ElFewja
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Brief Synopsis: The tickling in this is non-con, of a sort. It’s grey area stuff. The ‘lee of the first section is arrested and placed in a stockade, though she goes willingly with a chance to resist. The second bit is also grey area: she puts herself in a situation to get tickled, and is, but then is bound against her will, though she invites the tickler to tickle her. I would classify it as non-con, but its greyish. This piece is exclusively foot tickling, with some F/F and M/F in the first parts, and some M/F intermingled between the bits where the tree tickles her.
Queen of the Marketplace (brief F/F scene, tree/f later. All feet.)
The song of a hundred simultaneous conversations frothed like boiling water that beat at a well blackened and dented pot's lid. Running a hand through his hair, he looked about at the plethora of rickety stalls that lined the curving street of Ber'Nar. His shoulders sagged heavily and he sighed, dragging his feet as he lightly pushed his way into the tightly crowded street again, the gongs of pots and pans wailing at his re-entry.
With little effort, he weaved through the bristling field of people, displacing several chittering women that had stopped to chat in the middle of the cobbled road. An apple-faced lad in leather armor bounced into him and apologized profusely before merging back into the meandering mists, his face focused upon the ground as he dissipated. Throwing his head over his shoulder, he gazed at the wave like mass where the kid had disappeared to. Poor stripling, getting himself mixed up in this war business with the Azeruans.
Around him an onslaught of sound drenched him like a deluge, snuffing out awareness of himself as a hundred conversations peaked above then, growing board of their ascension towards the gods, crashed on him at once. The words railed at him into an incohesive mess, berating him as he tossed his head from one side to the other, squinting through the throngs of people that knocked one another aside, the thuds of their bodies and footsteps resounding like a marching army.
A tingling blazed in his lungs as he gasped vacantly for air that the surrounding people greedily lapped up. Thrusting his arms forward, he began pushing towards a slightly crooked brick building devoid of others. As he broke the surface of the mob he desperately drew in the patches of disregarded, filthy air that lingered in the small alleyway to his left. Throwing his head up, he closed his eyes and rested his back against a small stall full of overly gleaming apples. The stall wavered, rebelling against his weight as a gruff yet squeaky voice called for his attention. Turning, he caught sight of a larger woman with short brown hair as she rose from her chair and crossed her arms, gazing down her nose at him despite standing a head and a half below his own. "Buying something this time?"
Groaning and pursing his lips, he dove back into the crowd, the woman behind him sneering, cowling some insult. Damnit, he thought, never imagined it would be so difficult to find one person out here. A second soldier burst through the crowd, knocking him aside as he shouted make way, though the crowd largely ignored him as he continued to push others aside. Three young blonde women adorned in long, woolen and baggy brown dresses with breathy, rose petal cheeks followed closely behind, each one biting her lower lip, her eyes darting back and forth as though an attack was imminent. As he watched he noticed that the three women each carried a small bustling bag about three times the size of their fists. The second woman, an inch taller than the rest, lowered her head and smiled coyly upon making eye contact with him; the women shuffled away, their dainty, begemmed and miss-sized silken slippers twisting and twirling around like a vagrant artist’s brush as the trio slid into the thicket of people and onto a small road that only led towards the castle. As he looked up the hill at those gleaming marble walls he could feel a growl roll about restlessly within his throat. The whole kingdom was better before that insatiable knight-captain claimed the throne. Shaking his head, he pressed onward, his eyes full of smiling and laughing individuals as they readily exchanged coin. At least his ascension was good for business.
Swimming through the sea of people, he brushed them aside one by one, clearing his way towards the village center. As he neared he stopped several times, treading water as he looked past the crowd in an attempt to discern shop keeps from shoppers. A piercing screech from behind caused him to snap his neck around. Grunting, he covered his face from the ragged sun that had begun drifting towards the mountains, inadvertently slashing at his face. As his vision cleared he heard a woman shriek "Absolutely outrageous!" Between a blur, he caught sight of a woman taller than himself flailing her arms in the air. Shrugging, he moved towards the commotion, the vision of the aggressive woman's antagonist appearing and disappearing as the waves of people continued unobstructed. As he bobbed and weaved, glimpses dashed in and out of a woman nearly half his height that managed to hold herself in such a way that she seemed somehow taller than her shrieking contender.
"I'll have none of your nonsense!" The taller woman yelled, her salty voice bouncing the words like the waves of an ocean during a storm. She turned around, moving behind a nearby stall; unlike the others, the base of her stand curved in and out with pointed tips at either end of its darkened wood. Shoving a bulky man out of his way, he neared, catching good sight of the blazing fire that was the taller woman's hair. It cascaded and curled down her bare, sun-dyed shoulders and around the small bit of torn yet wildly blue and pink cloth that covered nothing more than the centers of her copper breasts. One of the sea-faring women come north to pawn their prizes, no doubt.
With a smile that dripped a venomous honey, the shorter woman smoothed her billowy dress that hovered just above her exposed ankles; she looked away from the crowd, her cheeks blossoming into thick, bright peaches as her lips moved though she spoke quietly enough that he couldn't hear her. Curly black hair spilled over her ears and onto her shoulders, fitting the description Sara had given him.
"I'll have none of it!" The foreigner bucked back like a ship crashing through the air; folding her arms and turning towards a potential customer, the bronzed woman thrust her arm down several times towards a curved blade. The twenty or so thin bracelets of various thickness and curved design that adorned her arm jangling violently as she waved at the differing metal trinkets that littered her stall, her long lips parting widely as she spoke to him. With each flick of her wrist the golden bracelet shimmered such that it looked like the sun had entwined her arm with sparkling vines. As he neared, a third woman came and began examining the wares at the stall operated by the boisterous shop-keep. The two began smiling and chatting as he approached.
Leaning forward slightly, the shorter woman stalked towards the red-haired vixen like prey, whipping behind the stall like a cat while placing her hand on her apparent enemy's shoulder. The little lady's voice rang out like a church bell and the taller woman bit her lip as the words harmonized into being, "It's only a small tax,” he overheard her say just as she stood upon her toes, her tongue slithering out a wisp like “Darling." The black-hair of the smaller woman bobbled as her arm drifted away from the copper woman’s quivering shoulder. The ardent hand spun about, flitting down the tall woman’s spine as she shivered and stood straight. With a smile that only belonged on a lover’s face, the small woman’s hand briefly brushed by the pocket of the bit of cloth that just barely covered the tall woman’s hips. The cloth sagged slightly.
Crossing the street, he rounded a tall, thick circle of stone that housed a well so deep that it devoured the light that entered it. Nearing the adjacent, yellowed, and weatherworn stall, he lifted a small, worn pot as he listened intently to the words that wavered behind him. The tall woman's leathery voice hissed like a sea breeze, "I'm not working for you." His eyes fell upon several charcoal daggers with thick, single edges and curved tips that sat amongst fruit, ragged clothing and simple bands of ashen metal. Setting the pot down and taking a blade into hand, he turned it about, spotting his own initials at the base of the hilt. Without a doubt these were the tools that Sara claimed went missing after she had been locked into the stocks.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught the tiny woman smile pleasantly and nod. After a quick spin upon the raised heels of her ankle high boots, she regally glided across the uneven cobblestones, moving behind the stall he occupied. "Wonderful blades, are they not?" He looked down into her face, her mouse-like nose wrinkling slightly. A thick smile creased her velveteen skin. "You won't find better in any other town.” Tilting her head, she threw one final word as her smile became softened into that of an overly breathy admirer’s. "Prom~ise," she trilled out, a devilishly curved smile betraying her otherwise gentle, bright-jade eyes.
Setting down the stolen blade, he smiled and spoke softly, "Thanks, but I'm just looking." As he pulled away he felt warmth tug at his wrist. Looking down, he saw that she had grasped his arm and pulled it towards herself. Like a horse breeder, she looked his arm up and down, feeling at his muscles. Tugging lightly at his arm, then harder, he watched as her own arms barely flinched. Without batting an eye, she turned his arm over again while trailing her fingertips across his wrist.
Her fingers melted on top of his skin as she ran them across his palm. "Your hands are so smooth for a blacksmith’s," she said sweetly, freeing him from her steel grip. Silently her arms disappeared underneath the stall, returning with a princely hammer of unmarred steel. She offered it to him with a smile and a nod. Stroking his beard, he waved it away and looked towards other stalls. Blast, he thought, I do need a new hammer though.
"Excuse me one moment," her voice bubbled into a peaceful song. As he turned around he nearly bumped a leather-clad guard with a crooked nose and flat jawline that had appeared behind the stall. The little lady nodded towards the taller woman and the guard ushered forward. Looking back at him she smiled widely again, splitting her peachy cheeks. "You'll have to excuse me for a moment. Business." Bowing, she skipped after the guard as she raised her hands above her shoulders, a look of blazing glee melted onto her glassy eyes.
Moving behind the stall, the guard grabbed the sea-woman as she screamed out lilting words. "What is the meaning of this?!" Though he stood more than a full head shorter than her he over took her, swinging her around and pushing her into the building behind her; his hand lunged into her pocket, almost immediately withdrawing a small glinting ring of white-silver. The little woman bowed and placed her cupped hands in front of her, receiving the boon as the sea-farer’s coal-like eyes grew wide. With shaking iris’ she took in a deep breath, exhaling it with a smile as she cast the guard aside. As the guard reached for a weapon, the tall woman laughed, waving at him with the back of her hand before putting her hands on her hips and standing straight. Cocking her head onto her shoulder, she gazed down at the little woman, the gentle mist of her words coolly whipping through the air. “Aye, I get it.” Raising her arm, she stabbed a pointed finger right in the middle of the little lady’s forehead. “Make no mistake, my people stand with pride for their crimes,” tilting her head slightly, she cast a glare towards the guard, “intentional or not.” Smiling sweetly, the little shop-keep tilted her head and closed her eyes while slipping her arms into a knot behind her back. Retracting her hand, she snapped a long strand of hair behind her left ear, crooking her head away from the foreigner as she did so. “You won’t break me,” the sea-faring woman said simply before nodding towards the guard. With long strides, she vanished into the crowd towards the village center, the guard swiftly pursuing.
Shifting to the other sea woman’s stall, she flurried and spun about quickly, like a squirrel hastily scavenging a meal for winter. As soon as she returned to the stall, the small woman dropped a few new objects in front of him: spiraling rings and bracelets that curved about like vines mostly, though a dagger and pair of shackles appeared as well. "Can't turn your back on these foreigners for a moment," she said through curved red lips, her words slipping through her teeth like a phantom. "So good of the guard to be as vigilant as they are. Ah, but yes, there's you, isn't there?" She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his ribs. Her lips parted like rose petals in the wind, the scent of mint wafting towards him as her eyelids fluttered. "I bet you're incredible at making the ladies scream, hm? A truly demonic tickler, yes?" He stepped back, blushing. That sickly lover's smile burned across her face this time as she reached beneath the table. "I've something for you, then."
Placing a small, thick black cloth in front of him, she daintily unfolded it, revealing several golden feathers. A brief image of Sara's golden soles from the other night flashed before him. Carefully taking one feather by the very end of its quill with just the tips of her fingers, she spun it about, "Interrogator's private stock from a few kingdoms over.” Leaning into him again, her eyes fluttered as she gazed upon the thing as her words turned dropped to a deviously naughty tone. “They're coated in pixie dust." Looking up, her lips curved wickedly. "Real nasty stuff. Takes a fortnight to remove and causes such an intense itching. Ever tickle a woman's itchy feet?" He shook his head in a no as his fingers fidgeted. The smile widened, "These'll make Her sing for you. They are.." she twirled the feather and moved it near her lips, her soft yet piercing eyes burrowing into him, "the purest form of agony."
Running a hand through his hair, he turned away. "Not sold? Come, I'll give you a sample." Her hand grabbed and melded into his wrist once again, pulling him away from the stall and in the direction the guard had gone. Quickly, he grabbed one of the feathers and thrust it behind the back of his belt before he was pulled too far away.
For a woman of such stature she very easily manipulated those around her to step aside, merely waving her hand to part the crowd. With one look, most backed away, creating a small hallway within the crowd for her to walk, her light steps blending with the cobblestone in such a way that it seemed even the ground knelt before her presence. Looking to his right he saw several men give him sly looks as he was whisked away. Finally breaching the crowd, they came to the mostly vacant center of the small plaza. Several benches were lined up, forming a ring in the small circle, facing inward towards the weathered and worn down sets of stockades, five in total. Straight before them the foreign woman sat stoically, her ankles already bound by those weathered boards; the guard flipped the small bit of leather that guarded her sole from her long, thin feet as the little shop-keep approached. Much like the deceptive crystal springs of a nearby cave that measured several men deep yet appeared as shallow as a puddle, the foreigner’s arch ached on forever though the implausibly smooth skin bound it to the rest of her foot in such a way that the drop flowed smoothly. Without a wrinkle to mar them he felt her sole beg, cry and plead for attention as she rubbed her naked arch against the top of her still leather clad foot. Her soles had a powdery and pale sheen that contrasted her tan like silver against gold; even from here he knew her soles were smoother than any he had seen. Truly the feet of the seafaring tribe were a treasure well-guarded despite their provocative and very full display under normal circumstances just as the rumors had claimed.
Around them the crowd’s noise largely ceased and a wall of flesh encircled them. A concoction of rage and fear rippled upon the sea trader's face as the snake like woman slithered towards her. Placing a hand upon the guard's shoulder, the little lady pressed her chin into the back of his shoulder and whispered something before shoeing the wickedly smiling man away. Circling around the bound woman, she closed her eyes and smiled, then gently laid a palm against the bottom of the remaining slab of languid leather, tapping a finger against it. With a smile and a flick the remaining strip of hide fell like a leaf, pattering against the pavilion. Although the woman's stony stare did not falter, the newly nude foot fled behind its partner. With breathy sincerity, the little lady spoke, her eyes fastened upon the wiggling toes of her prey. "Isn't it a wonderful thing, how helpless a laay~dee becomes merely by baring her feet?" Throwing an intently ravenous smile at the blacksmith, her too white teeth piercing her very red lips as though they were bloody fangs. Shaking her hips, she knelt forward, her words crackling with pleasure. "Just turns you into a little, helpless girl, right?" With a flick of her wrist, her hand entered and vacated a pocket swiftly, a small slice of string swinging between her twitching fingers. Tucking the feather between her fingers, she quickly grabbed the woman's long feet, tying her toes together. Stepping back to admire her handiwork, she then looked towards the woman and spoke quietly. "What, not going to beg for mercy?"
The foreigner raised her chin, a thin smile creasing across her angular cheeks, revealing the bones beneath them. Leaning onto the thick boards that held the other woman's feet, the short woman arched her back, speaking just above a whisper, "It's a shame I don't have time to break you in to my streets properly. I do, however, always get what I want." Light flickered at the bound feet as the feather twirled between their toes. The bound woman gasped, shutting her eyes and throwing her head to her shoulder. Stepping back, the woman turned to me with a devious smile while nodding towards the bound woman while she withdrew the feather and stood back.
For a moment, the sea-woman relaxed, her suddenly tense muscles releasing their iron grips, but then they tensed again and her face contorted. Her mouth formed a small hole and quickly began sucking in air as her shoulders hunched together. Flicking her toes, she split her lips wide open, fiercely barring her tightly gritted teeth as she threw her closed eyes at the sky. The short woman folded her arms and smiled, then turned to the blacksmith, "That, from just a little touch," she said, proffering the feather to him. He waved it away and her face pouted but quickly regained its pompous posture.
Moving in again, the short woman brushed the feather up and down the woman's bound arches, staining them a brilliant gold as the woman's face faded into a thick, giggling smile. Stepping back towards the crowd that was forming behind her, she watched as her prey's smile quickly collapsed, the woman's eyes bursting open. Biting her lip, she shuffled in her chair, her feet wiggling helplessly as her toes clenched tightly. Audible groans came from her as she tightly closed her eyes, struggling again.
Looking towards the blacksmith again, the tiny woman's mouth curled about. Reaching forward, she began to drag the flat of the feather down yet unmarred flesh at the center of the woman's left foot, the foreigner twisting in her seat slightly. The long nails of her free hand neared the sea farer’s now painted arch as the bronze woman contorted further, sucking her lips in as she withheld any further reactions. With a single nail the little lady delved into the now golden flesh; the sea trader’s toes immediately flew apart and her mouth exploded, squealing out an enchanting eep. Reaching behind him, he gripped the feather tightly, watching as the little woman bent over, prodding those defiant feet with slow, strategic expertise. Spinning back and forth in her stool, the fiery-haired woman fell backwards, laughing loudly until the regal little woman stood up, motioning towards the guard. He smiled and moved in, taking her place while sweat beaded at the bound woman’s bronze forehead, hair sticking to her cheeks as she gasped for breath.
As the guard swayed his fingers up and down the woman’s soles, she leapt in place, cawing a maelstrom of laughter that seemingly subdued her into a contorted mess of skin and submission. Rolling about in place, she twisted to her side, banging the bench that held her with her fist, her jaw dropping as her eyes flew wide open. Turning towards the crowd, the little shop keeper flicked her feather in the air while the woman behind her cackled at the guard's behest. With a voice of well-crafted metal, she bellowed out "I've only a few of these wondrous tools left," she spoke plainly as she stuffed it within her apron, "Straight from the neighboring kingdom's royal interrogator, they're guaranteed to make any woman squeal her heart’s true desires." The guard grasped the back of the foot more heavily painted by the glittering pixie dust, severely scratching at the arch that had been so carefully crafted into a work of art by the tiny shopkeeper. At once both of her hands fluttered to her scalp as she shrieked and shook about. Waving towards the crowded street of shops and stalls, the black-haired woman continued her speech, "You can find my stall out by the well, near the western gate." Several men began talking amongst themselves excitedly while one or two women near them shirked back, though a third woman had a thick, shameless grin plastered to her face.
Facing him once more, the little lady crossed her arms and looked back at the shrieking woman that fought against yet alongside her bondage, her legs lifting back as one with the stockade that happily wrapped around her ankles. Staring longingly at the rare sight locked only several feet in front of him, he distantly heard the words of the shop keeper flitter about like bubbles creeping towards the surface of a mid-spring’s rain puddle. "Have I sold you on this magnificent tool?" Removing his hand from the feather, he threw his arms behind his head and shook a no to her. "Pity," she said, her lips fading into a frown as her eyes sagged. Suddenly her demeanor reverted to the overly happy look she had maintained throughout; she spun about, her gaze catching a trembling maiden with a long, hooked nosed. Striding towards her, the maiden looked as though a rabid dog was galloping towards her. Stepping back slightly, she braced herself as she brought her thumb to her lips, nibbling on her nail.
"My dear, dear friend," the tiny woman said, throwing an arm around the shoulder of the slightly taller, shivering woman. As the little shop keep twirled her finger through the other woman’s shining, straight brown hair she pushed the woman into a haphazard walk with her the shop keep continuing with her sweet, swaying voice, "I've business to attend to elsewhere. You wouldn't mind watching over my stall momentarily, would you?" The trembling woman stuttered out several incoherent words as the short woman threw her apron over the trembling one's head. "Excellent! Thank you so much!" Smiling, the short woman vanished into the crowd while the woman marked with the apron leaned forward, sighing with relief. As though lightning struck her she shot up, her shoulders bent slightly as she hastened into the crowd towards the stall. Sighing, he darted into the small mob that followed the new shop keeper, barely keeping sight of the black-haired minx as she proceeded past potential patrons. Behind him he could hear the cackles grow in intensity; turning one last time, he leapt in place in an attempt to see her over the heads of the cascading swarm of people that separated them. An inexorably deep sigh wafted through his lips as his eyes sagged a bit. Suddenly a man burst forth, barging straight into him, yelling something loudly as he swept past, disappearing into the thicket of people. Scratching his cheek, the blacksmith turned and hastened through the crowd, knocking several people to the ground as he closed the gap the little woman quickly placed between them.
Before long the crowd thinned out, until only the woman skipped before him. Keeping his distance, he followed nonchalantly as she passed the last rickety building of their town, slipping a wink and a nod towards a gate guard slouched against the smooth stone wall separating the town from the wilderness; a devious light shone in the guard’s smile as the little lady passed. For several minutes, he followed her down the road as it turned from stones to uneven dirt paved by trader caravans. As he descended the small hill the barren fields soon spun into to towering walls of grain. Taking a sharp turn on the road he looked back, catching the city walls fizzle behind the forest of golden crops. As he walked he gazed into the fields that were so thick he could see no farther than a few inches into the fray. Scratching his nose, he stumbled over a root, forcing his gaze to rocket ahead just as his mark suddenly slipped off the dirt trail and into a short thicket of trees that formed a small yet dense segment of woods. Doubling his pace so as not to lose her, he pushed past the lone guardian trees that stood outside the woods, brushing past the branches that they brandished at him before he entered the darkened forest.
Slowing down and treading carefully so as not to step upon any leaves or twigs, he watched as she quickly vanished behind several of the thick trunks. Leaping and darting between empty patches of dirt, he sped onward towards the thick crunching that began to fade into nothingness until at last she was gone. Shrugging and scratching his head, he looked around before sighing and moving in the direction he faced, analyzing the ground for any sort of hint that a person had passed through. Continuing forward he came onto a thin stream that, if he recalled correctly, ran from the lake where that weird witch had taken residence. Walking along its edge, he watched several dozen light pink petals skate along top of the water as it burbled and churned, clawing at the edges of the indented ground that contained it as though the water was alive. Shaking his head, he looked up, catching sight of his prey at the base of a small hill that rested in a seemingly hallowed grove void of any trees save the single one that crooked over like an old man leaning on a cane. The thing seemed to cough and wheeze at the occasional gust of wind, its long, overloaded branches scrapping against the ground. Standing over the edge of a foot-high cliff, the roots of the tree jutted from the wall of dirt, those flaky life-veins of the tree pawing at the water that bent around the small hill.
Hiding behind a trunk with an odd, lopsided center, he watched as she shuffled back and forth in place, her legs moving up and down slightly in place. As he watched for several moments he saw that the heels of her short boots sank deeper into a small patch of mud that she had stopped upon. Soon the mud seeped nearly to the tops of her boots and her struggles became more animated. Leaning to her left and pulling hard, her paper white bare foot flew free of the boot with a swishing sound. Stepping past the unnaturally burbling mud onto a flat stone a second pop quickly resounded as more flesh revealed itself to the world.
As she stepped forward, her naked soles seeming to levitate above the grey slab, he heard her faintly utter "Oh dear." The mud seemed to ooze towards her as she stood, the viscous dirt lapping at the rock she stood upon. Moving closer to the tree, she dropped to her knees, then spun onto her belly, stretching her legs beneath one of the low branches towards the tree's trunk. Throwing her arms behind her back as though they were bound together, he heard her murmur "I hope nobody takes advantage of these bare feet of mine." Stroking his beard, he wondered at her words. Had she seen him? Was it an invitation? Tilting his head, he reconsidered avenging Sara in such a way.
A gust of wind blew, rustling the leaves above him as he noticed a small branch lower itself towards the woman's feet, its leaves gliding across her flawless flesh. With a gasp, she flinched lightly, her hands forming fists. Turning her head, he could see the agony of pleasure flog her face as she closed her eyes, batting out simple, breathy words with her lower lip. “No, please. I’m far too ticklish.” Her flesh shimmered in the dying sunlight like an intricately cut ruby that had been carved to perfection. Saliva seeped in his mouth as he gazed, envying the leaf that touched those soles, both absolutely smooth yet lined lightly with creases that formed wonderful wrinkles when she bent her lovely grape-like toes.
The tips of the leaves coaxed her soles, conjuring a smile sweet as sap upon her face. Her jaw tightened, her face collapsing into one of stifled, pent up laughter demanding release. She trembled, shimmying back and forth as the few leaves that could reach her strained themselves in an attempt to claim her arches. Unable to muster enough strength, the leaves lilted lines upon her defiantly wiggling toes, forcing those tightly spun onyx coils to cascade over her eyes. With a whip of her head she forced the rebelling hair into submission.
A single leaf struck further, landing just upon the very center of her foot. Kicking that foot straight into the air, she squealed and rolled onto her side as she slammed her feet against the ground, huffing lightly before returning to her previous position, though edging slightly further away from the tree. The branch responded despondently, nipping just at the tips of her quivering toes. Raising in unison, the leaves collapsed all at once, each claiming a toe. A blaze of white engulfed her lower lip as her eyes hid themselves, her body rocking back and forth without moving from where she rested.
Above her a vine that was tightly wrapped around a branch quivered, it's tip slowly pawing at the air above her. Looking up, he took notice of the tree as it seemingly swayed in her direction despite the absence of wind. Stroking his beard, he looked at the ground below him, treading carefully over the strangely wavering blades so as not to make a sound. Stumbling forward silently, he slid behind the tree that tried to torment the woman. An inferno formed in his stomach that could only be quenched by watching her suffer. Reaching up slowly, he tenderly pulled at a part of the vine until the entirety of it slid away from the branch. Gently lobbing the vine onto the grass near the maiden's feet, he slipped behind the tree, his eye piercing a small gap in the lower branches that blocked him from her sight.
Like a snake, the vine slithered towards the slightly writhing woman. Suddenly the thing jumped up, coiling itself around her ankles. Although she immediately turned to catch sight of her assailant, the vine was quicker, winding itself around her legs, then torso and arms, constricting her tightly. Struggling nonchalantly, the woman flailed back and forth, kicking up bits of dirt and grass as she rolled about. Uninhibited by her exertion the vine drug her towards the trunk, leaving a small streak of pressed grass as it reeled her in, lifting her legs up as she neared. A second vine appeared, tightly tying the fronts of her legs against the brittle bark that fell away as she rattled about in her bondage.
Her feet came to rest upon a thick branch, to which a third vine coiled itself around while it tethered her ankles there. The twin gems were tied mere inches from his face and as he caught sight of those two semi-hearts his jaw nearly dropped, his breath warmly wisping across her soles. From a distance, he had noticed it though thought it more attributed to his failing eyesight, but from here it was clear: her feet were perfectly, even cruelly smooth. They flexed, taunting and tempting him with their rich, velveteen sheen.
A small vine slithered below and grabbed her big toes, binding them together. Several branches descended upon her soles, rustling about as she screamed out her sacred laughter. Between the leaves, he could just see her feet as they twisted against the vine. They flexed to the right and the left, the skin around the outer sides of her feet shifting between wonderful wrinkles and exhaustibly smooth, delectable silk; her arches wavered as her toes flickered, the unmoving centers of her soles sustaining the full assault of the leaves as they attacked her in a flurry of movement. It seemed that a hundred or so leaves engaged in the battle, striking this way and that, slashing and stabbing all at once at the half hearts that splendidly squirmed back and forth. The muscles in her legs flexed like tiny boulders as her knees shuffled in place. As she lay there, her arms haphazardly flaying at her bounds, she sat chiterring a bubbly chehehe, a broad smile claiming her squirrely face.
The tree seemed more expert in its approach than any professional interrogator that had appeared at the carnivals. Within seconds, tears foamed at her eyes while she flopped about on the ground like a fish. Shoving her face into the dirt, she shook her shoulders as muffled laughter dug deeply into the grass. As though she had been submerged under water, her dirt covered face shot up with mouth wide open, screeching out a wonderful melody which scattered flocks of birds from some of the nearby trees.
Lumps of near pity bubbled in his gut, pushing his stomach into his chest. Scratching at his chin, he reached towards the vines, the feather's quill stabbing at him as he leaned forward. Images of Sara paraded before him and he stopped, his hand hovering over the chains that subjugated this woman. Shoving his thick hand behind him, he withdrew the feather while simultaneously grabbing at the branches that tormented the woman, pulling them away.
At once her neck turned, revealing a too deep smile near flooded by her overflowing eyes. The look quickly collapsed, her smile vanishing into a straight line as her eyes narrowed. Even though she sucked down air like a starved dog she still managed to mutter out an ah. Holding the feather as his side, he waited. Behind him the stream listlessly burbled out simple notes of satisfaction.
"My knight in shining armor," she said, her lips curving upwards into molasses, "How will I ever repay you?" Her toes flexed as she spoke and her mouth gained a more sinister sneer. "Or maybe, instead, I should ask how you intend to win payment from me?" This time her toes stretched outward, turning the small crevices that were her arches into deep craters littered by wrinkles that almost appeared from a void. With a kiss and a wink, she turned away again, shuffling about on the ground before exhaling. Hesitating for a moment, he twirled the feather then shrugged, striking at the feeble flesh before him.
Golden star-dust trailed from the feather as he leapt forward, carefully grazing the middle of her left foot. Her shoulders tightened and she giggled softly, turning her head onto her right ear, a pleasant, summertime smile plastered onto her face. Gusting back and forth, he painted her mellow arches a glittering gold. Her body began to twitch and her eyes popped open, looking back. Those brilliant jade gemstones flew wide open while a mischievous grin engulfed her. With each touch of the feather her foot trembled lightly, kicking up a tiny golden cloud of satisfaction.
Satisfied with her arch, he circled her heel several times, then lobbed the feather up and down the edge of her foot. Her toes wiggled and she began panting lightly as she closed her eyes and squirmed. Pulling back, he admired his work for a sliver of a second before pouncing upon her toes. As he twisted the feather around each one several times her legs tugged increasingly at the bindings. Satisfied, he delved between her toes, dipping the feather several times as she gasped and pulled at the vines, the bark of the tree creaking and crumbling away. Completing his rounds, he took the feather in hand, watching the woman as she groaned, writhing about on the ground, eyes closed and lips pinned shut between her teeth. The branch he held so tightly fought hard with him, shaking his entire arm a few inches in any given direction as soreness began to nip his muscles.
Staring at her untainted foot he felt his breathing become ragged as she flicked and wiggled her toes. His hand quivered, an ache gnawing at his chest as her toes stretched wide, bending down the branch that held them captive. Like a week-starved wolf his hand leapt at her sole, his palm engulfing the tiny thing just as he spun the feather around between his fingers. Tucking his chin into his right armpit, he tilted his head and groaned, her warm, softer than milk skin welcoming his touch. Pulling back, he grit his teeth, his hand lurching forward then back, as Sara’s caring smile carved into his mind. Again, his hand crested downward, then back upward as he stepped back and shook his head, his hot breath pouring out in fits. Quickly, an errant finger hurdled downward, waggling up and down the center of her foot, frisking it for laughter. Gasping and giggling lightly, the tiny woman shook her hips, a wicked little smile of pleasure forming.
Shaking his head, he withdrew his hand and spun the feather about, sweeping it over her right foot, moving left to right then right to left, laying down a thick covering of the pixie dust. As he worked her struggles and writhing became more animated, until at last, when her foot was completely cloaked, her squirms had evolved into full fledged resistance. Huffing and puffing for air, her pained eyes fell to him. Her mouth contorted into a miserable mix of fevered pleasure and blissful agony, occasionally peeling open to emit a hollow moan that ripped at him. Shifting her shoulders and hips, she whipped back and forth like a worm, convulsing and shaking. With a nod, he released the branches that had been struggling so hard to grasp her feet.
The sound she emitted tore at his ears. It spun around him, enveloping him and nearly bringing him to his knees. Her howl resounded like a dying wolf's, yet at the same time it carried the squeal of a delighted school girl and the agony of deprived desire. Without delay her eyes shut themselves away as she spun about on the ground, her legs balking at their captor once again, her feet doing little more than twitching at their tormentor’s touches. A thin stream of tears renewed themselves as her mouth winced with joy. For a while she hopped in place, shaking her shoulders and hips as her fingers flailed about.
Stepping back, he crossed his arms and watched for a moment, taking in his craftsmanship. With long strides, he circled the swaying tree trunk, stopping alongside the woman’s quivering body as the branches above spewed hundreds of spinning, feather like seeds that caught the breeze, scattering into the woods as an avalanche of them hitched a ride on the water, flowing downstream. Kneeling, he planted the feather in the dirt several feet from her head. In a quick motion, he rose, pivoting on his heel and moving across the overly excited, wavering grass. Amidst her scratchy laughter, she coughed, stifling the chaotic noise for but a moment. Her words rang with such clearness that he briefly forgot her situation. “Stay, my knight.” The laughter resumed once more, bubbling like joyful wine.
Without pause he continued to walk, shaking his head as he knotted his fingers together behind his head. She called to him again, this time her words doing little to hide her pained pleasure as she pleaded. “Please.” The heat in his chest shot through his legs, nailing them to the edge of the hill. Casting his head onto his shoulder, he looked back, her gem-like, wilting eyes staring intently into his. Dropping his arms, he turned and quickly strode back up the hill towards the woman, kneeling next to her. As she began to spill renewed laughter she nuzzled at his arm, pushing it up with her nose. Of its own accord, it wrapped around her shoulder as he laid down next to her. As she pressed his face into his chest he felt her quaking body vibrate with ticklishness.
With his thick hand, he swatted dark swathes of hair from her damp face before running his fingers through her course yet glimmering locks. Her breath spilled against him, a fierce warmness coiling down his abdomen as she giggled. “Tighter,” she heaved out, gasping, “protect me.” Adhering, he gripped her shoulder and drew her closer, her lips burrowing between his shirt as they began gently pecking his chest; her lips felt like flower petals that pollinated him with warm joy. A tightness drew to his eyes as he groaned. “It’s terrible, awful,” she moaned, writhing and giggling, the sound of leaves rustling forming a backdrop to her song of laughter.
The sun wept shadowy tears that grew, grasping at the land around them as the bustle the tree made slowed to a halt, the vines slithering back into the tree. Sighing pleasantly, the young woman dropped her legs to the ground, a thick smile reaching across her cheeks. Shaking her shoulders, she dropped her arms to the ground and began to push herself up, the blacksmith following suit. As he crossed his legs the woman flipped her own about, her ankles landing plainly in his lap. Smirking, he lit a fresh smile across her face by wiggling his fingertips across her soles. At once she fell against his side, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed her face into his back, kissing the nape of his neck in a passionate flurry.
As he snaked his fingers up and down her arches a golden cloud hovered to the ground, the dust settling onto the grass before being lit alive by the envious moon. Looking up, he watched as a veil wrapped itself about the silver half-orb, snuffing its light out. With a mere brush against her toes the woman squealed, calling his attention to her soles again just as her toes flexed apart, inviting his presence. Digging in to them, he watched as she threw her head back, howling and tugging the two of them to the ground. Laughing himself, he laid his hands on either side of her and began to push himself up. Grabbing his shoulders, she lunged upwards, her lips locking against his so strongly that she forced him back to the ground, the two locking arms around one another as their lips fluttered together several times.
A gentle smile warmed his face as he rolled over onto his back, kicking himself up as she mimicked his movements. Rising, he walked towards her boots, bending over, and grabbing at them, though they refused to budge with the first and then second tug. Bracing himself, he gripped one with both hands and threw his weight into it, freeing the thing from the mud as he rolled backwards, a streak of thick mud flying down the hill. Winking, she lifted a leg and pointed her golden toes at him, wiggling them once before he once again locked them away within their leather confines. Standing up, she unevenly hobbled to her remaining boot, dragging him along behind her until she plunged her foot into the little boot before falling into him, her arms encircling his torso as she nuzzled the space above his stomach. Looking up, her eyes drilled into his own, the silver reflection of the moon lining her glittering eyes with an insidious light as her quiet voice jingled out, “I always get what I want.”
Queen of the Marketplace (brief F/F scene, tree/f later. All feet.)
The song of a hundred simultaneous conversations frothed like boiling water that beat at a well blackened and dented pot's lid. Running a hand through his hair, he looked about at the plethora of rickety stalls that lined the curving street of Ber'Nar. His shoulders sagged heavily and he sighed, dragging his feet as he lightly pushed his way into the tightly crowded street again, the gongs of pots and pans wailing at his re-entry.
With little effort, he weaved through the bristling field of people, displacing several chittering women that had stopped to chat in the middle of the cobbled road. An apple-faced lad in leather armor bounced into him and apologized profusely before merging back into the meandering mists, his face focused upon the ground as he dissipated. Throwing his head over his shoulder, he gazed at the wave like mass where the kid had disappeared to. Poor stripling, getting himself mixed up in this war business with the Azeruans.
Around him an onslaught of sound drenched him like a deluge, snuffing out awareness of himself as a hundred conversations peaked above then, growing board of their ascension towards the gods, crashed on him at once. The words railed at him into an incohesive mess, berating him as he tossed his head from one side to the other, squinting through the throngs of people that knocked one another aside, the thuds of their bodies and footsteps resounding like a marching army.
A tingling blazed in his lungs as he gasped vacantly for air that the surrounding people greedily lapped up. Thrusting his arms forward, he began pushing towards a slightly crooked brick building devoid of others. As he broke the surface of the mob he desperately drew in the patches of disregarded, filthy air that lingered in the small alleyway to his left. Throwing his head up, he closed his eyes and rested his back against a small stall full of overly gleaming apples. The stall wavered, rebelling against his weight as a gruff yet squeaky voice called for his attention. Turning, he caught sight of a larger woman with short brown hair as she rose from her chair and crossed her arms, gazing down her nose at him despite standing a head and a half below his own. "Buying something this time?"
Groaning and pursing his lips, he dove back into the crowd, the woman behind him sneering, cowling some insult. Damnit, he thought, never imagined it would be so difficult to find one person out here. A second soldier burst through the crowd, knocking him aside as he shouted make way, though the crowd largely ignored him as he continued to push others aside. Three young blonde women adorned in long, woolen and baggy brown dresses with breathy, rose petal cheeks followed closely behind, each one biting her lower lip, her eyes darting back and forth as though an attack was imminent. As he watched he noticed that the three women each carried a small bustling bag about three times the size of their fists. The second woman, an inch taller than the rest, lowered her head and smiled coyly upon making eye contact with him; the women shuffled away, their dainty, begemmed and miss-sized silken slippers twisting and twirling around like a vagrant artist’s brush as the trio slid into the thicket of people and onto a small road that only led towards the castle. As he looked up the hill at those gleaming marble walls he could feel a growl roll about restlessly within his throat. The whole kingdom was better before that insatiable knight-captain claimed the throne. Shaking his head, he pressed onward, his eyes full of smiling and laughing individuals as they readily exchanged coin. At least his ascension was good for business.
Swimming through the sea of people, he brushed them aside one by one, clearing his way towards the village center. As he neared he stopped several times, treading water as he looked past the crowd in an attempt to discern shop keeps from shoppers. A piercing screech from behind caused him to snap his neck around. Grunting, he covered his face from the ragged sun that had begun drifting towards the mountains, inadvertently slashing at his face. As his vision cleared he heard a woman shriek "Absolutely outrageous!" Between a blur, he caught sight of a woman taller than himself flailing her arms in the air. Shrugging, he moved towards the commotion, the vision of the aggressive woman's antagonist appearing and disappearing as the waves of people continued unobstructed. As he bobbed and weaved, glimpses dashed in and out of a woman nearly half his height that managed to hold herself in such a way that she seemed somehow taller than her shrieking contender.
"I'll have none of your nonsense!" The taller woman yelled, her salty voice bouncing the words like the waves of an ocean during a storm. She turned around, moving behind a nearby stall; unlike the others, the base of her stand curved in and out with pointed tips at either end of its darkened wood. Shoving a bulky man out of his way, he neared, catching good sight of the blazing fire that was the taller woman's hair. It cascaded and curled down her bare, sun-dyed shoulders and around the small bit of torn yet wildly blue and pink cloth that covered nothing more than the centers of her copper breasts. One of the sea-faring women come north to pawn their prizes, no doubt.
With a smile that dripped a venomous honey, the shorter woman smoothed her billowy dress that hovered just above her exposed ankles; she looked away from the crowd, her cheeks blossoming into thick, bright peaches as her lips moved though she spoke quietly enough that he couldn't hear her. Curly black hair spilled over her ears and onto her shoulders, fitting the description Sara had given him.
"I'll have none of it!" The foreigner bucked back like a ship crashing through the air; folding her arms and turning towards a potential customer, the bronzed woman thrust her arm down several times towards a curved blade. The twenty or so thin bracelets of various thickness and curved design that adorned her arm jangling violently as she waved at the differing metal trinkets that littered her stall, her long lips parting widely as she spoke to him. With each flick of her wrist the golden bracelet shimmered such that it looked like the sun had entwined her arm with sparkling vines. As he neared, a third woman came and began examining the wares at the stall operated by the boisterous shop-keep. The two began smiling and chatting as he approached.
Leaning forward slightly, the shorter woman stalked towards the red-haired vixen like prey, whipping behind the stall like a cat while placing her hand on her apparent enemy's shoulder. The little lady's voice rang out like a church bell and the taller woman bit her lip as the words harmonized into being, "It's only a small tax,” he overheard her say just as she stood upon her toes, her tongue slithering out a wisp like “Darling." The black-hair of the smaller woman bobbled as her arm drifted away from the copper woman’s quivering shoulder. The ardent hand spun about, flitting down the tall woman’s spine as she shivered and stood straight. With a smile that only belonged on a lover’s face, the small woman’s hand briefly brushed by the pocket of the bit of cloth that just barely covered the tall woman’s hips. The cloth sagged slightly.
Crossing the street, he rounded a tall, thick circle of stone that housed a well so deep that it devoured the light that entered it. Nearing the adjacent, yellowed, and weatherworn stall, he lifted a small, worn pot as he listened intently to the words that wavered behind him. The tall woman's leathery voice hissed like a sea breeze, "I'm not working for you." His eyes fell upon several charcoal daggers with thick, single edges and curved tips that sat amongst fruit, ragged clothing and simple bands of ashen metal. Setting the pot down and taking a blade into hand, he turned it about, spotting his own initials at the base of the hilt. Without a doubt these were the tools that Sara claimed went missing after she had been locked into the stocks.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught the tiny woman smile pleasantly and nod. After a quick spin upon the raised heels of her ankle high boots, she regally glided across the uneven cobblestones, moving behind the stall he occupied. "Wonderful blades, are they not?" He looked down into her face, her mouse-like nose wrinkling slightly. A thick smile creased her velveteen skin. "You won't find better in any other town.” Tilting her head, she threw one final word as her smile became softened into that of an overly breathy admirer’s. "Prom~ise," she trilled out, a devilishly curved smile betraying her otherwise gentle, bright-jade eyes.
Setting down the stolen blade, he smiled and spoke softly, "Thanks, but I'm just looking." As he pulled away he felt warmth tug at his wrist. Looking down, he saw that she had grasped his arm and pulled it towards herself. Like a horse breeder, she looked his arm up and down, feeling at his muscles. Tugging lightly at his arm, then harder, he watched as her own arms barely flinched. Without batting an eye, she turned his arm over again while trailing her fingertips across his wrist.
Her fingers melted on top of his skin as she ran them across his palm. "Your hands are so smooth for a blacksmith’s," she said sweetly, freeing him from her steel grip. Silently her arms disappeared underneath the stall, returning with a princely hammer of unmarred steel. She offered it to him with a smile and a nod. Stroking his beard, he waved it away and looked towards other stalls. Blast, he thought, I do need a new hammer though.
"Excuse me one moment," her voice bubbled into a peaceful song. As he turned around he nearly bumped a leather-clad guard with a crooked nose and flat jawline that had appeared behind the stall. The little lady nodded towards the taller woman and the guard ushered forward. Looking back at him she smiled widely again, splitting her peachy cheeks. "You'll have to excuse me for a moment. Business." Bowing, she skipped after the guard as she raised her hands above her shoulders, a look of blazing glee melted onto her glassy eyes.
Moving behind the stall, the guard grabbed the sea-woman as she screamed out lilting words. "What is the meaning of this?!" Though he stood more than a full head shorter than her he over took her, swinging her around and pushing her into the building behind her; his hand lunged into her pocket, almost immediately withdrawing a small glinting ring of white-silver. The little woman bowed and placed her cupped hands in front of her, receiving the boon as the sea-farer’s coal-like eyes grew wide. With shaking iris’ she took in a deep breath, exhaling it with a smile as she cast the guard aside. As the guard reached for a weapon, the tall woman laughed, waving at him with the back of her hand before putting her hands on her hips and standing straight. Cocking her head onto her shoulder, she gazed down at the little woman, the gentle mist of her words coolly whipping through the air. “Aye, I get it.” Raising her arm, she stabbed a pointed finger right in the middle of the little lady’s forehead. “Make no mistake, my people stand with pride for their crimes,” tilting her head slightly, she cast a glare towards the guard, “intentional or not.” Smiling sweetly, the little shop-keep tilted her head and closed her eyes while slipping her arms into a knot behind her back. Retracting her hand, she snapped a long strand of hair behind her left ear, crooking her head away from the foreigner as she did so. “You won’t break me,” the sea-faring woman said simply before nodding towards the guard. With long strides, she vanished into the crowd towards the village center, the guard swiftly pursuing.
Shifting to the other sea woman’s stall, she flurried and spun about quickly, like a squirrel hastily scavenging a meal for winter. As soon as she returned to the stall, the small woman dropped a few new objects in front of him: spiraling rings and bracelets that curved about like vines mostly, though a dagger and pair of shackles appeared as well. "Can't turn your back on these foreigners for a moment," she said through curved red lips, her words slipping through her teeth like a phantom. "So good of the guard to be as vigilant as they are. Ah, but yes, there's you, isn't there?" She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his ribs. Her lips parted like rose petals in the wind, the scent of mint wafting towards him as her eyelids fluttered. "I bet you're incredible at making the ladies scream, hm? A truly demonic tickler, yes?" He stepped back, blushing. That sickly lover's smile burned across her face this time as she reached beneath the table. "I've something for you, then."
Placing a small, thick black cloth in front of him, she daintily unfolded it, revealing several golden feathers. A brief image of Sara's golden soles from the other night flashed before him. Carefully taking one feather by the very end of its quill with just the tips of her fingers, she spun it about, "Interrogator's private stock from a few kingdoms over.” Leaning into him again, her eyes fluttered as she gazed upon the thing as her words turned dropped to a deviously naughty tone. “They're coated in pixie dust." Looking up, her lips curved wickedly. "Real nasty stuff. Takes a fortnight to remove and causes such an intense itching. Ever tickle a woman's itchy feet?" He shook his head in a no as his fingers fidgeted. The smile widened, "These'll make Her sing for you. They are.." she twirled the feather and moved it near her lips, her soft yet piercing eyes burrowing into him, "the purest form of agony."
Running a hand through his hair, he turned away. "Not sold? Come, I'll give you a sample." Her hand grabbed and melded into his wrist once again, pulling him away from the stall and in the direction the guard had gone. Quickly, he grabbed one of the feathers and thrust it behind the back of his belt before he was pulled too far away.
For a woman of such stature she very easily manipulated those around her to step aside, merely waving her hand to part the crowd. With one look, most backed away, creating a small hallway within the crowd for her to walk, her light steps blending with the cobblestone in such a way that it seemed even the ground knelt before her presence. Looking to his right he saw several men give him sly looks as he was whisked away. Finally breaching the crowd, they came to the mostly vacant center of the small plaza. Several benches were lined up, forming a ring in the small circle, facing inward towards the weathered and worn down sets of stockades, five in total. Straight before them the foreign woman sat stoically, her ankles already bound by those weathered boards; the guard flipped the small bit of leather that guarded her sole from her long, thin feet as the little shop-keep approached. Much like the deceptive crystal springs of a nearby cave that measured several men deep yet appeared as shallow as a puddle, the foreigner’s arch ached on forever though the implausibly smooth skin bound it to the rest of her foot in such a way that the drop flowed smoothly. Without a wrinkle to mar them he felt her sole beg, cry and plead for attention as she rubbed her naked arch against the top of her still leather clad foot. Her soles had a powdery and pale sheen that contrasted her tan like silver against gold; even from here he knew her soles were smoother than any he had seen. Truly the feet of the seafaring tribe were a treasure well-guarded despite their provocative and very full display under normal circumstances just as the rumors had claimed.
Around them the crowd’s noise largely ceased and a wall of flesh encircled them. A concoction of rage and fear rippled upon the sea trader's face as the snake like woman slithered towards her. Placing a hand upon the guard's shoulder, the little lady pressed her chin into the back of his shoulder and whispered something before shoeing the wickedly smiling man away. Circling around the bound woman, she closed her eyes and smiled, then gently laid a palm against the bottom of the remaining slab of languid leather, tapping a finger against it. With a smile and a flick the remaining strip of hide fell like a leaf, pattering against the pavilion. Although the woman's stony stare did not falter, the newly nude foot fled behind its partner. With breathy sincerity, the little lady spoke, her eyes fastened upon the wiggling toes of her prey. "Isn't it a wonderful thing, how helpless a laay~dee becomes merely by baring her feet?" Throwing an intently ravenous smile at the blacksmith, her too white teeth piercing her very red lips as though they were bloody fangs. Shaking her hips, she knelt forward, her words crackling with pleasure. "Just turns you into a little, helpless girl, right?" With a flick of her wrist, her hand entered and vacated a pocket swiftly, a small slice of string swinging between her twitching fingers. Tucking the feather between her fingers, she quickly grabbed the woman's long feet, tying her toes together. Stepping back to admire her handiwork, she then looked towards the woman and spoke quietly. "What, not going to beg for mercy?"
The foreigner raised her chin, a thin smile creasing across her angular cheeks, revealing the bones beneath them. Leaning onto the thick boards that held the other woman's feet, the short woman arched her back, speaking just above a whisper, "It's a shame I don't have time to break you in to my streets properly. I do, however, always get what I want." Light flickered at the bound feet as the feather twirled between their toes. The bound woman gasped, shutting her eyes and throwing her head to her shoulder. Stepping back, the woman turned to me with a devious smile while nodding towards the bound woman while she withdrew the feather and stood back.
For a moment, the sea-woman relaxed, her suddenly tense muscles releasing their iron grips, but then they tensed again and her face contorted. Her mouth formed a small hole and quickly began sucking in air as her shoulders hunched together. Flicking her toes, she split her lips wide open, fiercely barring her tightly gritted teeth as she threw her closed eyes at the sky. The short woman folded her arms and smiled, then turned to the blacksmith, "That, from just a little touch," she said, proffering the feather to him. He waved it away and her face pouted but quickly regained its pompous posture.
Moving in again, the short woman brushed the feather up and down the woman's bound arches, staining them a brilliant gold as the woman's face faded into a thick, giggling smile. Stepping back towards the crowd that was forming behind her, she watched as her prey's smile quickly collapsed, the woman's eyes bursting open. Biting her lip, she shuffled in her chair, her feet wiggling helplessly as her toes clenched tightly. Audible groans came from her as she tightly closed her eyes, struggling again.
Looking towards the blacksmith again, the tiny woman's mouth curled about. Reaching forward, she began to drag the flat of the feather down yet unmarred flesh at the center of the woman's left foot, the foreigner twisting in her seat slightly. The long nails of her free hand neared the sea farer’s now painted arch as the bronze woman contorted further, sucking her lips in as she withheld any further reactions. With a single nail the little lady delved into the now golden flesh; the sea trader’s toes immediately flew apart and her mouth exploded, squealing out an enchanting eep. Reaching behind him, he gripped the feather tightly, watching as the little woman bent over, prodding those defiant feet with slow, strategic expertise. Spinning back and forth in her stool, the fiery-haired woman fell backwards, laughing loudly until the regal little woman stood up, motioning towards the guard. He smiled and moved in, taking her place while sweat beaded at the bound woman’s bronze forehead, hair sticking to her cheeks as she gasped for breath.
As the guard swayed his fingers up and down the woman’s soles, she leapt in place, cawing a maelstrom of laughter that seemingly subdued her into a contorted mess of skin and submission. Rolling about in place, she twisted to her side, banging the bench that held her with her fist, her jaw dropping as her eyes flew wide open. Turning towards the crowd, the little shop keeper flicked her feather in the air while the woman behind her cackled at the guard's behest. With a voice of well-crafted metal, she bellowed out "I've only a few of these wondrous tools left," she spoke plainly as she stuffed it within her apron, "Straight from the neighboring kingdom's royal interrogator, they're guaranteed to make any woman squeal her heart’s true desires." The guard grasped the back of the foot more heavily painted by the glittering pixie dust, severely scratching at the arch that had been so carefully crafted into a work of art by the tiny shopkeeper. At once both of her hands fluttered to her scalp as she shrieked and shook about. Waving towards the crowded street of shops and stalls, the black-haired woman continued her speech, "You can find my stall out by the well, near the western gate." Several men began talking amongst themselves excitedly while one or two women near them shirked back, though a third woman had a thick, shameless grin plastered to her face.
Facing him once more, the little lady crossed her arms and looked back at the shrieking woman that fought against yet alongside her bondage, her legs lifting back as one with the stockade that happily wrapped around her ankles. Staring longingly at the rare sight locked only several feet in front of him, he distantly heard the words of the shop keeper flitter about like bubbles creeping towards the surface of a mid-spring’s rain puddle. "Have I sold you on this magnificent tool?" Removing his hand from the feather, he threw his arms behind his head and shook a no to her. "Pity," she said, her lips fading into a frown as her eyes sagged. Suddenly her demeanor reverted to the overly happy look she had maintained throughout; she spun about, her gaze catching a trembling maiden with a long, hooked nosed. Striding towards her, the maiden looked as though a rabid dog was galloping towards her. Stepping back slightly, she braced herself as she brought her thumb to her lips, nibbling on her nail.
"My dear, dear friend," the tiny woman said, throwing an arm around the shoulder of the slightly taller, shivering woman. As the little shop keep twirled her finger through the other woman’s shining, straight brown hair she pushed the woman into a haphazard walk with her the shop keep continuing with her sweet, swaying voice, "I've business to attend to elsewhere. You wouldn't mind watching over my stall momentarily, would you?" The trembling woman stuttered out several incoherent words as the short woman threw her apron over the trembling one's head. "Excellent! Thank you so much!" Smiling, the short woman vanished into the crowd while the woman marked with the apron leaned forward, sighing with relief. As though lightning struck her she shot up, her shoulders bent slightly as she hastened into the crowd towards the stall. Sighing, he darted into the small mob that followed the new shop keeper, barely keeping sight of the black-haired minx as she proceeded past potential patrons. Behind him he could hear the cackles grow in intensity; turning one last time, he leapt in place in an attempt to see her over the heads of the cascading swarm of people that separated them. An inexorably deep sigh wafted through his lips as his eyes sagged a bit. Suddenly a man burst forth, barging straight into him, yelling something loudly as he swept past, disappearing into the thicket of people. Scratching his cheek, the blacksmith turned and hastened through the crowd, knocking several people to the ground as he closed the gap the little woman quickly placed between them.
Before long the crowd thinned out, until only the woman skipped before him. Keeping his distance, he followed nonchalantly as she passed the last rickety building of their town, slipping a wink and a nod towards a gate guard slouched against the smooth stone wall separating the town from the wilderness; a devious light shone in the guard’s smile as the little lady passed. For several minutes, he followed her down the road as it turned from stones to uneven dirt paved by trader caravans. As he descended the small hill the barren fields soon spun into to towering walls of grain. Taking a sharp turn on the road he looked back, catching the city walls fizzle behind the forest of golden crops. As he walked he gazed into the fields that were so thick he could see no farther than a few inches into the fray. Scratching his nose, he stumbled over a root, forcing his gaze to rocket ahead just as his mark suddenly slipped off the dirt trail and into a short thicket of trees that formed a small yet dense segment of woods. Doubling his pace so as not to lose her, he pushed past the lone guardian trees that stood outside the woods, brushing past the branches that they brandished at him before he entered the darkened forest.
Slowing down and treading carefully so as not to step upon any leaves or twigs, he watched as she quickly vanished behind several of the thick trunks. Leaping and darting between empty patches of dirt, he sped onward towards the thick crunching that began to fade into nothingness until at last she was gone. Shrugging and scratching his head, he looked around before sighing and moving in the direction he faced, analyzing the ground for any sort of hint that a person had passed through. Continuing forward he came onto a thin stream that, if he recalled correctly, ran from the lake where that weird witch had taken residence. Walking along its edge, he watched several dozen light pink petals skate along top of the water as it burbled and churned, clawing at the edges of the indented ground that contained it as though the water was alive. Shaking his head, he looked up, catching sight of his prey at the base of a small hill that rested in a seemingly hallowed grove void of any trees save the single one that crooked over like an old man leaning on a cane. The thing seemed to cough and wheeze at the occasional gust of wind, its long, overloaded branches scrapping against the ground. Standing over the edge of a foot-high cliff, the roots of the tree jutted from the wall of dirt, those flaky life-veins of the tree pawing at the water that bent around the small hill.
Hiding behind a trunk with an odd, lopsided center, he watched as she shuffled back and forth in place, her legs moving up and down slightly in place. As he watched for several moments he saw that the heels of her short boots sank deeper into a small patch of mud that she had stopped upon. Soon the mud seeped nearly to the tops of her boots and her struggles became more animated. Leaning to her left and pulling hard, her paper white bare foot flew free of the boot with a swishing sound. Stepping past the unnaturally burbling mud onto a flat stone a second pop quickly resounded as more flesh revealed itself to the world.
As she stepped forward, her naked soles seeming to levitate above the grey slab, he heard her faintly utter "Oh dear." The mud seemed to ooze towards her as she stood, the viscous dirt lapping at the rock she stood upon. Moving closer to the tree, she dropped to her knees, then spun onto her belly, stretching her legs beneath one of the low branches towards the tree's trunk. Throwing her arms behind her back as though they were bound together, he heard her murmur "I hope nobody takes advantage of these bare feet of mine." Stroking his beard, he wondered at her words. Had she seen him? Was it an invitation? Tilting his head, he reconsidered avenging Sara in such a way.
A gust of wind blew, rustling the leaves above him as he noticed a small branch lower itself towards the woman's feet, its leaves gliding across her flawless flesh. With a gasp, she flinched lightly, her hands forming fists. Turning her head, he could see the agony of pleasure flog her face as she closed her eyes, batting out simple, breathy words with her lower lip. “No, please. I’m far too ticklish.” Her flesh shimmered in the dying sunlight like an intricately cut ruby that had been carved to perfection. Saliva seeped in his mouth as he gazed, envying the leaf that touched those soles, both absolutely smooth yet lined lightly with creases that formed wonderful wrinkles when she bent her lovely grape-like toes.
The tips of the leaves coaxed her soles, conjuring a smile sweet as sap upon her face. Her jaw tightened, her face collapsing into one of stifled, pent up laughter demanding release. She trembled, shimmying back and forth as the few leaves that could reach her strained themselves in an attempt to claim her arches. Unable to muster enough strength, the leaves lilted lines upon her defiantly wiggling toes, forcing those tightly spun onyx coils to cascade over her eyes. With a whip of her head she forced the rebelling hair into submission.
A single leaf struck further, landing just upon the very center of her foot. Kicking that foot straight into the air, she squealed and rolled onto her side as she slammed her feet against the ground, huffing lightly before returning to her previous position, though edging slightly further away from the tree. The branch responded despondently, nipping just at the tips of her quivering toes. Raising in unison, the leaves collapsed all at once, each claiming a toe. A blaze of white engulfed her lower lip as her eyes hid themselves, her body rocking back and forth without moving from where she rested.
Above her a vine that was tightly wrapped around a branch quivered, it's tip slowly pawing at the air above her. Looking up, he took notice of the tree as it seemingly swayed in her direction despite the absence of wind. Stroking his beard, he looked at the ground below him, treading carefully over the strangely wavering blades so as not to make a sound. Stumbling forward silently, he slid behind the tree that tried to torment the woman. An inferno formed in his stomach that could only be quenched by watching her suffer. Reaching up slowly, he tenderly pulled at a part of the vine until the entirety of it slid away from the branch. Gently lobbing the vine onto the grass near the maiden's feet, he slipped behind the tree, his eye piercing a small gap in the lower branches that blocked him from her sight.
Like a snake, the vine slithered towards the slightly writhing woman. Suddenly the thing jumped up, coiling itself around her ankles. Although she immediately turned to catch sight of her assailant, the vine was quicker, winding itself around her legs, then torso and arms, constricting her tightly. Struggling nonchalantly, the woman flailed back and forth, kicking up bits of dirt and grass as she rolled about. Uninhibited by her exertion the vine drug her towards the trunk, leaving a small streak of pressed grass as it reeled her in, lifting her legs up as she neared. A second vine appeared, tightly tying the fronts of her legs against the brittle bark that fell away as she rattled about in her bondage.
Her feet came to rest upon a thick branch, to which a third vine coiled itself around while it tethered her ankles there. The twin gems were tied mere inches from his face and as he caught sight of those two semi-hearts his jaw nearly dropped, his breath warmly wisping across her soles. From a distance, he had noticed it though thought it more attributed to his failing eyesight, but from here it was clear: her feet were perfectly, even cruelly smooth. They flexed, taunting and tempting him with their rich, velveteen sheen.
A small vine slithered below and grabbed her big toes, binding them together. Several branches descended upon her soles, rustling about as she screamed out her sacred laughter. Between the leaves, he could just see her feet as they twisted against the vine. They flexed to the right and the left, the skin around the outer sides of her feet shifting between wonderful wrinkles and exhaustibly smooth, delectable silk; her arches wavered as her toes flickered, the unmoving centers of her soles sustaining the full assault of the leaves as they attacked her in a flurry of movement. It seemed that a hundred or so leaves engaged in the battle, striking this way and that, slashing and stabbing all at once at the half hearts that splendidly squirmed back and forth. The muscles in her legs flexed like tiny boulders as her knees shuffled in place. As she lay there, her arms haphazardly flaying at her bounds, she sat chiterring a bubbly chehehe, a broad smile claiming her squirrely face.
The tree seemed more expert in its approach than any professional interrogator that had appeared at the carnivals. Within seconds, tears foamed at her eyes while she flopped about on the ground like a fish. Shoving her face into the dirt, she shook her shoulders as muffled laughter dug deeply into the grass. As though she had been submerged under water, her dirt covered face shot up with mouth wide open, screeching out a wonderful melody which scattered flocks of birds from some of the nearby trees.
Lumps of near pity bubbled in his gut, pushing his stomach into his chest. Scratching at his chin, he reached towards the vines, the feather's quill stabbing at him as he leaned forward. Images of Sara paraded before him and he stopped, his hand hovering over the chains that subjugated this woman. Shoving his thick hand behind him, he withdrew the feather while simultaneously grabbing at the branches that tormented the woman, pulling them away.
At once her neck turned, revealing a too deep smile near flooded by her overflowing eyes. The look quickly collapsed, her smile vanishing into a straight line as her eyes narrowed. Even though she sucked down air like a starved dog she still managed to mutter out an ah. Holding the feather as his side, he waited. Behind him the stream listlessly burbled out simple notes of satisfaction.
"My knight in shining armor," she said, her lips curving upwards into molasses, "How will I ever repay you?" Her toes flexed as she spoke and her mouth gained a more sinister sneer. "Or maybe, instead, I should ask how you intend to win payment from me?" This time her toes stretched outward, turning the small crevices that were her arches into deep craters littered by wrinkles that almost appeared from a void. With a kiss and a wink, she turned away again, shuffling about on the ground before exhaling. Hesitating for a moment, he twirled the feather then shrugged, striking at the feeble flesh before him.
Golden star-dust trailed from the feather as he leapt forward, carefully grazing the middle of her left foot. Her shoulders tightened and she giggled softly, turning her head onto her right ear, a pleasant, summertime smile plastered onto her face. Gusting back and forth, he painted her mellow arches a glittering gold. Her body began to twitch and her eyes popped open, looking back. Those brilliant jade gemstones flew wide open while a mischievous grin engulfed her. With each touch of the feather her foot trembled lightly, kicking up a tiny golden cloud of satisfaction.
Satisfied with her arch, he circled her heel several times, then lobbed the feather up and down the edge of her foot. Her toes wiggled and she began panting lightly as she closed her eyes and squirmed. Pulling back, he admired his work for a sliver of a second before pouncing upon her toes. As he twisted the feather around each one several times her legs tugged increasingly at the bindings. Satisfied, he delved between her toes, dipping the feather several times as she gasped and pulled at the vines, the bark of the tree creaking and crumbling away. Completing his rounds, he took the feather in hand, watching the woman as she groaned, writhing about on the ground, eyes closed and lips pinned shut between her teeth. The branch he held so tightly fought hard with him, shaking his entire arm a few inches in any given direction as soreness began to nip his muscles.
Staring at her untainted foot he felt his breathing become ragged as she flicked and wiggled her toes. His hand quivered, an ache gnawing at his chest as her toes stretched wide, bending down the branch that held them captive. Like a week-starved wolf his hand leapt at her sole, his palm engulfing the tiny thing just as he spun the feather around between his fingers. Tucking his chin into his right armpit, he tilted his head and groaned, her warm, softer than milk skin welcoming his touch. Pulling back, he grit his teeth, his hand lurching forward then back, as Sara’s caring smile carved into his mind. Again, his hand crested downward, then back upward as he stepped back and shook his head, his hot breath pouring out in fits. Quickly, an errant finger hurdled downward, waggling up and down the center of her foot, frisking it for laughter. Gasping and giggling lightly, the tiny woman shook her hips, a wicked little smile of pleasure forming.
Shaking his head, he withdrew his hand and spun the feather about, sweeping it over her right foot, moving left to right then right to left, laying down a thick covering of the pixie dust. As he worked her struggles and writhing became more animated, until at last, when her foot was completely cloaked, her squirms had evolved into full fledged resistance. Huffing and puffing for air, her pained eyes fell to him. Her mouth contorted into a miserable mix of fevered pleasure and blissful agony, occasionally peeling open to emit a hollow moan that ripped at him. Shifting her shoulders and hips, she whipped back and forth like a worm, convulsing and shaking. With a nod, he released the branches that had been struggling so hard to grasp her feet.
The sound she emitted tore at his ears. It spun around him, enveloping him and nearly bringing him to his knees. Her howl resounded like a dying wolf's, yet at the same time it carried the squeal of a delighted school girl and the agony of deprived desire. Without delay her eyes shut themselves away as she spun about on the ground, her legs balking at their captor once again, her feet doing little more than twitching at their tormentor’s touches. A thin stream of tears renewed themselves as her mouth winced with joy. For a while she hopped in place, shaking her shoulders and hips as her fingers flailed about.
Stepping back, he crossed his arms and watched for a moment, taking in his craftsmanship. With long strides, he circled the swaying tree trunk, stopping alongside the woman’s quivering body as the branches above spewed hundreds of spinning, feather like seeds that caught the breeze, scattering into the woods as an avalanche of them hitched a ride on the water, flowing downstream. Kneeling, he planted the feather in the dirt several feet from her head. In a quick motion, he rose, pivoting on his heel and moving across the overly excited, wavering grass. Amidst her scratchy laughter, she coughed, stifling the chaotic noise for but a moment. Her words rang with such clearness that he briefly forgot her situation. “Stay, my knight.” The laughter resumed once more, bubbling like joyful wine.
Without pause he continued to walk, shaking his head as he knotted his fingers together behind his head. She called to him again, this time her words doing little to hide her pained pleasure as she pleaded. “Please.” The heat in his chest shot through his legs, nailing them to the edge of the hill. Casting his head onto his shoulder, he looked back, her gem-like, wilting eyes staring intently into his. Dropping his arms, he turned and quickly strode back up the hill towards the woman, kneeling next to her. As she began to spill renewed laughter she nuzzled at his arm, pushing it up with her nose. Of its own accord, it wrapped around her shoulder as he laid down next to her. As she pressed his face into his chest he felt her quaking body vibrate with ticklishness.
With his thick hand, he swatted dark swathes of hair from her damp face before running his fingers through her course yet glimmering locks. Her breath spilled against him, a fierce warmness coiling down his abdomen as she giggled. “Tighter,” she heaved out, gasping, “protect me.” Adhering, he gripped her shoulder and drew her closer, her lips burrowing between his shirt as they began gently pecking his chest; her lips felt like flower petals that pollinated him with warm joy. A tightness drew to his eyes as he groaned. “It’s terrible, awful,” she moaned, writhing and giggling, the sound of leaves rustling forming a backdrop to her song of laughter.
The sun wept shadowy tears that grew, grasping at the land around them as the bustle the tree made slowed to a halt, the vines slithering back into the tree. Sighing pleasantly, the young woman dropped her legs to the ground, a thick smile reaching across her cheeks. Shaking her shoulders, she dropped her arms to the ground and began to push herself up, the blacksmith following suit. As he crossed his legs the woman flipped her own about, her ankles landing plainly in his lap. Smirking, he lit a fresh smile across her face by wiggling his fingertips across her soles. At once she fell against his side, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed her face into his back, kissing the nape of his neck in a passionate flurry.
As he snaked his fingers up and down her arches a golden cloud hovered to the ground, the dust settling onto the grass before being lit alive by the envious moon. Looking up, he watched as a veil wrapped itself about the silver half-orb, snuffing its light out. With a mere brush against her toes the woman squealed, calling his attention to her soles again just as her toes flexed apart, inviting his presence. Digging in to them, he watched as she threw her head back, howling and tugging the two of them to the ground. Laughing himself, he laid his hands on either side of her and began to push himself up. Grabbing his shoulders, she lunged upwards, her lips locking against his so strongly that she forced him back to the ground, the two locking arms around one another as their lips fluttered together several times.
A gentle smile warmed his face as he rolled over onto his back, kicking himself up as she mimicked his movements. Rising, he walked towards her boots, bending over, and grabbing at them, though they refused to budge with the first and then second tug. Bracing himself, he gripped one with both hands and threw his weight into it, freeing the thing from the mud as he rolled backwards, a streak of thick mud flying down the hill. Winking, she lifted a leg and pointed her golden toes at him, wiggling them once before he once again locked them away within their leather confines. Standing up, she unevenly hobbled to her remaining boot, dragging him along behind her until she plunged her foot into the little boot before falling into him, her arms encircling his torso as she nuzzled the space above his stomach. Looking up, her eyes drilled into his own, the silver reflection of the moon lining her glittering eyes with an insidious light as her quiet voice jingled out, “I always get what I want.”
