Hey all,
My first real effort at a tickling story, retyped from one I lost about 3 years ago. I would love some feedback!
This story fits into Buffy mythology in the summer after the gang finishes high school. All characters are 18. All of the characters are trademarked by Warner Brothers and/or Paramount.
Enjoy!
Buffy and Willow slowly strolled down the main hallway of the Galleria, Sunnydale’s biggest mall. The sun was shining through the large picture windows spaced around the mall, bathing the two girls in bright light. Buffy stopped in one large sunbeam, tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and let the sun warm her face. After what they had all been through the past few days, it felt wonderful to just relax and act like a normal 18 year old.
Buffy was part of an elite group of warriors called Slayers. Their number went back through history – teenage girls, pure of heart, who were chosen to hunt and kill the most cursed of creatures: vampires. Buffy had staked, spiked, burned, shot, beheaded, and otherwise destroyed her share of undead creatures in the three years she had been a Slayer. Most recently, her and her closest friends had survived the plot of Sunnydale’s mayor to become a demon and enslave the town. Surviving had almost cost Buffy her soul, and it had cost her her one true love: Angel. Angel was himself a vampire who had found his human side and let it overcome his killer tendencies. It was because of this that Buffy had fallen in love with him. It was because of his vampire heritage that he had finally left Sunnydale, as he realized that at some point, no matter how deep their love, Buffy and he would have to let the circle of Slayer and vampire complete itself.
For today, however, Buffy wanted to put all that behind her. Willow, sensing her friend’s dark mood over the past few weeks, had picked this beautiful day to treat Buffy to a girl’s day out. They tried on clothes and ogled guys and ate ice cream sundaes and just generally acted like giggly teenagers. Buffy had even opened up a bit about Angel, which to Willow was a good sign. She had smiled to herself over this, considering that she had cast just a tiny spell on Buffy to help her start to get over her anger. Willow was a powerful warrior in her own right; a wiccan, or nature witch. Her mastery of spells, potions, hexes, and curses was growing everyday and it had been a simple matter to put an Openness spell on Buffy. A little unfair, but she was out of ideas on how to get Buffy to talk.
As they headed for the exit, Willow looked up and made a groaning noise. Coming towards them was Cordelia Chase. Buffy echoed her groan. Despite the fact that Cordelia had been absorbed into their inner circle, it didn’t change the fact that she was stuck-up and vain. She had already announced her plans to head to LA after graduation, following Wesley, a Watcher who had arrived from England that year. Buffy, while having to admit that Cordelia had been of help during their battle with the Mayor, wouldn’t shed any tears over seeing her leave.
Cordelia approached them. She was, as usual, looking beautiful. She was a tall brunette with a wonderful figure. A set of perfect teeth, a long classical nose, and a pair of aqua green eyes completed the picture. It was little wonder most males lost their composure when she was around. Cordelia was wearing a strapless sundress and holding several bags from the tonier stores at the mall, in stark contrast to the Gap and Old Navy bags Willow and Buffy carried.
“Well, well, look who’s shopping! What’s wrong Buff? Run out of ninja uniforms?” She added, looking at Willow, “…and white robes?”
“Very funny. I don’t remember you making many jokes when I was saving your ass from Faith and the Mayor.”
Cordelia blushed, just for a minute. “Touche’, I suppose. Personally, I’m stocking up for my trip out to LA. God, I can’t wait to get the hell out of this one-horse…”
At this, they were interrupted by an “Excuse me?” from behind them. All three turned to see a girl about their age standing there. All three gasped. While Cordelia was beautiful, this girl was absolutely striking. She had long red hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her skin was flawless, perfect. Her green eyes were such a deep hue that they made Cordelia’s look like algae on top of a pond. She was dressed simply, in denim overalls and Birkenstock sandals. Buffy noticed in passing that her toenail polish was the same colour as her hair – a deep scarlet red. It was, after all, her job to notice things. Despite her seemingly harmless appearance, something was tickling at the back of Buffy’s mind…
“Excuse me?” she said again. “Do any of you know how to get to the food court?”
Cordelia sniffed. “I don’t eat in the food court.”
Willow was a little more helpful. “Go back down the escalator and turn right at Radio Shack. You can’t miss it. Just smell for the fried stuff.”
“Thanks. I’m dying for a mall burrito.”
The tickle in Buffy’s mind continued. She looked around, suddenly noticing that they were all alone. In a mall that until 2 minutes ago had been packed to the gills. She slowly began moving in front of the other two girls and moving her mind into combat mode.
The new girl looked at her. “You’re not even going to make this tough, are you?”
Buffy stopped her movements. “What? What did you say?”
The redhead sighed. “Really, I thought a Slayer would be more of a challenge. You are the Slayer, are you not?”
This was definitely most ungood. “Willow, Cordelia, get behind me.”
Red sighed again. “Please, spare me your attempts at controlling things.” She looked at Willow. “You, obviously, are the witch.” She turned her gaze to Cordelia. “And you, vain girl, are obviously Cordelia.”
By now, all three girls were wondering what the hell was going on. Buffy, however, had moved past her state of surprise and was moving towards this new girl with surprising speed and grace. Her plan was simply to knock out this girl until they figured out who she was and to go from there. As she moved her hand in a knife-edge strike towards the nerve cluster in the redhead’s neck, her quarry simply moved her hand. Time seemed to stop. Buffy and everything around her froze. Her eyes grew heavier. She fought the urge to sleep. She tore her gaze away from the redhead, who was now grinning wickedly, and observed Willow and Cordelia already asleep on the floor. Buffy slumped slowly to the cold tile floor, still struggling to stay awake. The redheaded girl stepped towards her and leaned over to whisper into Buffy’s ear. “We’re going to have lots of fun, little Slayer. You and your friends.” Just before she blacked out, Buffy had the distinct impression that her redheaded opponent had grown small, dainty horns…
Cordelia was the first one to wake up. She opened her eyes and found herself lying on a cool surface, but not unpleasantly cool. To her alarm, she was naked. She tried to sit up, as one naturally would, and found that she was restrained at the wrists, which were stretched above her head. She also felt a band of the same soft but strong material around her waist, and on trying to move her legs found the same stuff around her thighs and ankles. She began to get worried, and wonder what kind of creep had grabbed her now. She was no stranger to being kidnapped, at least not since getting mixed up with Buffy and her crew, but this was a little different.
“Yes, I agree. It is different.” With this, the table or whatever it was Cordy was lying on began to elevate so that her head and torso were slightly raised. Cordelia could finally see that she was in a goth’s fantasy room – black leather walls, torch sconces in the wall, stone floor. She could also now see that she was strapped to a table that appeared to be covered in the same black leather. At the foot of the table stood what appeared to be the same redhead as before, but she was drastically changed. Instead of wearing overalls, she was now dressed in a skintight red top, a black skirt of some flowy material, and thigh high black leather boots. She also now sported two small horns just visible above her flow of red hair. Despite herself, Cordy had to admire the girl’s style.
“Thanks. I try. And you can stop calling me ‘the redhead.’ My name is Janine. Or as close to it as a human tongue can pronounce.”
“You read my mind?”
“Not exactly. I can get the gist of your thoughts. Mind reading is only given to demons that are level 4 and above. I’m not quite there yet, but a girl can dream…”
Cordelia began to sweat. Her eyes wide, she asked, “What do you want?”
Janine turned around and disappeared into darkness. She emerged a minute later wheeling what appeared to be a large wheel covered in…Cordy strained her eyes…feathers? What the hell?
Janine wheeled the machine up to the foot of the table. She touched a hidden button and a section of the table dropped away, leaving Cordelia’s bare feet hanging in the air. She was finally able to wiggle them a bit and she did so.
“Oh, can’t have that.” Janine reached under the table and flipped up two stirrups that clamped around Cordelia’s shapely ankles. Her feet were now effectively immobilized.
“Mmm, what cute feet. Blue nail polish. Nicely shaped toes. This’ll be a pleasure” Without warning, Janine ran a scarlet nail up the sole of Cordelia’s foot. Without thinking, Cordy giggled. She kept her feet soft, smooth, and pampered, and she was very ticklish as a result. She attempted to keep this secret from everyone – she hated having a weakness.
Janine slowly wandered up the table, dragging a finger here and there up Cordelia’s naked body. “Wonderful. I bet the boys go nuts, don’t they?” She suddenly bent over and started to whisper into Cordelia’s ear. “Do you remember watching cartoons when you were a kid? Popeye? Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Bugs Bunny? Do you remember?”
Cordelia shook her head yes.
“Do you remember that sometimes on those cartoons that characters would get tickled with a feather? Especially on the feet?”
Suddenly Cordy knew what she was in for. She began to whimper. Not quite begging, but pretty damned close.
“Well, guess what? That really works. As you are shortly to find out.” Janine walked down to the other end of the table. Cordelia began to babble, “Listen, we can work something out. I never liked Buffy anyway. She made me do what I did.”
Janine whipped around. “You,” she pointed an accusing finger, “made my master very mad. It took him years to lay the plans to have that stupid Mayor go through the Ascension. And you and your little clan destroyed all of those plans. If you can, try to imagine a hurricane, a volcano, and a tornado all hitting your town at the same time. That’s pretty much what it was like down on my level of hell. Not fun. So, I’ve been sent to try to even the score. Which I’m happy to do.” She reached under the table again and Cordelia could her an audible ‘click.’
Suddenly, the wheel of feathers began to spin against Cordelia’s feet, slowly. She immediately began to laugh, unbelieving that she was going through this. She felt something pressed into her hand.
“This, my dear, is a small concession. You can control the speed of the wheel. You can either have it go fast, so each feather is against your soles for a shorter time, but more frequently, or you can slow it down and have each feather draaaaaag across your feet. Your choice.”
Cordelia was near tears. What kind of choice was that? She suddenly felt a different sensation, one much more pleasant. A gentle tingling was being felt under her hips. Despite her plight, it was somewhat stimulating. At the same time, the feathers moving against her soles were beginning to cause her much grief.
“Oh, yes, forgot about that. That’s another little twist. That tingling will vary in intensity with the speed of the wheel. The faster the wheel, the faster that you get to climax. No matter what, eventually a very primal part of your body will take over and want to reach that explosion. The fun part for me is that you have to live with the tickling on your feet to experience the pleasure.”
The tingling continued. Cordelia, who was by now laughing non stop as the feathers whipped across her sensitive soles, tried to shut off the part of her mind that was longing for the pleasure she was feeling in her loins. Janine, who could sense this inner battle, sat down in a leather chair to watch the show…
Ten minutes later, Cordelia was screaming, part in ecstasy, part in torment over the tickling. She had vainly struggled with the speed of the wheel. As soon as she slowed the wheel, she lost part of the pleasure that was building in her body. A few minutes in, Janine had thrown in yet another twist when she lowered two arms from the ceiling. These arms began moving with the same tempo as the wheel, stroking two fluffy feathers against Cordelia’s hard nipples and breasts. This had driven her over the edge and the added stimulation more or less forced Cordelia so shut off her rational mind and just let instinct take over. Janine had started to talk to her at the same time, whispering promises of pleasure that could never be found on earth. Janine could feel the massive explosion building in Cordelia, and added her own hands to the stroking on Cordelia’s breasts, enjoying the feel of the soft skin. Within a few minutes of this, Cordelia had climaxed, screaming, much to her delight, Janine’s name as she did so.
Cordelia blacked out at that point, and the machines automatically shut down. Janine smiled to herself in the dark. In a few minutes, the machines would start up again, and the torture would begin anew. It was time to attend to the next victim…
Willow opened her eyes and found herself in her room. More precisely, her room as it had been when she was a kid and on her bed. Posters for New Kids on the Block and Debbie Gibson adorned the walls, and, remarkably, Full House was playing on a small colour TV. “Good God, did I have NO taste back then,” Willow thought to herself. She too tried to sit up, and could not, despite the fact that she could see nothing actively holding her down. Nonetheless, it felt as if a weight was pressing against her chest and legs.
In a puff of red smoke, Janine appeared in Willow’s room. Willow jumped, as much as she could, back against the mattress.
“I’ll skip the introductions. I just had this conversation with the airhead in the other cell, and I…”
“That won’t be necessary, Janine, is it? You’re not the only one who can do some mind reading, you know.” Despite her steady tone, Willow was terrified. She had been in some tight spots with Buffy before, but this was like nothing either her observation of Buffy in combat or her own magic study had gotten her ready for.
“Hey, great. We can get right to business, then. I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re in your room, lying on your bed. Do you remember what used to happen in here that you hated?”
Willow thought. Homework. Calling boys for first dates. More homework. Her first computer – a C64. Getting ambushed by her sister and her friends….Oh Jesus, no!
“Oh, ‘you know who’ yes. Remember how you used to run into your room and jump from the door onto your bed because you never knew who would be waiting under the bed. Well, we’re going to live through that again. Or, you are anyway.”
With that, Willow could feel the pressure on her increase. Just like a group of girls was pinning her down. Then, the feeling she dreaded. A gentle tug on her left foot, what she knew was a shoelace being untied. The tugging increasing as her shoe was removed. Then the same with the right shoe. Willow tried vainly to scrunch up her long toes, to push her feet together, anything to avoid the inevitable. It was useless. The next sensation was of two fingers slowly, slowly, sliding up past her ankle, hooking into the top of her sock, and pulling down just as slowly. Willow could feel the cold air start at her lower calf, then her ankle, then her heel, then her sole, and finally her long toes. The same movements were repeated with the right sock until both her large, bare feet were exposed and defenseless. Willow steeled herself for the next horrible step, but even this could not prepare her for what she felt. It was tickly and scratchy and erotic all at the same time, and she yelped. The feeling was repeated on the other foot and she had the same reaction. It was worse than fingers, feathers, brushes, tongues, or any of the other things that Willow’s older sister and her friends had experimented with on Willow.
Janine held a cage over Willow’s head. Through her rapidly tearing eyes, Willow could see what appeared to be a cat covered in short, bristly hair. Janine lowered the cage towards Willow’s face, and what looked like a long pink strip of leather emerged from the side of the cage.
“This is called a mrem. It’s like a housepet for us, I suppose. They are in no way dangerous, but they have extraordinarily long tongues and they seem to love the taste of human skin. The salt, maybe. Currently there are two mrems working on your feet.” She paused for a moment as Willow continued to laugh uncontrollably. She was beginning to throw in some ‘Please stop’s and ‘No’s as well. “There are also two mrems poised in cages over your breasts. They will slowly lower over the next ten minutes. By that time, they will be ready to have a snack.”
Willow intensified her pleading. She couldn’t even imagine those rough tongues rubbing against her sensitive nipples. She had barely let any guy touch them, let alone some creature that would go crazy for the taste of her skin. At that point, however, one of the mrems snaked its tongue between two of her toes and the sensation filled her world.
For the next few minutes, Willow was in agony. The mrems began to explore the nooks and crannies of her feet, working their long tongues around her ankles, between her toes, and all along the arch of her feet. In spite of this, she also felt a strange sensation, a growing desire in her. It was most disconcerting. She was having a tough enough time focusing on resisting the tickling.
“Oh, I forgot to mention. Something in the glands of the mrem acts like an aphrodisiac to humans. Ironically, it will make you want the mrems to start licking you more than ever, which will only add to the tickling. Isn’t that a hoot?”
By this point Willow couldn’t even answer. The aphrodisiac was kicking in full force, making Willow began longing for the cages above her to drop more quickly. Her body was a rage of feelings – the torturous tickling on her feet, the growing desire in her belly, the tingling of her nipples and breasts…It all combined to turn her into a giggling, moaning, sweaty mass of flesh.
At long last the mrems suspended over her dropped the full distance and began to lick her now heaving breasts. It was both sweet release and more agony. The rough tongues of the creatures instantly hardened her nipples and they seemed to focus on these like small pink targets. She began to moan incessantly, aroused beyond belief by both the pleasure to her breasts and, remarkably, the tickling of her feet.
“Crazy, isn’t it? Tickling can actually act like sex for some people, under the right circumstances. You, Willow, are one of those people. “
Willow only half heard this. She began moan louder, now more turned on than she had ever been during any makeout session. A fire began building in her and she could feel that her lips and thighs were wet with her own juices. A mrem, seeming to sense this, snaked its tongue down her body and, finding her belly button, gently probed it with the tip of the tongue. With this, Willow screamed at this point, completely giving in to the incredible sensations that filled her body. She had her first real orgasm, an experience that shattered all her senses and spent her energy. Like Cordelia before her, she blacked out.
Janine smiled again. Two down. Now, for the main course…
Buffy woke up in a room full of diffuse red light. The walls were draped in billowy fabrics, all in different shades of red. She, like the others, tried to move around on the table (or whatever it was she was on) and found that she was restrained with her arms out to the sides, in the shape of a very attractive T. She craned her head to the side a bit and was able to see that her wrists were attached to the tabletop with shackles made out of some kind of glittery gold metal. She wiggled the rest of her pert but trim body and found that she was similarly strapped down at her elbows, shoulders, waist, knees, and ankles. The fact that she was also naked was of little concern to Buffy – she was very comfortable with her body, whether being used as a weapon or for more pleasurable pastimes. Her first priority was to focus both her mind and body and to this end she closed her eyes and began running through some simple mental exercises that Giles had taught her.
“Ah, the famous Slayer resolve.” Janine had wandered out from somewhere amongst the red fabrics and silently glided to Buffy’s side.
Buffy narrowed her eyes, recognizing her quarry. “Who the hell are you?”
“Does it really matter?”
“Well, it would be nice to know what name I should have them put on your tombstone.” Buffy’s eyes were two black gems as she said this.
Despite the fact that the Slayer was restrained, the demon shuddered inwardly. She ran her eyes over the many bonds that held the Slayer down, making sure that none were loose. Regardless of how helpless she may look, Janine knew that Buffy was still a most dangerous foe. Breaking her would be a pleasure.
“Time for a test, Slayer. Let’s see how well your Watcher trained you.” She moved to the other side of the table, trailing a finger over Buffy’s flat, muscular stomach as she did so. “Beautiful,” she breathed. “Absolutely perfect.” Janine leaned over the table, looking directly into Buffy’s eyes. “I am a Mirth Demon. Mean anything?”
Buffy racked her memory, struggling to remember any mention of this creature in her training. It didn’t take long. Giles had told her about the Mirth Demon one night in passing, more or less making a joke about their existence. Buffy had laughed with him. Now, strapped down and helpless in front of one of them, it didn’t seem so humorous. Buffy swallowed, ever so slightly, but Janine noticed. She was pleased that she had gotten a rise out of the Slayer.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would. Your friends have already found that out. They’re unharmed, but going through a little discomfort.” She reached out with her mind and found that both Willow and Cordelia were on the way to another orgasm brought on by the tickling. “But all things considered, I don’t think they’re complaining too much.”
Buffy had made up her mind. All she could do was try to resist what she knew was coming for as long as possible. She resumed her mental exercises.
“Hey, do what you have to do. For all the good it will do…” Janine let her eyes roam over the prone body of the Slayer. Where to start? Buffy wasn’t overly tall. Her body was well-muscled, toned and trimmed from countless hours of workouts and training. Her blond hair was about shoulder length (“I love blondes”, Janine thought,) and Buffy looked almost angelic with it fanned out on the table under her. “Kind of ironic, when you think about it,” mused Janine. Her skin was smooth and tanned, and Janine noted the usual tickle spots – armpits, behind the knees, tummy. Then, her favorite target, the feet. Buffy had small feet, with toes on the longer side. She was wearing pink toenail polish. “Nice touch. Love the pink toes, Buffy.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Buffy’s eyes remained closed. “Let’s do it. I’m tired of hearing you talk.”
“Anything to please.” Janine reached out with her fingers and started to trace, very lightly, Buffy’s ribs.
It started slowly. Buffy closed her eyes more tightly and furrowed her brows. Janine started to stroke more quickly and with more pressure. The Slayer scrunched up her face, trying vainly not to laugh. Janine grinned – the blonde was tough, no doubt. Time to up the ante. Janine started to slide her fingers down onto Buffy’s smooth stomach as she finished gliding across Buffy’s ribs. This finally produced a giggle. The demon took this as a positive sign and focused her attack on Buffy’s stomach, wiggling her fingertips across the skin. One giggle turned into several, and Janine dug in with her fingers. Peals of laughter escaped the Slayer, and Janine knew that her defenses were beginning to break down. She continued working on Buffy’s wonderfully flat tummy until she could feel the muscles underneath the skin tighten from exertion and the blonde girl was panting for breath. She let up and slid onto the table, straddling Buffy’s waist with her legs. The demon had to admit that she was enjoying this much more than just as a simple work assignment. Buffy’s laugh was wonderful, like music.
Buffy looked up at Janine. Her hair was beginning to stick to her face, slick with sweat and tears from crying. She was gasping to catch her breath. Her facial muscles ached from laughing for the last twenty minutes. Still, she was a Slayer. “Is that the best you’ve got?”
“Oh no, not by any means.” She reached forward and slid her fingertips into the hollows of Buffy’s smooth, soft armpits. “Let’s change things up a bit, shall we?” Janine concentrated, and the tips of her fingers became fuzzy with a soft fur. She didn’t fool around with preliminaries this time, but dug right in. Buffy immediately began to scream with laughter as Janine’s furry fingers relentlessly probed the curves of Buffy’s underarms. The Slayer thrashed around the table, struggling against her bonds. To solve this, Janine simply gestured with her hands and more restraints appeared, rendering Buffy almost immobile. The demon stopped again to let Buffy catch her breath, and concentrated again. To Buffy’s dismay, Janine suddenly sprouted two new arms, in the hands of which were two stiff red feathers.
The tortured began again. While Janine’s original arms continued their torment of Buffy’s underarms, the feather hands returned to Buffy’s stomach, relentlessly swiping the feathers across the skin there. This double sensation increased Buffy’s laughter into howls. Despite her fierce will, Janine also began to hear pleas to stop. The tickling carried on this way for some time, with Janine varying the speed and rhythm of her strokes so Buffy had no chance to get used to a pattern. The tickling finally reached a point where Buffy was laughing almost soundlessly; this happened after Janine had moved one of her hands from Buffy’s stomach up to her pert chest. The feather there slowly stroked across her perfect breasts and flicked across her nipples, adding a sensual element to the torture. After a few minutes of this, Buffy finally laughed herself into unconsciousness.
Janine prepared for her grand finale. Her plan was to completely break the Slayer; to have her give in to the demon completely before letting her go. The memory that she had done so would be worse than any physical damage Janine could inflict on her.
Janine set herself up at the foot of the table. She secured Buffy’s toes to the table with thin but strong strands of red leather so that she would not be able to move her feet at all. Janine had changed her appearance again, back to 4 hands. This time, each one held a feather. She started stroking two of the feathers across the soles of Buffy’s beautiful feet, while simultaneously sawing the other two between the Slayer’s toes. Buffy gave a groan as she came to. Almost immediately, she began to laugh. For the first time, she also began to beg.
“No, please, not my feet. It’s too much. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t take anymore tickling. You win.”
Janine stopped momentarily. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Still, I have to punish you for taking so long to admit it” She doubled her tickling of Buffy’s lovely feet, substituting the feathers across her soles for full feather dusters while the stiff single feathers continued their probing of the Slayer’s toes. Buffy lost all composure at this point. She howled with laughter, no longer trying to keep her composure. She was crying, sweating, struggling to escape. Janine had to admit to herself that she had not been so turned on by a human in eons.
“Buffy, you know what I want to hear. You know what will make me stop.”
In between gales of laughter, Buffy said “I can’t say it. I CAN’T!”
Janine simply repeated “You know what I want to hear.” This was it – the moment that would make or break this whole exercise.
Buffy was in agony. Her mind and body were a mess. She had been pushed past the brink of anything she had ever expected as a Slayer, both physically and mentally. Still, wasn’t a little corner of her mind rebelling against everything she stood for as a Slayer? Wasn’t part of her mind reveling in the feeling of being dominated, after so many years of dominating others? No matter what, she could not deny that arousal was growing within her; arousal at being constantly stimulated by this beautiful demon. Why shouldn’t she give in? Why fight anymore?
Buffy whispered something. Janine stopped. “What?” Buffy repeated, more loudly “I like it.”
“What? I still couldn’t hear you…” Janine wiggled the feathers ominously.
“I SAID, I LOVE IT! I love your hands on my body. I love the tickling. I want you to do more to me.” Buffy blushed, but met Janine’s gaze with a steady look.
Janine backed away from the foot of the table. Her body returned to normal. Slowly, she undressed, letting her clothing fall to the floor. Her heart was pounding. This wasn’t part of her original plan, but she now realized that she was just as far gone as the Slayer was. She moved to the head of the table, where Buffy still met her gaze. Janine gestured, and the bonds holding Buffy down vanished. Janine steeled herself for combat, in case it was a ruse by the Slayer. Buffy’s mind showed no sign of deception, but only the arousal that she had admitted to Janine.
Buffy slid off the table and faced the demon who had tortured her. She moved a step closer. She reached out, took the redhead’s hand, and moved it to her face. She gently caressed her own cheek with Janine’s hand. Janine decided to take a chance, to probe a bit. “Does that tickle?”
Buffy flinched noticeably at the word, but held on to Janine’s hand nonetheless. “No, does this?” Buffy closed the gap between her and the demon, locked her arms around Janine’s neck, and moved her lips to the demon’s. Janine, shocked, returned the kiss and embrace. The redheaded demon gestured, and the two were transported to a large, soft bed. They sank down onto the bed, red hair tangling with blond, and lost themselves in each other.
Epilogue – Two months later
Buffy returned home from her first day of classes to her new dorm room. “I’m home. ‘Nine? I’m home.” A tall, striking redhead came from around the corner. “Hey, how were your classes?”
“Good.” Buffy threw her backpack down, moved to the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water. “You up for patrol tonight?”
“Definitely. I’ve been hearing rumors about some kind of military types roaming around campus at night. Sounds interesting.”
“10-4.” Buffy studied her roommate, this statuesque redhead who had so strangely come into her life. Neither of them had ever told anyone about the experience they shared and Janine had wiped Cordelia’s and Willow’s memories of the experience. Amazingly enough, while Janine had touched a dark chord in Buffy’s mind that night, she had also brought forth long-buried goodness in the demon. Janine had defected from the forces of Hell and decided to start making up for the damage she had caused over the centuries.
“I’m gonna grab a nap Buff. Wake me up when you want to go out.”
“Will do.” Janine turned to leave. “Oh, hey, wait a minute. I might have some need for your, umm, special talents soon.”
The demon turned. “Really.” Despite herself, her heart began to race a bit. “How so?”
Buffy smiled. “Let me tell you about Faith.”
THE END
My first real effort at a tickling story, retyped from one I lost about 3 years ago. I would love some feedback!
This story fits into Buffy mythology in the summer after the gang finishes high school. All characters are 18. All of the characters are trademarked by Warner Brothers and/or Paramount.
Enjoy!
Buffy and Willow slowly strolled down the main hallway of the Galleria, Sunnydale’s biggest mall. The sun was shining through the large picture windows spaced around the mall, bathing the two girls in bright light. Buffy stopped in one large sunbeam, tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and let the sun warm her face. After what they had all been through the past few days, it felt wonderful to just relax and act like a normal 18 year old.
Buffy was part of an elite group of warriors called Slayers. Their number went back through history – teenage girls, pure of heart, who were chosen to hunt and kill the most cursed of creatures: vampires. Buffy had staked, spiked, burned, shot, beheaded, and otherwise destroyed her share of undead creatures in the three years she had been a Slayer. Most recently, her and her closest friends had survived the plot of Sunnydale’s mayor to become a demon and enslave the town. Surviving had almost cost Buffy her soul, and it had cost her her one true love: Angel. Angel was himself a vampire who had found his human side and let it overcome his killer tendencies. It was because of this that Buffy had fallen in love with him. It was because of his vampire heritage that he had finally left Sunnydale, as he realized that at some point, no matter how deep their love, Buffy and he would have to let the circle of Slayer and vampire complete itself.
For today, however, Buffy wanted to put all that behind her. Willow, sensing her friend’s dark mood over the past few weeks, had picked this beautiful day to treat Buffy to a girl’s day out. They tried on clothes and ogled guys and ate ice cream sundaes and just generally acted like giggly teenagers. Buffy had even opened up a bit about Angel, which to Willow was a good sign. She had smiled to herself over this, considering that she had cast just a tiny spell on Buffy to help her start to get over her anger. Willow was a powerful warrior in her own right; a wiccan, or nature witch. Her mastery of spells, potions, hexes, and curses was growing everyday and it had been a simple matter to put an Openness spell on Buffy. A little unfair, but she was out of ideas on how to get Buffy to talk.
As they headed for the exit, Willow looked up and made a groaning noise. Coming towards them was Cordelia Chase. Buffy echoed her groan. Despite the fact that Cordelia had been absorbed into their inner circle, it didn’t change the fact that she was stuck-up and vain. She had already announced her plans to head to LA after graduation, following Wesley, a Watcher who had arrived from England that year. Buffy, while having to admit that Cordelia had been of help during their battle with the Mayor, wouldn’t shed any tears over seeing her leave.
Cordelia approached them. She was, as usual, looking beautiful. She was a tall brunette with a wonderful figure. A set of perfect teeth, a long classical nose, and a pair of aqua green eyes completed the picture. It was little wonder most males lost their composure when she was around. Cordelia was wearing a strapless sundress and holding several bags from the tonier stores at the mall, in stark contrast to the Gap and Old Navy bags Willow and Buffy carried.
“Well, well, look who’s shopping! What’s wrong Buff? Run out of ninja uniforms?” She added, looking at Willow, “…and white robes?”
“Very funny. I don’t remember you making many jokes when I was saving your ass from Faith and the Mayor.”
Cordelia blushed, just for a minute. “Touche’, I suppose. Personally, I’m stocking up for my trip out to LA. God, I can’t wait to get the hell out of this one-horse…”
At this, they were interrupted by an “Excuse me?” from behind them. All three turned to see a girl about their age standing there. All three gasped. While Cordelia was beautiful, this girl was absolutely striking. She had long red hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her skin was flawless, perfect. Her green eyes were such a deep hue that they made Cordelia’s look like algae on top of a pond. She was dressed simply, in denim overalls and Birkenstock sandals. Buffy noticed in passing that her toenail polish was the same colour as her hair – a deep scarlet red. It was, after all, her job to notice things. Despite her seemingly harmless appearance, something was tickling at the back of Buffy’s mind…
“Excuse me?” she said again. “Do any of you know how to get to the food court?”
Cordelia sniffed. “I don’t eat in the food court.”
Willow was a little more helpful. “Go back down the escalator and turn right at Radio Shack. You can’t miss it. Just smell for the fried stuff.”
“Thanks. I’m dying for a mall burrito.”
The tickle in Buffy’s mind continued. She looked around, suddenly noticing that they were all alone. In a mall that until 2 minutes ago had been packed to the gills. She slowly began moving in front of the other two girls and moving her mind into combat mode.
The new girl looked at her. “You’re not even going to make this tough, are you?”
Buffy stopped her movements. “What? What did you say?”
The redhead sighed. “Really, I thought a Slayer would be more of a challenge. You are the Slayer, are you not?”
This was definitely most ungood. “Willow, Cordelia, get behind me.”
Red sighed again. “Please, spare me your attempts at controlling things.” She looked at Willow. “You, obviously, are the witch.” She turned her gaze to Cordelia. “And you, vain girl, are obviously Cordelia.”
By now, all three girls were wondering what the hell was going on. Buffy, however, had moved past her state of surprise and was moving towards this new girl with surprising speed and grace. Her plan was simply to knock out this girl until they figured out who she was and to go from there. As she moved her hand in a knife-edge strike towards the nerve cluster in the redhead’s neck, her quarry simply moved her hand. Time seemed to stop. Buffy and everything around her froze. Her eyes grew heavier. She fought the urge to sleep. She tore her gaze away from the redhead, who was now grinning wickedly, and observed Willow and Cordelia already asleep on the floor. Buffy slumped slowly to the cold tile floor, still struggling to stay awake. The redheaded girl stepped towards her and leaned over to whisper into Buffy’s ear. “We’re going to have lots of fun, little Slayer. You and your friends.” Just before she blacked out, Buffy had the distinct impression that her redheaded opponent had grown small, dainty horns…
Cordelia was the first one to wake up. She opened her eyes and found herself lying on a cool surface, but not unpleasantly cool. To her alarm, she was naked. She tried to sit up, as one naturally would, and found that she was restrained at the wrists, which were stretched above her head. She also felt a band of the same soft but strong material around her waist, and on trying to move her legs found the same stuff around her thighs and ankles. She began to get worried, and wonder what kind of creep had grabbed her now. She was no stranger to being kidnapped, at least not since getting mixed up with Buffy and her crew, but this was a little different.
“Yes, I agree. It is different.” With this, the table or whatever it was Cordy was lying on began to elevate so that her head and torso were slightly raised. Cordelia could finally see that she was in a goth’s fantasy room – black leather walls, torch sconces in the wall, stone floor. She could also now see that she was strapped to a table that appeared to be covered in the same black leather. At the foot of the table stood what appeared to be the same redhead as before, but she was drastically changed. Instead of wearing overalls, she was now dressed in a skintight red top, a black skirt of some flowy material, and thigh high black leather boots. She also now sported two small horns just visible above her flow of red hair. Despite herself, Cordy had to admire the girl’s style.
“Thanks. I try. And you can stop calling me ‘the redhead.’ My name is Janine. Or as close to it as a human tongue can pronounce.”
“You read my mind?”
“Not exactly. I can get the gist of your thoughts. Mind reading is only given to demons that are level 4 and above. I’m not quite there yet, but a girl can dream…”
Cordelia began to sweat. Her eyes wide, she asked, “What do you want?”
Janine turned around and disappeared into darkness. She emerged a minute later wheeling what appeared to be a large wheel covered in…Cordy strained her eyes…feathers? What the hell?
Janine wheeled the machine up to the foot of the table. She touched a hidden button and a section of the table dropped away, leaving Cordelia’s bare feet hanging in the air. She was finally able to wiggle them a bit and she did so.
“Oh, can’t have that.” Janine reached under the table and flipped up two stirrups that clamped around Cordelia’s shapely ankles. Her feet were now effectively immobilized.
“Mmm, what cute feet. Blue nail polish. Nicely shaped toes. This’ll be a pleasure” Without warning, Janine ran a scarlet nail up the sole of Cordelia’s foot. Without thinking, Cordy giggled. She kept her feet soft, smooth, and pampered, and she was very ticklish as a result. She attempted to keep this secret from everyone – she hated having a weakness.
Janine slowly wandered up the table, dragging a finger here and there up Cordelia’s naked body. “Wonderful. I bet the boys go nuts, don’t they?” She suddenly bent over and started to whisper into Cordelia’s ear. “Do you remember watching cartoons when you were a kid? Popeye? Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Bugs Bunny? Do you remember?”
Cordelia shook her head yes.
“Do you remember that sometimes on those cartoons that characters would get tickled with a feather? Especially on the feet?”
Suddenly Cordy knew what she was in for. She began to whimper. Not quite begging, but pretty damned close.
“Well, guess what? That really works. As you are shortly to find out.” Janine walked down to the other end of the table. Cordelia began to babble, “Listen, we can work something out. I never liked Buffy anyway. She made me do what I did.”
Janine whipped around. “You,” she pointed an accusing finger, “made my master very mad. It took him years to lay the plans to have that stupid Mayor go through the Ascension. And you and your little clan destroyed all of those plans. If you can, try to imagine a hurricane, a volcano, and a tornado all hitting your town at the same time. That’s pretty much what it was like down on my level of hell. Not fun. So, I’ve been sent to try to even the score. Which I’m happy to do.” She reached under the table again and Cordelia could her an audible ‘click.’
Suddenly, the wheel of feathers began to spin against Cordelia’s feet, slowly. She immediately began to laugh, unbelieving that she was going through this. She felt something pressed into her hand.
“This, my dear, is a small concession. You can control the speed of the wheel. You can either have it go fast, so each feather is against your soles for a shorter time, but more frequently, or you can slow it down and have each feather draaaaaag across your feet. Your choice.”
Cordelia was near tears. What kind of choice was that? She suddenly felt a different sensation, one much more pleasant. A gentle tingling was being felt under her hips. Despite her plight, it was somewhat stimulating. At the same time, the feathers moving against her soles were beginning to cause her much grief.
“Oh, yes, forgot about that. That’s another little twist. That tingling will vary in intensity with the speed of the wheel. The faster the wheel, the faster that you get to climax. No matter what, eventually a very primal part of your body will take over and want to reach that explosion. The fun part for me is that you have to live with the tickling on your feet to experience the pleasure.”
The tingling continued. Cordelia, who was by now laughing non stop as the feathers whipped across her sensitive soles, tried to shut off the part of her mind that was longing for the pleasure she was feeling in her loins. Janine, who could sense this inner battle, sat down in a leather chair to watch the show…
Ten minutes later, Cordelia was screaming, part in ecstasy, part in torment over the tickling. She had vainly struggled with the speed of the wheel. As soon as she slowed the wheel, she lost part of the pleasure that was building in her body. A few minutes in, Janine had thrown in yet another twist when she lowered two arms from the ceiling. These arms began moving with the same tempo as the wheel, stroking two fluffy feathers against Cordelia’s hard nipples and breasts. This had driven her over the edge and the added stimulation more or less forced Cordelia so shut off her rational mind and just let instinct take over. Janine had started to talk to her at the same time, whispering promises of pleasure that could never be found on earth. Janine could feel the massive explosion building in Cordelia, and added her own hands to the stroking on Cordelia’s breasts, enjoying the feel of the soft skin. Within a few minutes of this, Cordelia had climaxed, screaming, much to her delight, Janine’s name as she did so.
Cordelia blacked out at that point, and the machines automatically shut down. Janine smiled to herself in the dark. In a few minutes, the machines would start up again, and the torture would begin anew. It was time to attend to the next victim…
Willow opened her eyes and found herself in her room. More precisely, her room as it had been when she was a kid and on her bed. Posters for New Kids on the Block and Debbie Gibson adorned the walls, and, remarkably, Full House was playing on a small colour TV. “Good God, did I have NO taste back then,” Willow thought to herself. She too tried to sit up, and could not, despite the fact that she could see nothing actively holding her down. Nonetheless, it felt as if a weight was pressing against her chest and legs.
In a puff of red smoke, Janine appeared in Willow’s room. Willow jumped, as much as she could, back against the mattress.
“I’ll skip the introductions. I just had this conversation with the airhead in the other cell, and I…”
“That won’t be necessary, Janine, is it? You’re not the only one who can do some mind reading, you know.” Despite her steady tone, Willow was terrified. She had been in some tight spots with Buffy before, but this was like nothing either her observation of Buffy in combat or her own magic study had gotten her ready for.
“Hey, great. We can get right to business, then. I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re in your room, lying on your bed. Do you remember what used to happen in here that you hated?”
Willow thought. Homework. Calling boys for first dates. More homework. Her first computer – a C64. Getting ambushed by her sister and her friends….Oh Jesus, no!
“Oh, ‘you know who’ yes. Remember how you used to run into your room and jump from the door onto your bed because you never knew who would be waiting under the bed. Well, we’re going to live through that again. Or, you are anyway.”
With that, Willow could feel the pressure on her increase. Just like a group of girls was pinning her down. Then, the feeling she dreaded. A gentle tug on her left foot, what she knew was a shoelace being untied. The tugging increasing as her shoe was removed. Then the same with the right shoe. Willow tried vainly to scrunch up her long toes, to push her feet together, anything to avoid the inevitable. It was useless. The next sensation was of two fingers slowly, slowly, sliding up past her ankle, hooking into the top of her sock, and pulling down just as slowly. Willow could feel the cold air start at her lower calf, then her ankle, then her heel, then her sole, and finally her long toes. The same movements were repeated with the right sock until both her large, bare feet were exposed and defenseless. Willow steeled herself for the next horrible step, but even this could not prepare her for what she felt. It was tickly and scratchy and erotic all at the same time, and she yelped. The feeling was repeated on the other foot and she had the same reaction. It was worse than fingers, feathers, brushes, tongues, or any of the other things that Willow’s older sister and her friends had experimented with on Willow.
Janine held a cage over Willow’s head. Through her rapidly tearing eyes, Willow could see what appeared to be a cat covered in short, bristly hair. Janine lowered the cage towards Willow’s face, and what looked like a long pink strip of leather emerged from the side of the cage.
“This is called a mrem. It’s like a housepet for us, I suppose. They are in no way dangerous, but they have extraordinarily long tongues and they seem to love the taste of human skin. The salt, maybe. Currently there are two mrems working on your feet.” She paused for a moment as Willow continued to laugh uncontrollably. She was beginning to throw in some ‘Please stop’s and ‘No’s as well. “There are also two mrems poised in cages over your breasts. They will slowly lower over the next ten minutes. By that time, they will be ready to have a snack.”
Willow intensified her pleading. She couldn’t even imagine those rough tongues rubbing against her sensitive nipples. She had barely let any guy touch them, let alone some creature that would go crazy for the taste of her skin. At that point, however, one of the mrems snaked its tongue between two of her toes and the sensation filled her world.
For the next few minutes, Willow was in agony. The mrems began to explore the nooks and crannies of her feet, working their long tongues around her ankles, between her toes, and all along the arch of her feet. In spite of this, she also felt a strange sensation, a growing desire in her. It was most disconcerting. She was having a tough enough time focusing on resisting the tickling.
“Oh, I forgot to mention. Something in the glands of the mrem acts like an aphrodisiac to humans. Ironically, it will make you want the mrems to start licking you more than ever, which will only add to the tickling. Isn’t that a hoot?”
By this point Willow couldn’t even answer. The aphrodisiac was kicking in full force, making Willow began longing for the cages above her to drop more quickly. Her body was a rage of feelings – the torturous tickling on her feet, the growing desire in her belly, the tingling of her nipples and breasts…It all combined to turn her into a giggling, moaning, sweaty mass of flesh.
At long last the mrems suspended over her dropped the full distance and began to lick her now heaving breasts. It was both sweet release and more agony. The rough tongues of the creatures instantly hardened her nipples and they seemed to focus on these like small pink targets. She began to moan incessantly, aroused beyond belief by both the pleasure to her breasts and, remarkably, the tickling of her feet.
“Crazy, isn’t it? Tickling can actually act like sex for some people, under the right circumstances. You, Willow, are one of those people. “
Willow only half heard this. She began moan louder, now more turned on than she had ever been during any makeout session. A fire began building in her and she could feel that her lips and thighs were wet with her own juices. A mrem, seeming to sense this, snaked its tongue down her body and, finding her belly button, gently probed it with the tip of the tongue. With this, Willow screamed at this point, completely giving in to the incredible sensations that filled her body. She had her first real orgasm, an experience that shattered all her senses and spent her energy. Like Cordelia before her, she blacked out.
Janine smiled again. Two down. Now, for the main course…
Buffy woke up in a room full of diffuse red light. The walls were draped in billowy fabrics, all in different shades of red. She, like the others, tried to move around on the table (or whatever it was she was on) and found that she was restrained with her arms out to the sides, in the shape of a very attractive T. She craned her head to the side a bit and was able to see that her wrists were attached to the tabletop with shackles made out of some kind of glittery gold metal. She wiggled the rest of her pert but trim body and found that she was similarly strapped down at her elbows, shoulders, waist, knees, and ankles. The fact that she was also naked was of little concern to Buffy – she was very comfortable with her body, whether being used as a weapon or for more pleasurable pastimes. Her first priority was to focus both her mind and body and to this end she closed her eyes and began running through some simple mental exercises that Giles had taught her.
“Ah, the famous Slayer resolve.” Janine had wandered out from somewhere amongst the red fabrics and silently glided to Buffy’s side.
Buffy narrowed her eyes, recognizing her quarry. “Who the hell are you?”
“Does it really matter?”
“Well, it would be nice to know what name I should have them put on your tombstone.” Buffy’s eyes were two black gems as she said this.
Despite the fact that the Slayer was restrained, the demon shuddered inwardly. She ran her eyes over the many bonds that held the Slayer down, making sure that none were loose. Regardless of how helpless she may look, Janine knew that Buffy was still a most dangerous foe. Breaking her would be a pleasure.
“Time for a test, Slayer. Let’s see how well your Watcher trained you.” She moved to the other side of the table, trailing a finger over Buffy’s flat, muscular stomach as she did so. “Beautiful,” she breathed. “Absolutely perfect.” Janine leaned over the table, looking directly into Buffy’s eyes. “I am a Mirth Demon. Mean anything?”
Buffy racked her memory, struggling to remember any mention of this creature in her training. It didn’t take long. Giles had told her about the Mirth Demon one night in passing, more or less making a joke about their existence. Buffy had laughed with him. Now, strapped down and helpless in front of one of them, it didn’t seem so humorous. Buffy swallowed, ever so slightly, but Janine noticed. She was pleased that she had gotten a rise out of the Slayer.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would. Your friends have already found that out. They’re unharmed, but going through a little discomfort.” She reached out with her mind and found that both Willow and Cordelia were on the way to another orgasm brought on by the tickling. “But all things considered, I don’t think they’re complaining too much.”
Buffy had made up her mind. All she could do was try to resist what she knew was coming for as long as possible. She resumed her mental exercises.
“Hey, do what you have to do. For all the good it will do…” Janine let her eyes roam over the prone body of the Slayer. Where to start? Buffy wasn’t overly tall. Her body was well-muscled, toned and trimmed from countless hours of workouts and training. Her blond hair was about shoulder length (“I love blondes”, Janine thought,) and Buffy looked almost angelic with it fanned out on the table under her. “Kind of ironic, when you think about it,” mused Janine. Her skin was smooth and tanned, and Janine noted the usual tickle spots – armpits, behind the knees, tummy. Then, her favorite target, the feet. Buffy had small feet, with toes on the longer side. She was wearing pink toenail polish. “Nice touch. Love the pink toes, Buffy.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Buffy’s eyes remained closed. “Let’s do it. I’m tired of hearing you talk.”
“Anything to please.” Janine reached out with her fingers and started to trace, very lightly, Buffy’s ribs.
It started slowly. Buffy closed her eyes more tightly and furrowed her brows. Janine started to stroke more quickly and with more pressure. The Slayer scrunched up her face, trying vainly not to laugh. Janine grinned – the blonde was tough, no doubt. Time to up the ante. Janine started to slide her fingers down onto Buffy’s smooth stomach as she finished gliding across Buffy’s ribs. This finally produced a giggle. The demon took this as a positive sign and focused her attack on Buffy’s stomach, wiggling her fingertips across the skin. One giggle turned into several, and Janine dug in with her fingers. Peals of laughter escaped the Slayer, and Janine knew that her defenses were beginning to break down. She continued working on Buffy’s wonderfully flat tummy until she could feel the muscles underneath the skin tighten from exertion and the blonde girl was panting for breath. She let up and slid onto the table, straddling Buffy’s waist with her legs. The demon had to admit that she was enjoying this much more than just as a simple work assignment. Buffy’s laugh was wonderful, like music.
Buffy looked up at Janine. Her hair was beginning to stick to her face, slick with sweat and tears from crying. She was gasping to catch her breath. Her facial muscles ached from laughing for the last twenty minutes. Still, she was a Slayer. “Is that the best you’ve got?”
“Oh no, not by any means.” She reached forward and slid her fingertips into the hollows of Buffy’s smooth, soft armpits. “Let’s change things up a bit, shall we?” Janine concentrated, and the tips of her fingers became fuzzy with a soft fur. She didn’t fool around with preliminaries this time, but dug right in. Buffy immediately began to scream with laughter as Janine’s furry fingers relentlessly probed the curves of Buffy’s underarms. The Slayer thrashed around the table, struggling against her bonds. To solve this, Janine simply gestured with her hands and more restraints appeared, rendering Buffy almost immobile. The demon stopped again to let Buffy catch her breath, and concentrated again. To Buffy’s dismay, Janine suddenly sprouted two new arms, in the hands of which were two stiff red feathers.
The tortured began again. While Janine’s original arms continued their torment of Buffy’s underarms, the feather hands returned to Buffy’s stomach, relentlessly swiping the feathers across the skin there. This double sensation increased Buffy’s laughter into howls. Despite her fierce will, Janine also began to hear pleas to stop. The tickling carried on this way for some time, with Janine varying the speed and rhythm of her strokes so Buffy had no chance to get used to a pattern. The tickling finally reached a point where Buffy was laughing almost soundlessly; this happened after Janine had moved one of her hands from Buffy’s stomach up to her pert chest. The feather there slowly stroked across her perfect breasts and flicked across her nipples, adding a sensual element to the torture. After a few minutes of this, Buffy finally laughed herself into unconsciousness.
Janine prepared for her grand finale. Her plan was to completely break the Slayer; to have her give in to the demon completely before letting her go. The memory that she had done so would be worse than any physical damage Janine could inflict on her.
Janine set herself up at the foot of the table. She secured Buffy’s toes to the table with thin but strong strands of red leather so that she would not be able to move her feet at all. Janine had changed her appearance again, back to 4 hands. This time, each one held a feather. She started stroking two of the feathers across the soles of Buffy’s beautiful feet, while simultaneously sawing the other two between the Slayer’s toes. Buffy gave a groan as she came to. Almost immediately, she began to laugh. For the first time, she also began to beg.
“No, please, not my feet. It’s too much. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t take anymore tickling. You win.”
Janine stopped momentarily. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Still, I have to punish you for taking so long to admit it” She doubled her tickling of Buffy’s lovely feet, substituting the feathers across her soles for full feather dusters while the stiff single feathers continued their probing of the Slayer’s toes. Buffy lost all composure at this point. She howled with laughter, no longer trying to keep her composure. She was crying, sweating, struggling to escape. Janine had to admit to herself that she had not been so turned on by a human in eons.
“Buffy, you know what I want to hear. You know what will make me stop.”
In between gales of laughter, Buffy said “I can’t say it. I CAN’T!”
Janine simply repeated “You know what I want to hear.” This was it – the moment that would make or break this whole exercise.
Buffy was in agony. Her mind and body were a mess. She had been pushed past the brink of anything she had ever expected as a Slayer, both physically and mentally. Still, wasn’t a little corner of her mind rebelling against everything she stood for as a Slayer? Wasn’t part of her mind reveling in the feeling of being dominated, after so many years of dominating others? No matter what, she could not deny that arousal was growing within her; arousal at being constantly stimulated by this beautiful demon. Why shouldn’t she give in? Why fight anymore?
Buffy whispered something. Janine stopped. “What?” Buffy repeated, more loudly “I like it.”
“What? I still couldn’t hear you…” Janine wiggled the feathers ominously.
“I SAID, I LOVE IT! I love your hands on my body. I love the tickling. I want you to do more to me.” Buffy blushed, but met Janine’s gaze with a steady look.
Janine backed away from the foot of the table. Her body returned to normal. Slowly, she undressed, letting her clothing fall to the floor. Her heart was pounding. This wasn’t part of her original plan, but she now realized that she was just as far gone as the Slayer was. She moved to the head of the table, where Buffy still met her gaze. Janine gestured, and the bonds holding Buffy down vanished. Janine steeled herself for combat, in case it was a ruse by the Slayer. Buffy’s mind showed no sign of deception, but only the arousal that she had admitted to Janine.
Buffy slid off the table and faced the demon who had tortured her. She moved a step closer. She reached out, took the redhead’s hand, and moved it to her face. She gently caressed her own cheek with Janine’s hand. Janine decided to take a chance, to probe a bit. “Does that tickle?”
Buffy flinched noticeably at the word, but held on to Janine’s hand nonetheless. “No, does this?” Buffy closed the gap between her and the demon, locked her arms around Janine’s neck, and moved her lips to the demon’s. Janine, shocked, returned the kiss and embrace. The redheaded demon gestured, and the two were transported to a large, soft bed. They sank down onto the bed, red hair tangling with blond, and lost themselves in each other.
Epilogue – Two months later
Buffy returned home from her first day of classes to her new dorm room. “I’m home. ‘Nine? I’m home.” A tall, striking redhead came from around the corner. “Hey, how were your classes?”
“Good.” Buffy threw her backpack down, moved to the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water. “You up for patrol tonight?”
“Definitely. I’ve been hearing rumors about some kind of military types roaming around campus at night. Sounds interesting.”
“10-4.” Buffy studied her roommate, this statuesque redhead who had so strangely come into her life. Neither of them had ever told anyone about the experience they shared and Janine had wiped Cordelia’s and Willow’s memories of the experience. Amazingly enough, while Janine had touched a dark chord in Buffy’s mind that night, she had also brought forth long-buried goodness in the demon. Janine had defected from the forces of Hell and decided to start making up for the damage she had caused over the centuries.
“I’m gonna grab a nap Buff. Wake me up when you want to go out.”
“Will do.” Janine turned to leave. “Oh, hey, wait a minute. I might have some need for your, umm, special talents soon.”
The demon turned. “Really.” Despite herself, her heart began to race a bit. “How so?”
Buffy smiled. “Let me tell you about Faith.”
THE END
