Greetings all you good people on the TMF
The “Temple of the Torture Goddess” story continues with Part 13. There’s lots of action in this one — several f/m incidents, a little f/f wrestling, and general sexiness all around.
Previously…
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Once more, thank you to everyone who has read it or sent me a message, and a special shout out to all you generous commentors. Thankyouthankyouthankyou…
I didn't commission an image for this section, but if there are any artists reading along who feel inspired... send me a message and we'll talk.
But enough. Hope you enjoy it…
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Temple of the Torture Goddess — Part 13
I resumed my usual duties as a slave-apprentice down in the laundry, but over the next couple days, it became all too obvious that something about my status had changed, and not for the better. Over time, the quick little tickles and pinches and teases I had received from the women in the laundry had lessened. Though I still got my fair share (and gave a little back, too), I no longer felt particularly singled out. No longer new, I was simply another slave-apprentice.
Yet overnight that trend seemed to creep back up in the opposite direction, and I became a target of what felt like a nearly constant barrage of teasing, some of it quite bold. As I went about my tasks, other workers would look over at me, whispering behind their hands and snickering.
At first, I thought I was imagining things, that they really weren’t watching me or whispering about me, or touching me any more than usual, and as the day went on I kept telling myself that, even as the evidence that there was something different going on became practically undeniable. But if I really was the focus of renewed attention, something had to have changed, and I didn’t know what that was.
It was spelled out to me by Toni, a short, pleasingly-plump woman with long reddish brown hair, who sidled up to me as I was working alone in a corner of the room, hanging up sheets. “So,” she said. “They say you’re the one who came from just being tickled.”
Taken aback, it took me a few moments to answer. “Uhh… yes. They… gave us this stuff… Piper’s Sugar, I guess it’s called… They made us all drink some…”
“Uh-huh. But no one else came. I didn’t come when they gave it to me once. I wanted to real bad. I thought I would. But I didn’t.”
“Well… I guess it effects people differently…”
“Is that it?” She moved closer to me. “So normally, you wouldn’t come from just being tickled?”
“Well, I don’t…”
“’Cause some of us are sort of curious if Piper’s Sugar really had anything to do with it.”
“Of course it… yeep!… stop it!”
Her hands darted out to tickle my waist and stomach. Swatting at her hands, I instinctively jerked away. My foot slipped on the wet tiles and I crashed on to my butt. Toni grabbed one of my ankles, lifting my leg straight up. She pressed it against her body and held my ankle in the crook of one arm. “Your feet were being tickled, right?” she grinned. “Is that the magic spot?” She began rapidly scratching my arch with her blunt fingernails.
“… gahaha!… stop! Stop!… heehee!… you’re gonna get us in trouble!…” I kicked and struggled, my spluttering and squawking turning into full-fledged giggles as I tried to yank my ankle out of her grip. “Stop it!”
Drawn by the noise, a few girls gathered, followed very shortly by Mistress Wynne and a pair of guards. As I protested my innocence, Toni and I were quickly stripped and hung back-to-back by our wrists from an overhead beam. I thought we’d be whipped, or at least receive a few strokes with the flail, but instead Wynne permitted a gaggle of slave-apprentices to tickle us, much like on my first day in the laundry. Toni and I bumped into each other, laughing and squealing as multiple hands and dozens of fingers danced all over our naked bodies. Mistress Wynne called the girls off after a short time, and Toni and I were left there to stew.
I wasn’t left alone for too long, though. A couple mischievous imps blocked the guards’ view with a wide sheet draped over a beam. They gagged and tickled me, telling me they wanted to make me come just from being tickled. The torment didn’t last too long — the guards found them, and both girls got a half-dozen strokes with the flail.
But the punishments meted out for hi-jinx didn’t seem to dissuade anyone. Toni and I were let down and put back to work — without our clothes — and while she kept her hands off me, many of the others showed me plenty of attention. They were always very careful not to get caught, dashing away or returning to work at the approach of a guard, leaving me flustered and jumpy. On a couple occasions I was tickled to the floor, Mistress Wynne finding me curled up and shaking with “after giggles,” the culprits having darted away.
“Mistress Wynne is quite irate at the conditions in the laundry,” Foxy told me during her nightly visit. “The slave-apprentices are more rambunctious than usual. She suspects that you are the cause.”
I stammered that it wasn’t my fault. Foxy snorted. “They sense weakness,” she said. “Those who let their desires get the best of them — as you did — are often made a target. The other slave-apprentices know you are helpless to the cravings of your body. I have emphasized the need to control your passions …”
Even Foxy’s demeanor towards me seemed to have changed. That impatience I had seen glimpses of earlier was far more prominent now. Though her treatment of me on her nightly visits was no harsher than it had been, she spoke with a vehemence I hadn’t heard before.
The unfairness of it all stung. Under torture — or even just the threat of torture — every slave-apprentice here could be made to say or do anything. I had seen many of them reduced to gibbering wrecks, heard their abject, desperate pleas for mercy. Any one of them could probably be made to “ticklegasm” like I had — it was rare, but not unheard of, especially if they were under the influence of that potion. Yet my own adventure had marked me out. I had to endure, wait for the attention to fade or pass on to someone else, and try my best to get back into what passed for Foxy’s good graces. I thought several times about begging a favor from High Priestess Vonda, to see if she might intervene on my behalf, but slave-apprentices did not ask for audiences with a priestess, and I honestly don’t know if I would have been bold enough to ask.
A few frustrating days passed in the laundry, until one morning we found ourselves herded back out into the fields, orchards, and vineyards once again. There were a lot of slave-apprentices working on the grounds, spread out over a wide area, with a number of guards and overseers patrolling to look for mischief-makers and slackers. I saw Priestess Lafay on duty as overall supervisor as we were led out of the gate.
My little group was marched far out into the vineyards by Mistress Wynne. One of us pulled a small cart stacked with big empty buckets. Darlene was there, as was Elyse and several other women I knew from the laundry.
Mistress Wynne addressed us after she put us to work picking grapes. “I don’t think I need to remind you of what happened the last time some of you were let out into the gardens,” she said. “Any trouble makers will be punished so severely it’ll make your ordeal in the stocks look like a bubble bath. Am I clear?”
After warning us that guards would be coming by periodically, she strode away, leaving us to our work. But the day was warm and bright, putting everyone in a good mood, and it wasn’t long before many of the women were casually chatting and laughing as they picked grapes. I was a little nervous, being out here without constant supervision, but I hoped the fact that the overseers would be on heightened alert for potential trouble would protect me.
But they couldn’t see everything, of course. I was given a quick “goose” by one of the girls as she passed behind me, causing me to jump.
“Careful there,” Darlene said to the woman who had goosed me. “You might make him pop. Haven’t you heard that he can come from just being tickled?”
“That’s what they say.”
“Oh, it’s true,” said Darlene. “I was there. I saw it.”
“Come on, Darlene,” I said. “They made me take that Piper’s Sugar. You were the one who told me what it did.”
“We all took it,” she said. “But you came just from having your feet tickled.” She gave my waist a quick poke and I jumped.
“Stop it!” I snapped, swatting at her hand. Darlene had already turned back to picking grapes.
“Do you know what else I heard, girls?” Darlene went on. “I’ve heard he’s someone’s pet.”
“That’s not true,” I said.
“Whose?” a cute brunette asked.
“Don’t know,” Darlene said. “Probably one of the priestesses. He gets special favors…”
“I don’t!” I said. “That’s not true, Darlene. Where did that come from?”
Elyse spoke up. “Well, that explains something. After the tribute banquet, they chained me to the wall of his cell and let him have his way with me. I thought I was just being punished, but maybe I was a gift.”
Darlene laughed. “I’ve never had a gift waiting for me in my cell,” she said. She looked at me. “What makes you so special?”
“Nothing!” I said. “And I’m not a ‘pet’ or whatever…”
But Darlene wouldn’t let up. “Can anyone tickle you until you come, or do you only do that for priestesses and acolytes?”
“They made drink that stuff!” I said angrily. “What’s going on, Darlene? I’ve never had any problems with you.”
“No problem here…”
“Then let’s get back to work,” I said. “They’re going to be watching us closely today.”
Darlene laughed and turned back to plucking grapes. “Ok, calm down…”
I watched her for a few moments before resuming my own work. A few of the others started talking again, and I figured the focus had moved off me, for now, at least. I was standing on my tiptoes, reaching up to the top, when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind. Hands darted up underneath my shirt, rapidly wriggling fingers burrowed deep into my stomach and ribs.
The olive skin tone on my tickler’s arms told me it was Darlene. Breaking out of her embrace probably wouldn’t have been too difficult, but she had caught me by surprise, and her attack was devastating. Her fingers seemed to press directly into my nerve endings. It was like I had been shocked. I let out a surprised squawk, my body jolting instinctively. “Yaaa-haaahaaa!” My arms flailed helplessly as I laughed and twisted in her grasp, my knees buckled, and I felt myself dropping to the ground. As I fell, the hands left my ribs to grab the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head.
“Gosh, did you come already?” Darlene said as I kneeled on the ground, gasping. But my respite lasted only a moment. Darlene savagely tickled my waist from behind, then knocked me to my stomach on the ground. I felt her straddle my butt, but my angry protest was drowned in laughter as she began another ticklish assault on my waist. Laughing, I tried to twist around, hoping to knock her off. She grabbed one wrist, then the other. Throwing her full weight on my back, she forced my arms over my head. With one hand, she held them together, pinning them to the ground. The other hand went to work on my ribs.
“… aa-ha-haaa!… Darleen staahahahaap!…”
I tossed and bucked, tried to kick her off me, tried to free my arms. But she practically had her full weight pressing down on my wrists while she sat on my back. I was as good as tied, and Darlene rapidly tickled the fight out of me. She stopped tickling and lay on top of me, holding me down with her body, and started binding my wrists together with my shirt. “No! Darlene, don’t… yaaahaahaaa!…”
Her fingers drilled into my armpits, reducing me to helpless laughter within moments. I pulled my arms in close to my body, but that only served to trap her probing fingers. My feet kicked at the ground, my head whipped back and forth.
She jumped off me for a second, rolled me over on to my back, and then straddled my shins. Her lips split in an evil grin, her eyes shining, she attacked my waist and stomach, digging her fingers into my flesh. “…Naahaahaaa!… Aaahahahaha!… Sstaaahahahahapp!…”
My hands were bound in front of me. I pushed at her, tried to sit up, but I was being tickled too hard and laughing too much to launch a counter-attack. I twisted my torso back and forth, striking at her with my bound arms, but she’d just swat me away.
Darlene grabbed the waist band of my shorts and tugged them down to my knees. “Let’s see how long it takes you to pop,” she said as she dug her hands into my hips.
“…no-ho-ho-ho!… no!… hahahahahaa!…”
The other girls were all obviously enjoying the show, laughing and jeering as they watched Darlene tickle me to pieces. I could barely even struggle anymore, my whole body shaking with laughter. “…Da-har-har-leeheeheenn! …st-staahahahahapp!… ahahahah!…”
Then, one of the women screamed. The unmistakable crack of a pleasure whip cut through my laughter. Darlene suddenly shot up, her eyes wide in shock. For a spilt second she froze above me, her body rigid. She let out a hair-raising shriek and then collapsed on top of me, moaning.
“What is going on here?!”
I blew Darlene’s dark hair off my face. Mistress Wynn stood a few feet away, holding a whip. I had never been so glad to see her. “Get up, slave-apprentice!” she shouted at Darlene. She drew the whip back and let fly. Darlene heaved herself off of me; the whip just missed her, delivering a glancing lick to her hip as she rolled away. She kept rolling for several yards, stopping well out of range of the whip.
“You seem to be a glutton for punishment, Darlene!” Mistress Wynne snapped. “You’ll be severely punished for this! You all will!”
Darlene rose to her feet, her lips twisted into a scowl. The furious glare she gave Wynne would have made anyone think twice about their next move. Anyone but Mistress Wynne. Familiar with Darlene’s defiance, the overseer took two big strides forward, bringing the whip back to strike again.
Darlene roared, lunging forward. She sprang over me, hurtling right towards Mistress Wynne. The two dark-haired women collided, crashing to the ground with angry cries. There was a flurry of grappling limbs, grunts and curses, as the two fighters tumbled in the dirt and grass.
The other women scurried to get out of the way, but no one ran, either to get help or just get the hell away from a situation that was sure to have bad consequences. Eyes wide, mouths gaping in disbelief, they were transfixed by the scene in front of them.
With a mighty push from her powerful legs, Darlene sent Wynne rolling away from her. The slave-apprentice rapidly crab-walked backwards for a few yards, keeping her eyes on her opponent, before snatching the whip off the ground from where Wynee had dropped it. Darlene hopped to her feet, whip in hand. Wynne was already up, chest heaving, her face a mask of pure rage. “Drop that NOW, slave!” she roared.
But Darlene was already midway through her stroke, and judging by the look on her face, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The whip sizzled through the air, catching Wynne across her torso with a crack so loud it made me jump. Wynne screamed, spinning around and falling on her stomach. Her back to Darlene, Wynne had just enough time to rise to her hands and knees before the pleasure whip struck her again, this time right across her buns. “EEEEYAAAAA!!!” The flesh of Wynne’s shapely butt rippled under the fabric of her pants. Her limbs flew out from under her; she lay splayed on the ground as if pinned there by the force of the blow. Moaning, she managed to rise to her hands and knees again, crawling unsteadily away.
“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it, can you?” Darlene snarled. Another crack of the whip, another ear-rending scream from Wynne as she collapsed again.
Though I was as gripped by the spectacle in front of me as the other slave-apprentices, every instinct I had was shouting at me to get out of there. Elyse and the rest of them stared with expressions of fear, awe, and disbelief. As Darlene strode forward to kneel over Wynne, I staggered to my feet. My shorts fell to my ankles when I stood, causing me to pitch forward when I tried to move. I kicked them off and got up again, casting a quick glance over my shoulder as I stared to run unsteadily down the row. Everyone was focused on Darlene and Wynne. The row in front of me was deserted, and I picked up speed as my footing became more sure. I spotted a gap in the hedges and slipped through into a parallel row, and ran towards the temple.
Naked, with my hands bound in front of me, I didn’t really have a plan. Getting out of my bindings seemed a good first step, but I didn’t want to stop to do that until I had put a comfortable distance between myself and the situation I had just left. If I ran into someone before then… well, I just hoped it was an overseer or a guard. It would be better than a group of unsupervised slave-apprentices who might see a naked and tied person as a welcome break from routine. Doubtless I’d be in some sort of trouble with the guards, too — no one at the Temple would care much about who had started what, or how it wasn’t my fault I had been stripped and bound — but maybe if I was the one to sound the alert over Darlene’s attack on Wynne, things would go easier for me.
I ran down the row, in between the racks of vines. It appeared deserted, but far ahead of me, I saw what appeared to be a crossroads. I paused for a second, trying to loosen the cloth and free my wrists. The pounding of feet and deep breaths were the only warning I got before something crashed into me from behind, knocking me to the ground.
“AH HA! Got ‘im!”
Whoever had jumped on top of me got up and rolled me on to my back. “Elyse!” I cried.
“Where do you think you’re running to?” she laughed, straddling my waist. Four other women from our group came up behind her.
“Get off me, Elyse! We have to get a guard…”
“Maybe later,” she said, grinning. “Did you think I’d just forgotten our night together? Did you think I’d just let it go?”
“But Elyse…!”
“Oh, I’m not saying I didn’t have fun, but you really made me earn it. I thought it was kind of strange, how they just chained me up in your cell like that,” she said, inflicting little pokes on my stomach as I futilely tried to block her hands. “I didn’t know I was your little gift. A special gift for a special pet.”
“Elyse, come on, let me up…”
“Well, I hope you enjoyed your gift, because now your gift is going to enjoy you. I’m going to finish what Darlene started…”
“No…!”
“… but I’m going to be far more generous than she was. Hold him down girls, and please join in!”
A brunette grabbed my bound wrists and stretched them over my head, pinning them to the ground with her knees. The other two women knelt behind Elyse; I felt a hand grip each ankle.
Elyse’s splayed fingertips trickled down my chest, circling my nipples a few times before continuing their descent. “Tell me, whose pet are you?” she said.
“I don’t… (hee-hee) I’m not… (splutter) it’s not t-t-true…” The brunette holding my wrists flickered her fingers up and down the undersides of my forearms before slipping into my underarms. She pressed her fingers into the center of my hollows and started rmaking rapid little circles. “…aaahaaahaa… do-hohohntt… naahahaha!…” Fingers ran up and down my arches, slipped in between my toes. Elyse tickled my sides and ribs with dancing fingers, grinning down at me. “We’re going to make you pop, just like this,” she said.
“…no!… hehehehe!… yooo k-kantt… heeheehee… I w-wontt…”
“We’ll see about that…” She lightly “pumped” my stretched rib cage, making my back arch.
“…aahahahah!… do-hohontt… neeeheehee… stahp!…”
“Whose pet are you?” she said. “Who’s taken a fancy to you?”
“… no wuh-huh-uhnn!… hahahahh!…”
She started lightly kneading my sides, spider-clawing my stomach. This wasn’t the “hard” tickling that Darlene had given me, but with eight hands doing their worst it was bad enough. Elyse asked me once more who had taken a fancy to me. I was laughing too much to answer, but getting the name of my secret benefactor out of me didn’t seem to be her goal. “Are you close yet?” she said. “Are you going to give us a gigglgasm? Hmm?”
I was barely able to move, though my body bucked and twisted as much as it could underneath them. “… naaahahahaha!… eeeheeheee!…STAHPP!… hahaha!…GEHEHETT OFFF!… aahahahahaa!…”
“Oh no,” Elyse said. “We won’t. Not until you…”
“Well look at this,” said a voice. “I had a feeling all that laughter wasn’t just due to high spirits.”
The tickling stopped. Gasping and giggling, I blinked the tears from my eyes to clear my vision. A small crowd had gathered, drawn by the commotion. It was mostly other slave-apprentices, though I saw several guards among them. Standing at the center of the loose semi-circle was Priestess Lafay with a little smirk on her face.
“So,” she said. “Someone explain to me why you’ve all shirked your duties to tickle this slave-apprentice. If I like what I hear, I might not punish you. I might even let you go on.”
Priestess Lafay had a reputation as being one of the more indulgent priestesses in the temple, and her tone of voice — not to mention that smirk — seemed to indicate amusement rather than anger. “We’re sorry for the disturbance, mistress,” Elyse said. “But we had to teach him a quick lesson.
“Teach him a lesson?”
“He’s been very handsy all day, mistress. Pinching our butts, squeezing our tits, tickling us… we can’t get any work done.”
Still gasping, I blurted out the first thing I thought of that might save me. “…mistress Wynne… mmmphh…” I didn’t care about Wynne or Darlene; I just knew the attention would be off me. But the brunette pinning my wrists down slipped a hand over my mouth. Lafay didn’t notice.
“Hmm… well, that is a problem,” she went on. “But you know we don’t allow slave-apprentices to administer discipline.”
“Of course, mistress. But we didn’t want to bother you or the guards, and we need to fill our quotas. We thought we’d just tickle him until he came and then…”
“Tickle him until he comes?”
“Yes, mistress. He came during a session…”
“You don’t have to tell me, slave-apprentice. I was there. Very surprising. But he was under the influence of Piper’s Sugar at the time.”
“Yes, mistress, but he’s so sensitive and ticklish we wanted to see if we could make him pop just from tickling.”
“And without touching him? Hmmm… well, that could be very interesting. I don’t have to tell you all this is outside the rules, but let’s see if you can do it. Here’s the challenge: I’ll give you a turn of my sand glass. If you do it, you’ll return to your work and there’ll be no consequences for you. If you fail, you’ll spend the rest of the day in the stocks, and get whatever punishment you deserve for such an infraction. Do you accept?”
“Yes! Thank you, mistress!”
Another woman in the crowd called out. “Wait! Wait mistress!” When she stepped forward to stand next to Lafay, I saw it was Raisha. “Forgive me, mistress, but this slave-apprentice is under Mistress Foxy’s training. She’ll be angry…”
Lafay laughed. “No doubt. She’s always angry about something. Maybe the mighty Mistress Foxy should reconsider her methods if one of her charges can be so easily tickled into oblivion by these bimbos. It would certainly take her down a notch or two.”
At a snap of the priestess fingers, Elyse and the other girls re-launched their vigorous tickle attack. My mouth free, I tried once more to raise the alarm about Darlene and Wynne. “… hahahaha!… D-d-arrleeheheheenn!… sh-sheeheehee… eeheeeheee!…”
Elyse kept her fingers moving over my torso, lightly pressing into my ribs, goosing my sides, pressing into my hips. I laughed and laughed, wriggling frantically. Jeers and catcalls from the gathered crowd reached my ears over my laughter. Though I had only the vaguest impression of the voices and faces of the women around us, even in my torment I was very conscious of their presence, or their eyes on us. As Elyse spider-danced her way across my stomach, paying special attention to my lower belly, right underneath my navel, the idea that Elyse and her minions might really tickle me into orgasm seemed a very real possibility. It had happened to me before, in much different circumstances, or the tickling had gotten me so wound up that a single flick of a finger was all it took to put me over the edge. I was getting close now; the sensations consuming my helpless body equally excruciating and arousing. And if it happened in front of perhaps a dozen slave-apprentices, the teasing I had been subjected to of late would get much, much worse. Not only that, but Foxy be furious — at Priestess Lafay, at my tormentors, but mostly at me, at my inability to control my appetites.
“Who’s your mistress?” Elyse taunted me.
“… F-foxeeeheehee!… gahahaa!…”
“No she isn’t,” Elyse said. “I think I’m your mistress, aren’t I?”
“…no-ho-ho-ho!…”
“Yes! I’m your mistress! Say it!”
“… no!… no-hohoho pleeeeez!… hahaha!…”
“Say it! Say ‘you’re my mistress’! Say it!”
“… aaahaaahaaahaa!…yer m-myyy misstresssss!… yer my mistresss! …”
“Say ‘I love how you tickle me, Mistress Elyse’!”
“… gahahahaha!… aiee luvv how yoo teekul mee mistress eleeesss!…”
“Say ‘tickle me ‘til I come, sweet Mistress Elyse’!”
“… teehikul m-mee-hee-hee t-til… eeeheehee…” I was laughing too much to get the words out, but Elyse got what she wanted. In the end, she cheated. Though Priestess Lefay probably missed it, Elyse knew what she was doing. Leaning forward to lick my nipple, Elyse let her soft belly press against the length of me. It was just for a few moments, but all that supple, warm flesh was all it took. “YEEEAHAHAHAH!”
Elyse’s own cry of triumph joined my ecstatic howl and the calls and cheers of the women watching. I was aware of almost nothing for a few moments after I came. Barely conscious, tremors still shooting through my body, I felt Elyse and the other women get off me. I lay on the ground moaning, the world spinning.
But the excited hubbub of the small crowd was suddenly silenced. I had heard no command, no shout. I tried to raise my head, but was too exhausted by my ordeal. I forced my eyes to stay open, and tilted my head to the side.
From my vantage point on the ground, I could only see a forest of feet and calves, but one pair stood out among the sandals of Priestess Lafay and the guards and the bare feet of the slave-apprentices — the black boots and leggings of Mistress Foxy.
“… don’t owe you an explanation, Mistress Foxy,” Priestess Lafay was saying, her voice seemingly unconcerned. “We were conducting an experiment, and teaching this slave-apprentice a lesson. You saw the results.”
Foxy’s voice was even, low. Only her clipped words hinted at the rage she was feeling. “What I saw,” Foxy said, “was a complete breakdown of discipline, with the approval of a priestess of the order.”
“Yes, Mistress Foxy,” said Lafay said. “I did approve it. And as I said, as a priestess of the order, I don’t owe you an explanation. This slave-apprentice — your slave-apprentice — was a discipline problem, so I handled it…”
“It is not your place to discipline my slave-apprentices, Priestess.”
“I can discipline your slave-apprentices in any way I see fit.”
“The High Priestess will hear of this,” Foxy said. “Guards, get him up. Take him to his…”
From somewhere close by came the shrill bleat of a whistle. It was quickly followed by two more — short, sharp blasts that cut through the bright, sunny day and for a moment seemed to freeze Lafay and Foxy where they stood.
“That’s the alert,” Lafay gasped.
Foxy gestured to two of the guards. “Get him to his cell and return immediately,” she snapped. “Move!”
Lafay was speaking to the remaining guards. “Round up these slave-apprentices and take them back to the Temple. Hurry!”
“What’s happening, mistress?”
“Silence! Just do what you’re told…”
With a guard on either side of me and my arms around their shoulders, I was half-dragged, half-marched towards the temple. A contingent of guards ran past us, headed the other direction — I noticed a couple of them carrying stun rifles. As we got closer, I saw groups of slave-apprentices being herded towards the gates. The courtyard was already crowded with slave-apprentices brought in from the fields and orchards. Overseers barked orders, whips cracked, guards hurried by with wands drawn. The cry of the whistle repeated itself over and over, three quick blasts in rapid succession.
I was marched through the courtyard and to my small room. True to Foxy’s orders, the guards threw me inside and left, locking the door behind them.
-------------------------
Part 14 is right here.
The “Temple of the Torture Goddess” story continues with Part 13. There’s lots of action in this one — several f/m incidents, a little f/f wrestling, and general sexiness all around.
Previously…
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Once more, thank you to everyone who has read it or sent me a message, and a special shout out to all you generous commentors. Thankyouthankyouthankyou…
I didn't commission an image for this section, but if there are any artists reading along who feel inspired... send me a message and we'll talk.
But enough. Hope you enjoy it…
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Temple of the Torture Goddess — Part 13
I resumed my usual duties as a slave-apprentice down in the laundry, but over the next couple days, it became all too obvious that something about my status had changed, and not for the better. Over time, the quick little tickles and pinches and teases I had received from the women in the laundry had lessened. Though I still got my fair share (and gave a little back, too), I no longer felt particularly singled out. No longer new, I was simply another slave-apprentice.
Yet overnight that trend seemed to creep back up in the opposite direction, and I became a target of what felt like a nearly constant barrage of teasing, some of it quite bold. As I went about my tasks, other workers would look over at me, whispering behind their hands and snickering.
At first, I thought I was imagining things, that they really weren’t watching me or whispering about me, or touching me any more than usual, and as the day went on I kept telling myself that, even as the evidence that there was something different going on became practically undeniable. But if I really was the focus of renewed attention, something had to have changed, and I didn’t know what that was.
It was spelled out to me by Toni, a short, pleasingly-plump woman with long reddish brown hair, who sidled up to me as I was working alone in a corner of the room, hanging up sheets. “So,” she said. “They say you’re the one who came from just being tickled.”
Taken aback, it took me a few moments to answer. “Uhh… yes. They… gave us this stuff… Piper’s Sugar, I guess it’s called… They made us all drink some…”
“Uh-huh. But no one else came. I didn’t come when they gave it to me once. I wanted to real bad. I thought I would. But I didn’t.”
“Well… I guess it effects people differently…”
“Is that it?” She moved closer to me. “So normally, you wouldn’t come from just being tickled?”
“Well, I don’t…”
“’Cause some of us are sort of curious if Piper’s Sugar really had anything to do with it.”
“Of course it… yeep!… stop it!”
Her hands darted out to tickle my waist and stomach. Swatting at her hands, I instinctively jerked away. My foot slipped on the wet tiles and I crashed on to my butt. Toni grabbed one of my ankles, lifting my leg straight up. She pressed it against her body and held my ankle in the crook of one arm. “Your feet were being tickled, right?” she grinned. “Is that the magic spot?” She began rapidly scratching my arch with her blunt fingernails.
“… gahaha!… stop! Stop!… heehee!… you’re gonna get us in trouble!…” I kicked and struggled, my spluttering and squawking turning into full-fledged giggles as I tried to yank my ankle out of her grip. “Stop it!”
Drawn by the noise, a few girls gathered, followed very shortly by Mistress Wynne and a pair of guards. As I protested my innocence, Toni and I were quickly stripped and hung back-to-back by our wrists from an overhead beam. I thought we’d be whipped, or at least receive a few strokes with the flail, but instead Wynne permitted a gaggle of slave-apprentices to tickle us, much like on my first day in the laundry. Toni and I bumped into each other, laughing and squealing as multiple hands and dozens of fingers danced all over our naked bodies. Mistress Wynne called the girls off after a short time, and Toni and I were left there to stew.
I wasn’t left alone for too long, though. A couple mischievous imps blocked the guards’ view with a wide sheet draped over a beam. They gagged and tickled me, telling me they wanted to make me come just from being tickled. The torment didn’t last too long — the guards found them, and both girls got a half-dozen strokes with the flail.
But the punishments meted out for hi-jinx didn’t seem to dissuade anyone. Toni and I were let down and put back to work — without our clothes — and while she kept her hands off me, many of the others showed me plenty of attention. They were always very careful not to get caught, dashing away or returning to work at the approach of a guard, leaving me flustered and jumpy. On a couple occasions I was tickled to the floor, Mistress Wynne finding me curled up and shaking with “after giggles,” the culprits having darted away.
“Mistress Wynne is quite irate at the conditions in the laundry,” Foxy told me during her nightly visit. “The slave-apprentices are more rambunctious than usual. She suspects that you are the cause.”
I stammered that it wasn’t my fault. Foxy snorted. “They sense weakness,” she said. “Those who let their desires get the best of them — as you did — are often made a target. The other slave-apprentices know you are helpless to the cravings of your body. I have emphasized the need to control your passions …”
Even Foxy’s demeanor towards me seemed to have changed. That impatience I had seen glimpses of earlier was far more prominent now. Though her treatment of me on her nightly visits was no harsher than it had been, she spoke with a vehemence I hadn’t heard before.
The unfairness of it all stung. Under torture — or even just the threat of torture — every slave-apprentice here could be made to say or do anything. I had seen many of them reduced to gibbering wrecks, heard their abject, desperate pleas for mercy. Any one of them could probably be made to “ticklegasm” like I had — it was rare, but not unheard of, especially if they were under the influence of that potion. Yet my own adventure had marked me out. I had to endure, wait for the attention to fade or pass on to someone else, and try my best to get back into what passed for Foxy’s good graces. I thought several times about begging a favor from High Priestess Vonda, to see if she might intervene on my behalf, but slave-apprentices did not ask for audiences with a priestess, and I honestly don’t know if I would have been bold enough to ask.
A few frustrating days passed in the laundry, until one morning we found ourselves herded back out into the fields, orchards, and vineyards once again. There were a lot of slave-apprentices working on the grounds, spread out over a wide area, with a number of guards and overseers patrolling to look for mischief-makers and slackers. I saw Priestess Lafay on duty as overall supervisor as we were led out of the gate.
My little group was marched far out into the vineyards by Mistress Wynne. One of us pulled a small cart stacked with big empty buckets. Darlene was there, as was Elyse and several other women I knew from the laundry.
Mistress Wynne addressed us after she put us to work picking grapes. “I don’t think I need to remind you of what happened the last time some of you were let out into the gardens,” she said. “Any trouble makers will be punished so severely it’ll make your ordeal in the stocks look like a bubble bath. Am I clear?”
After warning us that guards would be coming by periodically, she strode away, leaving us to our work. But the day was warm and bright, putting everyone in a good mood, and it wasn’t long before many of the women were casually chatting and laughing as they picked grapes. I was a little nervous, being out here without constant supervision, but I hoped the fact that the overseers would be on heightened alert for potential trouble would protect me.
But they couldn’t see everything, of course. I was given a quick “goose” by one of the girls as she passed behind me, causing me to jump.
“Careful there,” Darlene said to the woman who had goosed me. “You might make him pop. Haven’t you heard that he can come from just being tickled?”
“That’s what they say.”
“Oh, it’s true,” said Darlene. “I was there. I saw it.”
“Come on, Darlene,” I said. “They made me take that Piper’s Sugar. You were the one who told me what it did.”
“We all took it,” she said. “But you came just from having your feet tickled.” She gave my waist a quick poke and I jumped.
“Stop it!” I snapped, swatting at her hand. Darlene had already turned back to picking grapes.
“Do you know what else I heard, girls?” Darlene went on. “I’ve heard he’s someone’s pet.”
“That’s not true,” I said.
“Whose?” a cute brunette asked.
“Don’t know,” Darlene said. “Probably one of the priestesses. He gets special favors…”
“I don’t!” I said. “That’s not true, Darlene. Where did that come from?”
Elyse spoke up. “Well, that explains something. After the tribute banquet, they chained me to the wall of his cell and let him have his way with me. I thought I was just being punished, but maybe I was a gift.”
Darlene laughed. “I’ve never had a gift waiting for me in my cell,” she said. She looked at me. “What makes you so special?”
“Nothing!” I said. “And I’m not a ‘pet’ or whatever…”
But Darlene wouldn’t let up. “Can anyone tickle you until you come, or do you only do that for priestesses and acolytes?”
“They made drink that stuff!” I said angrily. “What’s going on, Darlene? I’ve never had any problems with you.”
“No problem here…”
“Then let’s get back to work,” I said. “They’re going to be watching us closely today.”
Darlene laughed and turned back to plucking grapes. “Ok, calm down…”
I watched her for a few moments before resuming my own work. A few of the others started talking again, and I figured the focus had moved off me, for now, at least. I was standing on my tiptoes, reaching up to the top, when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind. Hands darted up underneath my shirt, rapidly wriggling fingers burrowed deep into my stomach and ribs.
The olive skin tone on my tickler’s arms told me it was Darlene. Breaking out of her embrace probably wouldn’t have been too difficult, but she had caught me by surprise, and her attack was devastating. Her fingers seemed to press directly into my nerve endings. It was like I had been shocked. I let out a surprised squawk, my body jolting instinctively. “Yaaa-haaahaaa!” My arms flailed helplessly as I laughed and twisted in her grasp, my knees buckled, and I felt myself dropping to the ground. As I fell, the hands left my ribs to grab the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head.
“Gosh, did you come already?” Darlene said as I kneeled on the ground, gasping. But my respite lasted only a moment. Darlene savagely tickled my waist from behind, then knocked me to my stomach on the ground. I felt her straddle my butt, but my angry protest was drowned in laughter as she began another ticklish assault on my waist. Laughing, I tried to twist around, hoping to knock her off. She grabbed one wrist, then the other. Throwing her full weight on my back, she forced my arms over my head. With one hand, she held them together, pinning them to the ground. The other hand went to work on my ribs.
“… aa-ha-haaa!… Darleen staahahahaap!…”
I tossed and bucked, tried to kick her off me, tried to free my arms. But she practically had her full weight pressing down on my wrists while she sat on my back. I was as good as tied, and Darlene rapidly tickled the fight out of me. She stopped tickling and lay on top of me, holding me down with her body, and started binding my wrists together with my shirt. “No! Darlene, don’t… yaaahaahaaa!…”
Her fingers drilled into my armpits, reducing me to helpless laughter within moments. I pulled my arms in close to my body, but that only served to trap her probing fingers. My feet kicked at the ground, my head whipped back and forth.
She jumped off me for a second, rolled me over on to my back, and then straddled my shins. Her lips split in an evil grin, her eyes shining, she attacked my waist and stomach, digging her fingers into my flesh. “…Naahaahaaa!… Aaahahahaha!… Sstaaahahahahapp!…”
My hands were bound in front of me. I pushed at her, tried to sit up, but I was being tickled too hard and laughing too much to launch a counter-attack. I twisted my torso back and forth, striking at her with my bound arms, but she’d just swat me away.
Darlene grabbed the waist band of my shorts and tugged them down to my knees. “Let’s see how long it takes you to pop,” she said as she dug her hands into my hips.
“…no-ho-ho-ho!… no!… hahahahahaa!…”
The other girls were all obviously enjoying the show, laughing and jeering as they watched Darlene tickle me to pieces. I could barely even struggle anymore, my whole body shaking with laughter. “…Da-har-har-leeheeheenn! …st-staahahahahapp!… ahahahah!…”
Then, one of the women screamed. The unmistakable crack of a pleasure whip cut through my laughter. Darlene suddenly shot up, her eyes wide in shock. For a spilt second she froze above me, her body rigid. She let out a hair-raising shriek and then collapsed on top of me, moaning.
“What is going on here?!”
I blew Darlene’s dark hair off my face. Mistress Wynn stood a few feet away, holding a whip. I had never been so glad to see her. “Get up, slave-apprentice!” she shouted at Darlene. She drew the whip back and let fly. Darlene heaved herself off of me; the whip just missed her, delivering a glancing lick to her hip as she rolled away. She kept rolling for several yards, stopping well out of range of the whip.
“You seem to be a glutton for punishment, Darlene!” Mistress Wynne snapped. “You’ll be severely punished for this! You all will!”
Darlene rose to her feet, her lips twisted into a scowl. The furious glare she gave Wynne would have made anyone think twice about their next move. Anyone but Mistress Wynne. Familiar with Darlene’s defiance, the overseer took two big strides forward, bringing the whip back to strike again.
Darlene roared, lunging forward. She sprang over me, hurtling right towards Mistress Wynne. The two dark-haired women collided, crashing to the ground with angry cries. There was a flurry of grappling limbs, grunts and curses, as the two fighters tumbled in the dirt and grass.
The other women scurried to get out of the way, but no one ran, either to get help or just get the hell away from a situation that was sure to have bad consequences. Eyes wide, mouths gaping in disbelief, they were transfixed by the scene in front of them.
With a mighty push from her powerful legs, Darlene sent Wynne rolling away from her. The slave-apprentice rapidly crab-walked backwards for a few yards, keeping her eyes on her opponent, before snatching the whip off the ground from where Wynee had dropped it. Darlene hopped to her feet, whip in hand. Wynne was already up, chest heaving, her face a mask of pure rage. “Drop that NOW, slave!” she roared.
But Darlene was already midway through her stroke, and judging by the look on her face, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The whip sizzled through the air, catching Wynne across her torso with a crack so loud it made me jump. Wynne screamed, spinning around and falling on her stomach. Her back to Darlene, Wynne had just enough time to rise to her hands and knees before the pleasure whip struck her again, this time right across her buns. “EEEEYAAAAA!!!” The flesh of Wynne’s shapely butt rippled under the fabric of her pants. Her limbs flew out from under her; she lay splayed on the ground as if pinned there by the force of the blow. Moaning, she managed to rise to her hands and knees again, crawling unsteadily away.
“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it, can you?” Darlene snarled. Another crack of the whip, another ear-rending scream from Wynne as she collapsed again.
Though I was as gripped by the spectacle in front of me as the other slave-apprentices, every instinct I had was shouting at me to get out of there. Elyse and the rest of them stared with expressions of fear, awe, and disbelief. As Darlene strode forward to kneel over Wynne, I staggered to my feet. My shorts fell to my ankles when I stood, causing me to pitch forward when I tried to move. I kicked them off and got up again, casting a quick glance over my shoulder as I stared to run unsteadily down the row. Everyone was focused on Darlene and Wynne. The row in front of me was deserted, and I picked up speed as my footing became more sure. I spotted a gap in the hedges and slipped through into a parallel row, and ran towards the temple.
Naked, with my hands bound in front of me, I didn’t really have a plan. Getting out of my bindings seemed a good first step, but I didn’t want to stop to do that until I had put a comfortable distance between myself and the situation I had just left. If I ran into someone before then… well, I just hoped it was an overseer or a guard. It would be better than a group of unsupervised slave-apprentices who might see a naked and tied person as a welcome break from routine. Doubtless I’d be in some sort of trouble with the guards, too — no one at the Temple would care much about who had started what, or how it wasn’t my fault I had been stripped and bound — but maybe if I was the one to sound the alert over Darlene’s attack on Wynne, things would go easier for me.
I ran down the row, in between the racks of vines. It appeared deserted, but far ahead of me, I saw what appeared to be a crossroads. I paused for a second, trying to loosen the cloth and free my wrists. The pounding of feet and deep breaths were the only warning I got before something crashed into me from behind, knocking me to the ground.
“AH HA! Got ‘im!”
Whoever had jumped on top of me got up and rolled me on to my back. “Elyse!” I cried.
“Where do you think you’re running to?” she laughed, straddling my waist. Four other women from our group came up behind her.
“Get off me, Elyse! We have to get a guard…”
“Maybe later,” she said, grinning. “Did you think I’d just forgotten our night together? Did you think I’d just let it go?”
“But Elyse…!”
“Oh, I’m not saying I didn’t have fun, but you really made me earn it. I thought it was kind of strange, how they just chained me up in your cell like that,” she said, inflicting little pokes on my stomach as I futilely tried to block her hands. “I didn’t know I was your little gift. A special gift for a special pet.”
“Elyse, come on, let me up…”
“Well, I hope you enjoyed your gift, because now your gift is going to enjoy you. I’m going to finish what Darlene started…”
“No…!”
“… but I’m going to be far more generous than she was. Hold him down girls, and please join in!”
A brunette grabbed my bound wrists and stretched them over my head, pinning them to the ground with her knees. The other two women knelt behind Elyse; I felt a hand grip each ankle.
Elyse’s splayed fingertips trickled down my chest, circling my nipples a few times before continuing their descent. “Tell me, whose pet are you?” she said.
“I don’t… (hee-hee) I’m not… (splutter) it’s not t-t-true…” The brunette holding my wrists flickered her fingers up and down the undersides of my forearms before slipping into my underarms. She pressed her fingers into the center of my hollows and started rmaking rapid little circles. “…aaahaaahaa… do-hohohntt… naahahaha!…” Fingers ran up and down my arches, slipped in between my toes. Elyse tickled my sides and ribs with dancing fingers, grinning down at me. “We’re going to make you pop, just like this,” she said.
“…no!… hehehehe!… yooo k-kantt… heeheehee… I w-wontt…”
“We’ll see about that…” She lightly “pumped” my stretched rib cage, making my back arch.
“…aahahahah!… do-hohontt… neeeheehee… stahp!…”
“Whose pet are you?” she said. “Who’s taken a fancy to you?”
“… no wuh-huh-uhnn!… hahahahh!…”
She started lightly kneading my sides, spider-clawing my stomach. This wasn’t the “hard” tickling that Darlene had given me, but with eight hands doing their worst it was bad enough. Elyse asked me once more who had taken a fancy to me. I was laughing too much to answer, but getting the name of my secret benefactor out of me didn’t seem to be her goal. “Are you close yet?” she said. “Are you going to give us a gigglgasm? Hmm?”
I was barely able to move, though my body bucked and twisted as much as it could underneath them. “… naaahahahaha!… eeeheeheee!…STAHPP!… hahaha!…GEHEHETT OFFF!… aahahahahaa!…”
“Oh no,” Elyse said. “We won’t. Not until you…”
“Well look at this,” said a voice. “I had a feeling all that laughter wasn’t just due to high spirits.”
The tickling stopped. Gasping and giggling, I blinked the tears from my eyes to clear my vision. A small crowd had gathered, drawn by the commotion. It was mostly other slave-apprentices, though I saw several guards among them. Standing at the center of the loose semi-circle was Priestess Lafay with a little smirk on her face.
“So,” she said. “Someone explain to me why you’ve all shirked your duties to tickle this slave-apprentice. If I like what I hear, I might not punish you. I might even let you go on.”
Priestess Lafay had a reputation as being one of the more indulgent priestesses in the temple, and her tone of voice — not to mention that smirk — seemed to indicate amusement rather than anger. “We’re sorry for the disturbance, mistress,” Elyse said. “But we had to teach him a quick lesson.
“Teach him a lesson?”
“He’s been very handsy all day, mistress. Pinching our butts, squeezing our tits, tickling us… we can’t get any work done.”
Still gasping, I blurted out the first thing I thought of that might save me. “…mistress Wynne… mmmphh…” I didn’t care about Wynne or Darlene; I just knew the attention would be off me. But the brunette pinning my wrists down slipped a hand over my mouth. Lafay didn’t notice.
“Hmm… well, that is a problem,” she went on. “But you know we don’t allow slave-apprentices to administer discipline.”
“Of course, mistress. But we didn’t want to bother you or the guards, and we need to fill our quotas. We thought we’d just tickle him until he came and then…”
“Tickle him until he comes?”
“Yes, mistress. He came during a session…”
“You don’t have to tell me, slave-apprentice. I was there. Very surprising. But he was under the influence of Piper’s Sugar at the time.”
“Yes, mistress, but he’s so sensitive and ticklish we wanted to see if we could make him pop just from tickling.”
“And without touching him? Hmmm… well, that could be very interesting. I don’t have to tell you all this is outside the rules, but let’s see if you can do it. Here’s the challenge: I’ll give you a turn of my sand glass. If you do it, you’ll return to your work and there’ll be no consequences for you. If you fail, you’ll spend the rest of the day in the stocks, and get whatever punishment you deserve for such an infraction. Do you accept?”
“Yes! Thank you, mistress!”
Another woman in the crowd called out. “Wait! Wait mistress!” When she stepped forward to stand next to Lafay, I saw it was Raisha. “Forgive me, mistress, but this slave-apprentice is under Mistress Foxy’s training. She’ll be angry…”
Lafay laughed. “No doubt. She’s always angry about something. Maybe the mighty Mistress Foxy should reconsider her methods if one of her charges can be so easily tickled into oblivion by these bimbos. It would certainly take her down a notch or two.”
At a snap of the priestess fingers, Elyse and the other girls re-launched their vigorous tickle attack. My mouth free, I tried once more to raise the alarm about Darlene and Wynne. “… hahahaha!… D-d-arrleeheheheenn!… sh-sheeheehee… eeheeeheee!…”
Elyse kept her fingers moving over my torso, lightly pressing into my ribs, goosing my sides, pressing into my hips. I laughed and laughed, wriggling frantically. Jeers and catcalls from the gathered crowd reached my ears over my laughter. Though I had only the vaguest impression of the voices and faces of the women around us, even in my torment I was very conscious of their presence, or their eyes on us. As Elyse spider-danced her way across my stomach, paying special attention to my lower belly, right underneath my navel, the idea that Elyse and her minions might really tickle me into orgasm seemed a very real possibility. It had happened to me before, in much different circumstances, or the tickling had gotten me so wound up that a single flick of a finger was all it took to put me over the edge. I was getting close now; the sensations consuming my helpless body equally excruciating and arousing. And if it happened in front of perhaps a dozen slave-apprentices, the teasing I had been subjected to of late would get much, much worse. Not only that, but Foxy be furious — at Priestess Lafay, at my tormentors, but mostly at me, at my inability to control my appetites.
“Who’s your mistress?” Elyse taunted me.
“… F-foxeeeheehee!… gahahaa!…”
“No she isn’t,” Elyse said. “I think I’m your mistress, aren’t I?”
“…no-ho-ho-ho!…”
“Yes! I’m your mistress! Say it!”
“… no!… no-hohoho pleeeeez!… hahaha!…”
“Say it! Say ‘you’re my mistress’! Say it!”
“… aaahaaahaaahaa!…yer m-myyy misstresssss!… yer my mistresss! …”
“Say ‘I love how you tickle me, Mistress Elyse’!”
“… gahahahaha!… aiee luvv how yoo teekul mee mistress eleeesss!…”
“Say ‘tickle me ‘til I come, sweet Mistress Elyse’!”
“… teehikul m-mee-hee-hee t-til… eeeheehee…” I was laughing too much to get the words out, but Elyse got what she wanted. In the end, she cheated. Though Priestess Lefay probably missed it, Elyse knew what she was doing. Leaning forward to lick my nipple, Elyse let her soft belly press against the length of me. It was just for a few moments, but all that supple, warm flesh was all it took. “YEEEAHAHAHAH!”
Elyse’s own cry of triumph joined my ecstatic howl and the calls and cheers of the women watching. I was aware of almost nothing for a few moments after I came. Barely conscious, tremors still shooting through my body, I felt Elyse and the other women get off me. I lay on the ground moaning, the world spinning.
But the excited hubbub of the small crowd was suddenly silenced. I had heard no command, no shout. I tried to raise my head, but was too exhausted by my ordeal. I forced my eyes to stay open, and tilted my head to the side.
From my vantage point on the ground, I could only see a forest of feet and calves, but one pair stood out among the sandals of Priestess Lafay and the guards and the bare feet of the slave-apprentices — the black boots and leggings of Mistress Foxy.
“… don’t owe you an explanation, Mistress Foxy,” Priestess Lafay was saying, her voice seemingly unconcerned. “We were conducting an experiment, and teaching this slave-apprentice a lesson. You saw the results.”
Foxy’s voice was even, low. Only her clipped words hinted at the rage she was feeling. “What I saw,” Foxy said, “was a complete breakdown of discipline, with the approval of a priestess of the order.”
“Yes, Mistress Foxy,” said Lafay said. “I did approve it. And as I said, as a priestess of the order, I don’t owe you an explanation. This slave-apprentice — your slave-apprentice — was a discipline problem, so I handled it…”
“It is not your place to discipline my slave-apprentices, Priestess.”
“I can discipline your slave-apprentices in any way I see fit.”
“The High Priestess will hear of this,” Foxy said. “Guards, get him up. Take him to his…”
From somewhere close by came the shrill bleat of a whistle. It was quickly followed by two more — short, sharp blasts that cut through the bright, sunny day and for a moment seemed to freeze Lafay and Foxy where they stood.
“That’s the alert,” Lafay gasped.
Foxy gestured to two of the guards. “Get him to his cell and return immediately,” she snapped. “Move!”
Lafay was speaking to the remaining guards. “Round up these slave-apprentices and take them back to the Temple. Hurry!”
“What’s happening, mistress?”
“Silence! Just do what you’re told…”
With a guard on either side of me and my arms around their shoulders, I was half-dragged, half-marched towards the temple. A contingent of guards ran past us, headed the other direction — I noticed a couple of them carrying stun rifles. As we got closer, I saw groups of slave-apprentices being herded towards the gates. The courtyard was already crowded with slave-apprentices brought in from the fields and orchards. Overseers barked orders, whips cracked, guards hurried by with wands drawn. The cry of the whistle repeated itself over and over, three quick blasts in rapid succession.
I was marched through the courtyard and to my small room. True to Foxy’s orders, the guards threw me inside and left, locking the door behind them.
-------------------------
Part 14 is right here.
Last edited:
