Mastertank1
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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Captive Of The Witchfinder General
By Mastertank1
This story was inspired by and written for Ticklish Lurker of the TMF, The character of Jami the Spellsinger is based upon her. The character of Simon The Younger is modeled on an idealized version of me, and was inspired by an acyual Witchfinder General of late medieval England.
After hundreds of years of relentless persecution by the priests and friars of the new religion, now taken up by the church’s latest tools, the witchfinders, there were few practitioners of the old religion left. The new religion referred to the followers of the old as witches, warlocks and wizards.
Jami would have been a rare practitioner even in the days when the old religion ruled the land unchallenged. Jami was a spellsinger; a person who could invoke the ancient powers by the purity and clarity of her voice raised in song.
Where most of the other invokers of power needed elaborate apparatus, and frequently had to use hard to find substances, Jami could accomplish great things using only herself and her voice. When she received the desperate plea for help, she went at once.
A priest of the new religion, dabbling in black magic, had conjured a malevolent spirit of fire, and had failed to control it. The spirit had destroyed the fool who allowed it to enter the mortal world, and now wandered free. The spirit wrought havoc wherever it went, because such was its nature.
When Jami heard the plea of the peasant communities in the path of the evil spirit, she felt that she had to respond. She knew it would expose her to two kinds of danger. First, the spirit itself might harm her if it were clever or if she was not careful enough. Second, the superstitious followers of the new religion might call the witchfinders on her, even though she would be there to save them.
Despite the dual dangers, Jami felt that she had no choice. She was the nearest one with the power to deal with the problem. To her sense of duty, that meant that she must answer the call.
Jami arrived in the next village in the spirit’s path. While she was conferring with the village leaders, no one noticed an ill favored, sour countenanced individual slipping away from the meeting. He was exactly the kind of unpopular chronic malcontent who saw the new religion, with its encouragement of holier-than-thou self righteousness, as a weapon to wield against his neighbors.
Accompanied only by the village’s Reeve and chief huntsman, Jami went into the surrounding forest to confront the uncontrolled fire spirit. Her magical senses told her where it was, and she placed herself in between it and the village.
When the creature drew near, Jami disrobed. The spell she intended to sing, as all the most powerful spells, required that the caster be skyclad. The invoker of the powers must wear nothing more than the torque around their neck, so that the Goddesses and Gods would see that they were being addressed by a free person, not by a slave or a serf.
Jami took her stand in a long clearing. The spirit appeared at the opposite end.
On top of low knoll of earth, Jami stood proudly naked before the Goddess, magnificent in her fully fleshed femininity. If anyone watching had a classical education, they would have compared her to the images of ancient fertility Goddesses like Cybelle or the Magna Mater. Jami inhaled a deep breath, and she sang.
The notes rang out, true, high and clear. At first they were just vocal music, but then she began to sing words. They were words in the old Celtic language, the language of Druids and Bards out of time immemorial.
She pronounced every syllable of the intricate words to perfection, and sang each note truly. Jami could feel the Earth power gathering in response to her song.
She had a spot on her right foot, covering most of the arch, where the Earth power entered her body when she invoked it. Jami could feel that spot starting to tingle now, then she could feel the flow begin.
After a few minutes, Jami was filled with the Earth power, glowing through every pore. The Earth power gleamed in her strawberry blonde hair and shone through her hazel eyes. Soon every inch of her lightly tanned skin was glowing with it.
She was magnificent, nothing less. The 5’3” woman loomed like the avatar of the Goddess that she had become, fearlessly confronting the huge fire spirit.
For it’s part, the spirit of Fire detected a growing presence of its most deadly antagonist, Earth. It attempted to move straight at Jami, but the song held it back like a powerful wind, then firmed up like an invisible wall.
Angry, the fire spirit tried to outflank that wall. It tried to the right, then to the left. It rose up and tried to stoop down from above. Whatever maneuver the ill spirit attempted, Jami turned to confront it and stop it.
While he was trying to outflank Jami, the spirit himself had been outflanked by her. The wall of force generated by her song had enclosed the spirit, becoming a sphere with the spirit inside.
As a part of her magical training, Jami had taken unbreakable oaths, held by the Goddess, not to use magic to harm any living thing. This applied even to malevolent spirits like her current opponent. Jami did not plan to kill it.
Instead, she would force the personification of flame to go back to the lower plane it had been summoned from. In order to do this, she now changed her song, and sphere of power Jami had generated started contracting.
The process was long, slow, and difficult. The fire spirit kept on attacking the sphere. It was trying to find a way out, but there was none.
The sphere kept on shrinking and shrinking. The squeeze became more and more painful for the supernatural creature. It screamed, and it cursed in its own foul, unnatural language, and finally gave up. It opened a gateway within the ever contracting sphere and then fled to it’s home.
With a resounding POP it was gone. Jami ended her song by releasing the power and thanking the Earth goddess. She felt the gathered force flow out of her. Finally finished, she slumped in exhaustion, and that’s when the witchfinders pounced.
Before she had time to react, they had stuffed a wadded cloth into her mouth and then tied it in place with a strip of fabric. They covered her head in a sack, and they rolled her entire body up in great swath of sacking material. Three of them lifted her up on their shoulders and carried her to a waiting cart, where they dumped her.
As the cart rolled away, the informant, he of the sour countenance, approached the leader of the witchfinders. He received a small sum of money.
As the witchfinders departed with their catch, the Reeve and the chief huntsman exchanged a few quiet words while glaring at the oblivious traitor. The next time the villagers went on a hunt for food, the traitor would be the unfortunate victim of the accidental discharge of an arrow from somebody’s bow.
Lord Simon De Montfort The Younger, Earl of Plymouth and Witchfinder General of England, had led the capture party himself. The name of Jami the Spellsinger was known to him. She was reputedly one of the mightiest spellcasters in all of England, if not all of Europe. He had to be in charge in person.
He rode at the tail of the cart Jami was lying in. He could not get the image of her out of his mind. That magnificent, utterly feminine woman, glowing with power, naked and unafraid, facing what Simon’s religion told him was a demon from Hell. To his eye, she seemed to have destroyed the thing entire, not merely banished it.
Now, he had her in his power. He knew that by using the tickle torture techniques he had been taught by his late father, Simon De Montfort the Elder, Marquis of the Realm of France and Grand Inquisitor, he could compel any woman to confess to anything.
But this younger Simon was unlike his ‘father’ in many ways. The truth, unknown to either Simon, was that the Younger’s biological father had been the Elder’s chief torturer, Martin.
Young Simon shared his real sire’s massive, powerful build. His deep, savage enjoyment in inflicting tickle torture with his own hands. His devastatingly handsome, thoroughly masculine looks. He also shared Martin’s taste in women. To Simon a lushly rounded, fully fleshed woman like Jami, 181/2 stone on a 5’3” frame, was the very epitome of loveliness.
Dammit, Simon didn’t WANT to make this one confess and then burn her at the stake. She was too beautiful. He wanted to keep her. But how? He was racking his brain.
He felt that a woman who had so bravely confronted and destroyed a demon could not possibly be evil. She did not DESERVE to be burned. He was quickly convincing himself that his true duty lay in finding a way to save her.
Arriving at his home, Plymouth Castle, Simon had her carried into the main hall and laid on the floor near the fireplace, freshly strewn with clean rushes. The hearth had a roaring fire against the chill off the nearby English Channel.
Simon took a chair to Jami’s left, and stared at her contemplatively. As Simon sat thinking, a toddler, the young son of one of his men at arms, was wandering across the floor. His attention was caught by a sight he had never seen before. A bundle of cloth with a pair of bare feet sticking out from the near end.
Jami could not see the child approach, and was caught by surprise when he reached out and poked the toes of her left foot. Jami instantly giggled and twitched her feet. This caught the two males’ attention. Simon heard the giggle, the toddler saw the twitch, and both were fascinated.
The toddler sat down in front of these novel objects, actually Jami’s defenseless bare feet, and started to play with them. He created a positive feedback loop.
Each time he touched Jami’s feet, it tickled. Each time it tickled, her feet twitched and she giggled. Each time Jami’s feet twitched, it amused the toddler, which made him touch her feet more.
After several minutes, both of the boy’s soft little hands were in constant contact with Jami’s ticklish feet, stroking and rubbing and gently poking and pinching. Jami was in ticklish agony. Even through the gag in her mouth, Jami’s uncontrollable laughter, though muffled, could be heard.
As Jami’s torment continued and worsened, Simon’s smile broadened into a grin. When the boy’s mother made to retrieve him, Simon waved her off.
One by one, every person in the great hall became aware of what was going on. It amused them immensely to see the reputedly powerful spellsinger reduced to helpless, twitching laughter by the touch of child so young. Tears of humiliation rose in her eyes and began to trickle down her apple cheeks.
Simon did not mean to humiliate Jami unnecessarily, but had a reason for letting the torture continue; by seeing her so amusingly powerless, all of his people would find his decision easier to accept when he found her not guilty of witchcraft. As Simon had already fully decided to do.
Then something happened that inflamed Simon’s lustful feelings for Jami to a fever pitch; the toddler’s soft little fingers brushed across the magic spot on Jami’s right arch. This was the spot where the Earth power entered her body when called; it also was the end of the unusually capacious nerve channel created by the flows of power.
When that spot was physically touched, it created instant, intense arousal in Jami. The cloth she was wrapped in, while strong, was quite thin. As Jami frantically tried to pull that tender arch away from the maddening touch, and the child of course pursued that spot determinedly because of the amusing reaction it caused, Simon noticed something.
Both of Jami’s nipples were standing at attention and still growing. Simon, closer to Jami than any other adult in the hall, also detected the sweet aroma of female arousal.
Standing up and stepping to Jami’s side, Simon shooed the boy back to his mother. He bent down and slipped his arms under her, then easily stood up with her in his arms. Jami was startled.
“Hey!” She thought; “I weigh over 18 stone! This man is incredibly strong!”
Still betraying no strain or effort, he walked off with Jami, carrying her up the stairs to his private torture chamber. Jami, already involuntarily aroused, became more so feeling those massive, mighty arms enfold her.
Simon carried Jami through the door of huge ironbound timbers. Turning, he shut it and threw the bars home while holding Jami in the crook of one arm. If Jami had been impressed with his strength before, she was amazed at it now; “With ONE HAND? 18 stone? Oh, great goddess, is the man a reincarnation of the great Celtic warrior Cu Chulainn?”
With surprising but welcome gentleness, Simon placed Jami on his carpeted floor and then rolled her toward the hearth, unrolling the cloth that had bound her. Before she could move he was on her. He lifted her onto an odd looking device she had rolled up against.
This thing resembled a wooden window frame with built in padded window seat, but torn bodily from the wall and mounted on a heavy, immovable pedestal. Two heavy beams extended from the base, out past the padded seat.
These beams made the structure stable.]
The beams also served as the tracks which a set of stocks rolled back and forth on. The upper bar of the stocks had two contoured wedges attached, one directly above each ankle hole. Each wedge had a strap with five loops across the front near the upper edge.
Jami discovered that struggling against his vast strength was utterly useless. The top crossbeam of the window frame was a set of wrist stocks, which Simon fastened her wrists into. He adjusted the foot stocks and locked her ankles there.
Jami found out what the wedges were for. Simon gently but firmly pressed the tops of her feet against the wedges and slipped the loops around the stems of her toes; then he tightened the straps. Jami had never before in her life felt so helpless.
Simon completed her helplessness by untying the gag, plucking the ball of cloth out, and instantly replacing it with a ring gag. The ring gag consisted of an iron ring, heavily padded with leather. It was slipped between her teeth, then twisted into position. The ring kept her mouth open wide, the padding ensured that it would not hurt or harm the inside of her mouth.
The padding also extended inward enough to act as a tongue depressor. That was the point of the ring gag, invented by the witch hunters of Germany. The wide open center allowed free breathing and let the victim emit short sounds, like laughs. The tongue depressor effect made it impossible to pronounce the multisyllabic words in the ancient tongues which were necessary for the casting or singing of spells.
Simon stood back, and he openly stared at the loveliest sight his eyes had ever seen. As Simon’s face clearly revealed his lust, his obvious desire for her excited Jami’s lust in turn. Somehow, the fact that this powerful, handsome man had her naked and helpless in bondage made her arousal still harder to control.
Simon pulled up a chair, and he sat down beside her bare thighs. Jami was glancing around the room, trying to figure out what kind of torture device he was planning to use on her. Then Simon reached out with both hands and started to tickle her!
Jami was instantly laughing out loud. She just might be the most ticklish woman on earth. Simon’s hands wandered all over her sexy nude body. He tickled her breasts. He tickled her ribs. He tickled her sides. He tickled her belly. He tickled her navel.
Simon tickled Jami’s armpits. He tickled her neck, and her throat. He delighted in tickling her under her chin. He discovered that tickling her neck, especially along the right side, excited her deeply. He loved that.
To Jami, racked by the throes of uncontrollable ticklishness, it seemed that Simon’s hands were just roaming at random across her defenseless body. To look at his face, which she was doing more often than not, one would think he was lost in a reverie, simply enjoying the sensations of her luscious flesh gliding so vulnerably under his hands.
Simon was certainly doing that. He adored the sensation of Jami’s skin against his hands. He had noticed that Jami was uncommonly ticklish, and so rather than just using his fingertips, Simon was tickling Jami with the entirety of the surfaces of both hands. He reveled in the feel of the soft surface flesh and the firm muscles that lay underneath.
The sensations of Jami’s sweet body wriggling, squirming, writhing and twisting under his fingers and palms was absolutely intoxicating to Simon. He was also immensely enjoying the sound of her laughter, the sight of her uncontrollably grinning face, and the sight and scent of her constantly growing arousal.
The thing he enjoyed most all was to feel the vibrations of Jami’s wild, helpless laughter, not through the auditory nerves in his ears, but by way of the tactile nerves in his hands. Simon had tickled many women, but none had produced exquisite, intoxicating body vibrations like these that he was enjoying from Jami’s utterly delightful person.
As much as Simon was enjoying Jami, just so was Jami adoring the sensations of Simon’s big hands on her skin. Oh, it tickled. It tickled more intensely, more unbearably, more wickedly than Jami had ever imagined in her wildest dreams or nightmares. But somehow, against every dictate of logic and reason, she loved how it felt to her body, and the way those sensations made her feel in her mind and emotions.
Simon’s wonderful hands, and look of wild joy on his ruggedly handsome face as he tickled, tormented and tortured her, filled Jami with wild, unaccustomed desires. She wanted to feel those hands on her body forever. She wanted this beautiful man to take her, to use her, to own and possess her.
Somehow, the spellsinger knew that to feel him inside her would lead her to pleasures and joys beyond any she had ever known. In the midst of her unceasing laughter a thought struck her; was she betraying the goddess?
Just for a moment, Jami was wrenched out of time, and she stood in a heavenly hall. She stood before the Goddess in the aspect of Great Earth Mother.
“You’re not betraying me, child. When I felt them take you I kept our link open, intending to share your torture and eventual execution, and to carry you out of your body to heaven at the moment of death. When I felt that man tickling you, I chose to open the channel completely.
Girl, I haven’t enjoyed a good, helpless tickling since I appointed that handsome hero Mikran to guard my Fane, more than 25,000 years ago! I had forgotten how lovely it feels to a woman, to be totally out of control as her tickler commands all her senses. How sweet to feel utterly helpless and yet safe, to know that you’re now at the mercy of a man who does not have the slightest intention of hurting or harming you.
Oh, yes! And that was the other reason I summoned you here in spirit, to this moment frozen out of time. That Simon does not mean to harm you. No matter how ruthlessly he tickle tortures you, he will not allow you to utter the words of a confession.
Once he has tortured you long enough, maybe for several days or weeks, he will announce to all and sundry that he has found you innocent of witchcraft. By that time he will have gotten the witchfinders who witnessed your spellsinging killed by sending them against the Pictish Shaman’s in the wilderness home of their tribes. He has already planned that.
Then, he will announce his plans to wed you, as compensation for the torture he inflicted. Of course, after marriage, he intends to continue to torture you in just this way, every night, for your mutual pleasure. You see, he is very perceptive. He saw at once how much you loved to be tickled, and he is tormenting you as much for your pleasure as his own.
He intends to overwhelm your resistance with pleasure, until you become reconciled to wedding him. When you eventually do, and you will, he will become the great protector of the true bards and mages. He will use his office only to prosecute and destroy those like the foolish priest who summoned the fire spirit, dabblers in evil magic.
One final bit of advice; by the end of this night, you will be eager to give in and marry him. Simon is that kind of man. Do not give quite that quickly. Pretend to hold out, to have doubts. Make him work for a while to conquer you. First, he will value you all the more highly for it.”
Here the goddess smiled wickedly; “Secondly, it will be more fun for all concerned; him, you, and I. I intend to be sharing your pleasure whenever he tickles you. That will serve you instead of the usual sacrifices of produce and handicrafts.”
Without any sense of time having passed, Jami was back in her own time and place. Just as tickled, just as teased, just as helplessly out of control. Just as aroused and as lustfully wanting. Only one thing was different.
Now as saw the lustful pleasure on Simon’s face, now as she drank in the joy that her own desperate ticklishness gave him, her pleasure was no longer tempered by fear. Fear that he might use her deepening need to compel her to give a confession, and use that to burn her alive.
Trusting the word of the Goddess completely, her body dropped it’s last defenses and let her innate ticklishness have free reign over her. Now she let the little butterflies of helpless apprehension go, knowing the man who was tormenting her so deliciously had no intention of doing her harm.
But Simon was doing a lot more than merely enjoying his sexy, defenseless prey. Simon was carefully noticing how Jami’s body responded to different touches in different places on her person. Making mental notes.
It took Simon fully two hours to finish the detailed exploration of Jami’s delightful ticklishness to his own satisfaction. Two hours which Simon enjoyed more than any other time he had memory of. It was at least quite debatable which of the twain had enjoyed it more.
Now Simon started to use what he’d observed. He had detected a change in Jami’s response to his tickling. He could see she was no longer fighting for control; Jami was simply relaxing and letting herself enjoy how the tickling swept her away from herself. Now, it was time to excite her and tease her.
Simon moved his chair around behind Jami. He pressed the whole front of his muscular body against her naked back. He leaned in to nuzzle and kiss the right side of her neck, feeling the way that sent shivers of pleasure and arousal shooting down her taut nerves.
Simon kept nuzzling her neck, feeling it driving her crazy. He reached around her sides and cupped both of Jami’s ample breasts in his hands. Then he began gently, maddeningly tickling the undersides of those tender globes. Simon loved the vibrations of Jami’s full throated laughter. He was feeling them clearly where his chest pressed against her shoulders.
Jami was turning her head from one side to the other. On one twist to the right, Simon caught her open mouth with his own, and locked her into a long, deep, wet kiss, while his fingertips strummed lightly across her erect nipples, making them throb with desire and tickling her wickedly. Jami kept laughing right through that sexy kiss. “Goddess..” Jami wondered; “Why do these feelings of helplessness turn me on so?”
Just when Jami thought she could stand no more teasing, Simons hands leapt from her breasts to her soft inner thighs. Oh, how that tickled and teased and aroused her! She loved the sensations. She ...loved Simon? That thought was new to her. Jami had no time to dwell on it. Jami was too busy laughing as Simon’s hands tickled her inner thighs, driving her wild with ticklish arousal.
After a while that seemed like forever and too short to Jami, Simon stood up and disrobed very quickly. He detached the ankle stocks from the uprights which held them up. He then moved them up to the wrist stocks and attached them there, Jami’s ankles still enclosed.
Simon dropped to his knees, and he started applying his skilled lips and tongue to Jami’s womanhood. Meanwhile, his hands were unmercifully tickling the backs of her thighs, knees and calves. Then, when he felt Jami right on the edge of an orgasm, Simon began to tickle the creases where both Jami’s thighs met her buttocks.
Simon had noticed that this was an ultimate hot spot for Jami. It tickled her so badly, poor Jami just couldn’t stand it at all. Her happy, wild struggling ceased for a moment, as though the tickling sensations had suddenly grown so intense that they paralyzed her, leaving her bereft of all power of movement, except for her loud, desperate laughter.
As the intensity of her own sensations kept Jami’s body immobilized, Simon used his lips and tongue to tickle-tease Jami’s clit, sending her over the edge into one crashing, thunderous orgasm.
Never had Jami suspected that such intense pleasure resided within her body. She now knew that only by binding her helpless, and tickling her to the point of torture and past it, had Simon been able to release that capacity.
Jami was grateful, but that could wait. Simon was no where near done with her yet. He continued his oral ministrations to Jami’s sex while his hands kept on tickling all over her. He kept Jami happily laughing while making her cum three more times.
With physical power that still startled, Simon lifted the frame from it’s base, Jami and all, and laid it and Jami upon her back on the carpet. Next, he separated and adjusted the ankle stocks.
Now Jami’s left leg was held straight from her bent double hip up the front of her body, so that her ankle-and-toe bound left foot was in front of her shoulder. Her right leg was bent at the hip and the knee, so her right shin stood straight up at a right angle to her thigh, leaving her ankle-and-toe bound right foot helpless in midair.
All of this took only seconds. Simon was well practiced at the adjustments that could be made to the bondage device he had designed and, with his own hands, built. He bent his head to Jami’s sex, administering a tongue tickling that left her on the brink of another orgasm.
Next Simon entered Jami’s hot, ready pussy. He had been ready for this for some time. Both felt a sweet rush of pleasure as Simon slowly patiently pressed himself into Jami’s warm, wet, ready but extraordinarily tight little puss.
She was almost abnormally tight, but Simon’s patience, and the extraordinary readiness he had produced in Jami by his skillful tickle-teasing, made it possible without hurting her. Both felt her internal muscles rhythmically contract in greeting to the welcome intruder.
Simon reached upward with both hands and tickled Jami’s immobilized left foot. Jami’s laughter swelled out like a finely tuned carillon of bells. The sound thrilled Simon as deeply as the sweet agony of the tickling sensation thrilled Jami.
Jami was rolling and squirming in delight as Simon brought her to another tickled orgasm. Simon was deeply enjoying the helpless delight on Jami’s face as she came again.
Simon switched his attentions to Jami’s raised right foot. His left hand was tickling the ball of her foot while his right applied maddeningly teasing caresses to her heel. There was an indefinably happy note to the laughter that pealed irresistibly from deep in Jami’s chest.
At this angle, the head of his member was rubbing directly on Jami’s G-spot. Simon’s remarkable thickness was moving her flesh in just the right way to stimulate her eagerly throbbing clit.
The tickling sensations engulfing her right foot not only made Jami keep laughing, it caused her to involuntarily roll her lovely wide hips again and again. Every roll sent a wave of delight from her G-spot and clit to her brain where it mixed with the unbearably sweet ticklish torment. Jami was in a kind of ticklish heaven.
Simon turned up the level of sensation by moving the ticklish caresses of his left hand to the defenseless, bound toes of Jami’s right foot, while the terrible teasing strokes of his right hand went from her heel to the flat of her sole.
Simon continued to torment her this way until he felt Jami trembling on the brink of climax again, then played his ultimate pleasure card. Suddenly both of Simon’s hands, assisted by strokes of his long, silky beard, were unbearably, terribly, maddeningly tickling the arch of Jami’s right foot, right on the supernaturally tender, responsive, and sensitive magic spot.
The preternaturally capacious nerve channel that led from Jami’s right arch was entirely filled with tickling sensations. Her trained, singers’ voice TRILLED with sweet laughter at a volume possible only to a frantically ticklish woman whose most vulnerable tickle spot is being teased beyond her endurance.
Jami had an orgasm more powerful, more intense, longer lasting and more complete than all that gone before combined. Then she had another, even better, and another one better than that!
Jami had entered a state of tickled ecstasy so exalted she just couldn’t take any more. But she had to take more, because Simon just would not stop tickling her magic spot! Soon she could feel herself writhing from rapid fire orgasms, each one impossibly wonderful, closer and closer together until they all merged into one endless paean of sexual joy.
Simon’s ten fingertips plus all his maddening soft whiskers torturing Jami’s magically responsive right arch took her way beyond human endurance. The Goddess was helping her devotee to survive and enjoy as her mind and soul floated away on a cloud of tortured, ticklish pleasure. Then Simon came in her.
Jami could feel Simon’s mighty body convulsing and shuddering with near godlike release as he attained the greatest physical pleasure he had ever known. His massive, shuddering explosion of pleasure triggered Jami into her own blast of joyful release, fully an order of magnitude greater than the best she had known before.
Simon quickly released Jami’s limbs from their bondage. The first thing she did was to press her heels against Simon’s hard muscled buttocks and squeeze herself right up against him as hard as she could, giving both of them one more jolt of pleasure.
Then Jami lay back, pulling him over on top of her, rubbing her tingling right arch hard up and down Simon’s rocklike left leg, her toes and arch eagerly feeling the muscular contours of the thigh and calf.
Simon’s great shout of joy had been heard through the tightly shut door. When a servant inquired if all were well, Simon shouted back that he had failed to extract a confession. He would continue to interrogate the witch through the night and into the morning.
Then, in a more normal voice, he began to explain his intentions to Jami, how he meant to delay things until he could plausibly claim to have found her not guilty, but she only smiled that the Goddess had told her all. Smiling back now, Simon asked; “She even told you I intend to make you mine?”
Jami smiled again; “Yes, she did tell me, but why should I mind, when I already am yours, my love. We were destined to be. We were made for each other.”
Then, happily spooning, they soon fell asleep.
As always, comments are welcome and illustrations eagerly sought.
Mastertank1
We who play and dance are thought mas by they who hear no music.
By Mastertank1
This story was inspired by and written for Ticklish Lurker of the TMF, The character of Jami the Spellsinger is based upon her. The character of Simon The Younger is modeled on an idealized version of me, and was inspired by an acyual Witchfinder General of late medieval England.
After hundreds of years of relentless persecution by the priests and friars of the new religion, now taken up by the church’s latest tools, the witchfinders, there were few practitioners of the old religion left. The new religion referred to the followers of the old as witches, warlocks and wizards.
Jami would have been a rare practitioner even in the days when the old religion ruled the land unchallenged. Jami was a spellsinger; a person who could invoke the ancient powers by the purity and clarity of her voice raised in song.
Where most of the other invokers of power needed elaborate apparatus, and frequently had to use hard to find substances, Jami could accomplish great things using only herself and her voice. When she received the desperate plea for help, she went at once.
A priest of the new religion, dabbling in black magic, had conjured a malevolent spirit of fire, and had failed to control it. The spirit had destroyed the fool who allowed it to enter the mortal world, and now wandered free. The spirit wrought havoc wherever it went, because such was its nature.
When Jami heard the plea of the peasant communities in the path of the evil spirit, she felt that she had to respond. She knew it would expose her to two kinds of danger. First, the spirit itself might harm her if it were clever or if she was not careful enough. Second, the superstitious followers of the new religion might call the witchfinders on her, even though she would be there to save them.
Despite the dual dangers, Jami felt that she had no choice. She was the nearest one with the power to deal with the problem. To her sense of duty, that meant that she must answer the call.
Jami arrived in the next village in the spirit’s path. While she was conferring with the village leaders, no one noticed an ill favored, sour countenanced individual slipping away from the meeting. He was exactly the kind of unpopular chronic malcontent who saw the new religion, with its encouragement of holier-than-thou self righteousness, as a weapon to wield against his neighbors.
Accompanied only by the village’s Reeve and chief huntsman, Jami went into the surrounding forest to confront the uncontrolled fire spirit. Her magical senses told her where it was, and she placed herself in between it and the village.
When the creature drew near, Jami disrobed. The spell she intended to sing, as all the most powerful spells, required that the caster be skyclad. The invoker of the powers must wear nothing more than the torque around their neck, so that the Goddesses and Gods would see that they were being addressed by a free person, not by a slave or a serf.
Jami took her stand in a long clearing. The spirit appeared at the opposite end.
On top of low knoll of earth, Jami stood proudly naked before the Goddess, magnificent in her fully fleshed femininity. If anyone watching had a classical education, they would have compared her to the images of ancient fertility Goddesses like Cybelle or the Magna Mater. Jami inhaled a deep breath, and she sang.
The notes rang out, true, high and clear. At first they were just vocal music, but then she began to sing words. They were words in the old Celtic language, the language of Druids and Bards out of time immemorial.
She pronounced every syllable of the intricate words to perfection, and sang each note truly. Jami could feel the Earth power gathering in response to her song.
She had a spot on her right foot, covering most of the arch, where the Earth power entered her body when she invoked it. Jami could feel that spot starting to tingle now, then she could feel the flow begin.
After a few minutes, Jami was filled with the Earth power, glowing through every pore. The Earth power gleamed in her strawberry blonde hair and shone through her hazel eyes. Soon every inch of her lightly tanned skin was glowing with it.
She was magnificent, nothing less. The 5’3” woman loomed like the avatar of the Goddess that she had become, fearlessly confronting the huge fire spirit.
For it’s part, the spirit of Fire detected a growing presence of its most deadly antagonist, Earth. It attempted to move straight at Jami, but the song held it back like a powerful wind, then firmed up like an invisible wall.
Angry, the fire spirit tried to outflank that wall. It tried to the right, then to the left. It rose up and tried to stoop down from above. Whatever maneuver the ill spirit attempted, Jami turned to confront it and stop it.
While he was trying to outflank Jami, the spirit himself had been outflanked by her. The wall of force generated by her song had enclosed the spirit, becoming a sphere with the spirit inside.
As a part of her magical training, Jami had taken unbreakable oaths, held by the Goddess, not to use magic to harm any living thing. This applied even to malevolent spirits like her current opponent. Jami did not plan to kill it.
Instead, she would force the personification of flame to go back to the lower plane it had been summoned from. In order to do this, she now changed her song, and sphere of power Jami had generated started contracting.
The process was long, slow, and difficult. The fire spirit kept on attacking the sphere. It was trying to find a way out, but there was none.
The sphere kept on shrinking and shrinking. The squeeze became more and more painful for the supernatural creature. It screamed, and it cursed in its own foul, unnatural language, and finally gave up. It opened a gateway within the ever contracting sphere and then fled to it’s home.
With a resounding POP it was gone. Jami ended her song by releasing the power and thanking the Earth goddess. She felt the gathered force flow out of her. Finally finished, she slumped in exhaustion, and that’s when the witchfinders pounced.
Before she had time to react, they had stuffed a wadded cloth into her mouth and then tied it in place with a strip of fabric. They covered her head in a sack, and they rolled her entire body up in great swath of sacking material. Three of them lifted her up on their shoulders and carried her to a waiting cart, where they dumped her.
As the cart rolled away, the informant, he of the sour countenance, approached the leader of the witchfinders. He received a small sum of money.
As the witchfinders departed with their catch, the Reeve and the chief huntsman exchanged a few quiet words while glaring at the oblivious traitor. The next time the villagers went on a hunt for food, the traitor would be the unfortunate victim of the accidental discharge of an arrow from somebody’s bow.
Lord Simon De Montfort The Younger, Earl of Plymouth and Witchfinder General of England, had led the capture party himself. The name of Jami the Spellsinger was known to him. She was reputedly one of the mightiest spellcasters in all of England, if not all of Europe. He had to be in charge in person.
He rode at the tail of the cart Jami was lying in. He could not get the image of her out of his mind. That magnificent, utterly feminine woman, glowing with power, naked and unafraid, facing what Simon’s religion told him was a demon from Hell. To his eye, she seemed to have destroyed the thing entire, not merely banished it.
Now, he had her in his power. He knew that by using the tickle torture techniques he had been taught by his late father, Simon De Montfort the Elder, Marquis of the Realm of France and Grand Inquisitor, he could compel any woman to confess to anything.
But this younger Simon was unlike his ‘father’ in many ways. The truth, unknown to either Simon, was that the Younger’s biological father had been the Elder’s chief torturer, Martin.
Young Simon shared his real sire’s massive, powerful build. His deep, savage enjoyment in inflicting tickle torture with his own hands. His devastatingly handsome, thoroughly masculine looks. He also shared Martin’s taste in women. To Simon a lushly rounded, fully fleshed woman like Jami, 181/2 stone on a 5’3” frame, was the very epitome of loveliness.
Dammit, Simon didn’t WANT to make this one confess and then burn her at the stake. She was too beautiful. He wanted to keep her. But how? He was racking his brain.
He felt that a woman who had so bravely confronted and destroyed a demon could not possibly be evil. She did not DESERVE to be burned. He was quickly convincing himself that his true duty lay in finding a way to save her.
Arriving at his home, Plymouth Castle, Simon had her carried into the main hall and laid on the floor near the fireplace, freshly strewn with clean rushes. The hearth had a roaring fire against the chill off the nearby English Channel.
Simon took a chair to Jami’s left, and stared at her contemplatively. As Simon sat thinking, a toddler, the young son of one of his men at arms, was wandering across the floor. His attention was caught by a sight he had never seen before. A bundle of cloth with a pair of bare feet sticking out from the near end.
Jami could not see the child approach, and was caught by surprise when he reached out and poked the toes of her left foot. Jami instantly giggled and twitched her feet. This caught the two males’ attention. Simon heard the giggle, the toddler saw the twitch, and both were fascinated.
The toddler sat down in front of these novel objects, actually Jami’s defenseless bare feet, and started to play with them. He created a positive feedback loop.
Each time he touched Jami’s feet, it tickled. Each time it tickled, her feet twitched and she giggled. Each time Jami’s feet twitched, it amused the toddler, which made him touch her feet more.
After several minutes, both of the boy’s soft little hands were in constant contact with Jami’s ticklish feet, stroking and rubbing and gently poking and pinching. Jami was in ticklish agony. Even through the gag in her mouth, Jami’s uncontrollable laughter, though muffled, could be heard.
As Jami’s torment continued and worsened, Simon’s smile broadened into a grin. When the boy’s mother made to retrieve him, Simon waved her off.
One by one, every person in the great hall became aware of what was going on. It amused them immensely to see the reputedly powerful spellsinger reduced to helpless, twitching laughter by the touch of child so young. Tears of humiliation rose in her eyes and began to trickle down her apple cheeks.
Simon did not mean to humiliate Jami unnecessarily, but had a reason for letting the torture continue; by seeing her so amusingly powerless, all of his people would find his decision easier to accept when he found her not guilty of witchcraft. As Simon had already fully decided to do.
Then something happened that inflamed Simon’s lustful feelings for Jami to a fever pitch; the toddler’s soft little fingers brushed across the magic spot on Jami’s right arch. This was the spot where the Earth power entered her body when called; it also was the end of the unusually capacious nerve channel created by the flows of power.
When that spot was physically touched, it created instant, intense arousal in Jami. The cloth she was wrapped in, while strong, was quite thin. As Jami frantically tried to pull that tender arch away from the maddening touch, and the child of course pursued that spot determinedly because of the amusing reaction it caused, Simon noticed something.
Both of Jami’s nipples were standing at attention and still growing. Simon, closer to Jami than any other adult in the hall, also detected the sweet aroma of female arousal.
Standing up and stepping to Jami’s side, Simon shooed the boy back to his mother. He bent down and slipped his arms under her, then easily stood up with her in his arms. Jami was startled.
“Hey!” She thought; “I weigh over 18 stone! This man is incredibly strong!”
Still betraying no strain or effort, he walked off with Jami, carrying her up the stairs to his private torture chamber. Jami, already involuntarily aroused, became more so feeling those massive, mighty arms enfold her.
Simon carried Jami through the door of huge ironbound timbers. Turning, he shut it and threw the bars home while holding Jami in the crook of one arm. If Jami had been impressed with his strength before, she was amazed at it now; “With ONE HAND? 18 stone? Oh, great goddess, is the man a reincarnation of the great Celtic warrior Cu Chulainn?”
With surprising but welcome gentleness, Simon placed Jami on his carpeted floor and then rolled her toward the hearth, unrolling the cloth that had bound her. Before she could move he was on her. He lifted her onto an odd looking device she had rolled up against.
This thing resembled a wooden window frame with built in padded window seat, but torn bodily from the wall and mounted on a heavy, immovable pedestal. Two heavy beams extended from the base, out past the padded seat.
These beams made the structure stable.]
The beams also served as the tracks which a set of stocks rolled back and forth on. The upper bar of the stocks had two contoured wedges attached, one directly above each ankle hole. Each wedge had a strap with five loops across the front near the upper edge.
Jami discovered that struggling against his vast strength was utterly useless. The top crossbeam of the window frame was a set of wrist stocks, which Simon fastened her wrists into. He adjusted the foot stocks and locked her ankles there.
Jami found out what the wedges were for. Simon gently but firmly pressed the tops of her feet against the wedges and slipped the loops around the stems of her toes; then he tightened the straps. Jami had never before in her life felt so helpless.
Simon completed her helplessness by untying the gag, plucking the ball of cloth out, and instantly replacing it with a ring gag. The ring gag consisted of an iron ring, heavily padded with leather. It was slipped between her teeth, then twisted into position. The ring kept her mouth open wide, the padding ensured that it would not hurt or harm the inside of her mouth.
The padding also extended inward enough to act as a tongue depressor. That was the point of the ring gag, invented by the witch hunters of Germany. The wide open center allowed free breathing and let the victim emit short sounds, like laughs. The tongue depressor effect made it impossible to pronounce the multisyllabic words in the ancient tongues which were necessary for the casting or singing of spells.
Simon stood back, and he openly stared at the loveliest sight his eyes had ever seen. As Simon’s face clearly revealed his lust, his obvious desire for her excited Jami’s lust in turn. Somehow, the fact that this powerful, handsome man had her naked and helpless in bondage made her arousal still harder to control.
Simon pulled up a chair, and he sat down beside her bare thighs. Jami was glancing around the room, trying to figure out what kind of torture device he was planning to use on her. Then Simon reached out with both hands and started to tickle her!
Jami was instantly laughing out loud. She just might be the most ticklish woman on earth. Simon’s hands wandered all over her sexy nude body. He tickled her breasts. He tickled her ribs. He tickled her sides. He tickled her belly. He tickled her navel.
Simon tickled Jami’s armpits. He tickled her neck, and her throat. He delighted in tickling her under her chin. He discovered that tickling her neck, especially along the right side, excited her deeply. He loved that.
To Jami, racked by the throes of uncontrollable ticklishness, it seemed that Simon’s hands were just roaming at random across her defenseless body. To look at his face, which she was doing more often than not, one would think he was lost in a reverie, simply enjoying the sensations of her luscious flesh gliding so vulnerably under his hands.
Simon was certainly doing that. He adored the sensation of Jami’s skin against his hands. He had noticed that Jami was uncommonly ticklish, and so rather than just using his fingertips, Simon was tickling Jami with the entirety of the surfaces of both hands. He reveled in the feel of the soft surface flesh and the firm muscles that lay underneath.
The sensations of Jami’s sweet body wriggling, squirming, writhing and twisting under his fingers and palms was absolutely intoxicating to Simon. He was also immensely enjoying the sound of her laughter, the sight of her uncontrollably grinning face, and the sight and scent of her constantly growing arousal.
The thing he enjoyed most all was to feel the vibrations of Jami’s wild, helpless laughter, not through the auditory nerves in his ears, but by way of the tactile nerves in his hands. Simon had tickled many women, but none had produced exquisite, intoxicating body vibrations like these that he was enjoying from Jami’s utterly delightful person.
As much as Simon was enjoying Jami, just so was Jami adoring the sensations of Simon’s big hands on her skin. Oh, it tickled. It tickled more intensely, more unbearably, more wickedly than Jami had ever imagined in her wildest dreams or nightmares. But somehow, against every dictate of logic and reason, she loved how it felt to her body, and the way those sensations made her feel in her mind and emotions.
Simon’s wonderful hands, and look of wild joy on his ruggedly handsome face as he tickled, tormented and tortured her, filled Jami with wild, unaccustomed desires. She wanted to feel those hands on her body forever. She wanted this beautiful man to take her, to use her, to own and possess her.
Somehow, the spellsinger knew that to feel him inside her would lead her to pleasures and joys beyond any she had ever known. In the midst of her unceasing laughter a thought struck her; was she betraying the goddess?
Just for a moment, Jami was wrenched out of time, and she stood in a heavenly hall. She stood before the Goddess in the aspect of Great Earth Mother.
“You’re not betraying me, child. When I felt them take you I kept our link open, intending to share your torture and eventual execution, and to carry you out of your body to heaven at the moment of death. When I felt that man tickling you, I chose to open the channel completely.
Girl, I haven’t enjoyed a good, helpless tickling since I appointed that handsome hero Mikran to guard my Fane, more than 25,000 years ago! I had forgotten how lovely it feels to a woman, to be totally out of control as her tickler commands all her senses. How sweet to feel utterly helpless and yet safe, to know that you’re now at the mercy of a man who does not have the slightest intention of hurting or harming you.
Oh, yes! And that was the other reason I summoned you here in spirit, to this moment frozen out of time. That Simon does not mean to harm you. No matter how ruthlessly he tickle tortures you, he will not allow you to utter the words of a confession.
Once he has tortured you long enough, maybe for several days or weeks, he will announce to all and sundry that he has found you innocent of witchcraft. By that time he will have gotten the witchfinders who witnessed your spellsinging killed by sending them against the Pictish Shaman’s in the wilderness home of their tribes. He has already planned that.
Then, he will announce his plans to wed you, as compensation for the torture he inflicted. Of course, after marriage, he intends to continue to torture you in just this way, every night, for your mutual pleasure. You see, he is very perceptive. He saw at once how much you loved to be tickled, and he is tormenting you as much for your pleasure as his own.
He intends to overwhelm your resistance with pleasure, until you become reconciled to wedding him. When you eventually do, and you will, he will become the great protector of the true bards and mages. He will use his office only to prosecute and destroy those like the foolish priest who summoned the fire spirit, dabblers in evil magic.
One final bit of advice; by the end of this night, you will be eager to give in and marry him. Simon is that kind of man. Do not give quite that quickly. Pretend to hold out, to have doubts. Make him work for a while to conquer you. First, he will value you all the more highly for it.”
Here the goddess smiled wickedly; “Secondly, it will be more fun for all concerned; him, you, and I. I intend to be sharing your pleasure whenever he tickles you. That will serve you instead of the usual sacrifices of produce and handicrafts.”
Without any sense of time having passed, Jami was back in her own time and place. Just as tickled, just as teased, just as helplessly out of control. Just as aroused and as lustfully wanting. Only one thing was different.
Now as saw the lustful pleasure on Simon’s face, now as she drank in the joy that her own desperate ticklishness gave him, her pleasure was no longer tempered by fear. Fear that he might use her deepening need to compel her to give a confession, and use that to burn her alive.
Trusting the word of the Goddess completely, her body dropped it’s last defenses and let her innate ticklishness have free reign over her. Now she let the little butterflies of helpless apprehension go, knowing the man who was tormenting her so deliciously had no intention of doing her harm.
But Simon was doing a lot more than merely enjoying his sexy, defenseless prey. Simon was carefully noticing how Jami’s body responded to different touches in different places on her person. Making mental notes.
It took Simon fully two hours to finish the detailed exploration of Jami’s delightful ticklishness to his own satisfaction. Two hours which Simon enjoyed more than any other time he had memory of. It was at least quite debatable which of the twain had enjoyed it more.
Now Simon started to use what he’d observed. He had detected a change in Jami’s response to his tickling. He could see she was no longer fighting for control; Jami was simply relaxing and letting herself enjoy how the tickling swept her away from herself. Now, it was time to excite her and tease her.
Simon moved his chair around behind Jami. He pressed the whole front of his muscular body against her naked back. He leaned in to nuzzle and kiss the right side of her neck, feeling the way that sent shivers of pleasure and arousal shooting down her taut nerves.
Simon kept nuzzling her neck, feeling it driving her crazy. He reached around her sides and cupped both of Jami’s ample breasts in his hands. Then he began gently, maddeningly tickling the undersides of those tender globes. Simon loved the vibrations of Jami’s full throated laughter. He was feeling them clearly where his chest pressed against her shoulders.
Jami was turning her head from one side to the other. On one twist to the right, Simon caught her open mouth with his own, and locked her into a long, deep, wet kiss, while his fingertips strummed lightly across her erect nipples, making them throb with desire and tickling her wickedly. Jami kept laughing right through that sexy kiss. “Goddess..” Jami wondered; “Why do these feelings of helplessness turn me on so?”
Just when Jami thought she could stand no more teasing, Simons hands leapt from her breasts to her soft inner thighs. Oh, how that tickled and teased and aroused her! She loved the sensations. She ...loved Simon? That thought was new to her. Jami had no time to dwell on it. Jami was too busy laughing as Simon’s hands tickled her inner thighs, driving her wild with ticklish arousal.
After a while that seemed like forever and too short to Jami, Simon stood up and disrobed very quickly. He detached the ankle stocks from the uprights which held them up. He then moved them up to the wrist stocks and attached them there, Jami’s ankles still enclosed.
Simon dropped to his knees, and he started applying his skilled lips and tongue to Jami’s womanhood. Meanwhile, his hands were unmercifully tickling the backs of her thighs, knees and calves. Then, when he felt Jami right on the edge of an orgasm, Simon began to tickle the creases where both Jami’s thighs met her buttocks.
Simon had noticed that this was an ultimate hot spot for Jami. It tickled her so badly, poor Jami just couldn’t stand it at all. Her happy, wild struggling ceased for a moment, as though the tickling sensations had suddenly grown so intense that they paralyzed her, leaving her bereft of all power of movement, except for her loud, desperate laughter.
As the intensity of her own sensations kept Jami’s body immobilized, Simon used his lips and tongue to tickle-tease Jami’s clit, sending her over the edge into one crashing, thunderous orgasm.
Never had Jami suspected that such intense pleasure resided within her body. She now knew that only by binding her helpless, and tickling her to the point of torture and past it, had Simon been able to release that capacity.
Jami was grateful, but that could wait. Simon was no where near done with her yet. He continued his oral ministrations to Jami’s sex while his hands kept on tickling all over her. He kept Jami happily laughing while making her cum three more times.
With physical power that still startled, Simon lifted the frame from it’s base, Jami and all, and laid it and Jami upon her back on the carpet. Next, he separated and adjusted the ankle stocks.
Now Jami’s left leg was held straight from her bent double hip up the front of her body, so that her ankle-and-toe bound left foot was in front of her shoulder. Her right leg was bent at the hip and the knee, so her right shin stood straight up at a right angle to her thigh, leaving her ankle-and-toe bound right foot helpless in midair.
All of this took only seconds. Simon was well practiced at the adjustments that could be made to the bondage device he had designed and, with his own hands, built. He bent his head to Jami’s sex, administering a tongue tickling that left her on the brink of another orgasm.
Next Simon entered Jami’s hot, ready pussy. He had been ready for this for some time. Both felt a sweet rush of pleasure as Simon slowly patiently pressed himself into Jami’s warm, wet, ready but extraordinarily tight little puss.
She was almost abnormally tight, but Simon’s patience, and the extraordinary readiness he had produced in Jami by his skillful tickle-teasing, made it possible without hurting her. Both felt her internal muscles rhythmically contract in greeting to the welcome intruder.
Simon reached upward with both hands and tickled Jami’s immobilized left foot. Jami’s laughter swelled out like a finely tuned carillon of bells. The sound thrilled Simon as deeply as the sweet agony of the tickling sensation thrilled Jami.
Jami was rolling and squirming in delight as Simon brought her to another tickled orgasm. Simon was deeply enjoying the helpless delight on Jami’s face as she came again.
Simon switched his attentions to Jami’s raised right foot. His left hand was tickling the ball of her foot while his right applied maddeningly teasing caresses to her heel. There was an indefinably happy note to the laughter that pealed irresistibly from deep in Jami’s chest.
At this angle, the head of his member was rubbing directly on Jami’s G-spot. Simon’s remarkable thickness was moving her flesh in just the right way to stimulate her eagerly throbbing clit.
The tickling sensations engulfing her right foot not only made Jami keep laughing, it caused her to involuntarily roll her lovely wide hips again and again. Every roll sent a wave of delight from her G-spot and clit to her brain where it mixed with the unbearably sweet ticklish torment. Jami was in a kind of ticklish heaven.
Simon turned up the level of sensation by moving the ticklish caresses of his left hand to the defenseless, bound toes of Jami’s right foot, while the terrible teasing strokes of his right hand went from her heel to the flat of her sole.
Simon continued to torment her this way until he felt Jami trembling on the brink of climax again, then played his ultimate pleasure card. Suddenly both of Simon’s hands, assisted by strokes of his long, silky beard, were unbearably, terribly, maddeningly tickling the arch of Jami’s right foot, right on the supernaturally tender, responsive, and sensitive magic spot.
The preternaturally capacious nerve channel that led from Jami’s right arch was entirely filled with tickling sensations. Her trained, singers’ voice TRILLED with sweet laughter at a volume possible only to a frantically ticklish woman whose most vulnerable tickle spot is being teased beyond her endurance.
Jami had an orgasm more powerful, more intense, longer lasting and more complete than all that gone before combined. Then she had another, even better, and another one better than that!
Jami had entered a state of tickled ecstasy so exalted she just couldn’t take any more. But she had to take more, because Simon just would not stop tickling her magic spot! Soon she could feel herself writhing from rapid fire orgasms, each one impossibly wonderful, closer and closer together until they all merged into one endless paean of sexual joy.
Simon’s ten fingertips plus all his maddening soft whiskers torturing Jami’s magically responsive right arch took her way beyond human endurance. The Goddess was helping her devotee to survive and enjoy as her mind and soul floated away on a cloud of tortured, ticklish pleasure. Then Simon came in her.
Jami could feel Simon’s mighty body convulsing and shuddering with near godlike release as he attained the greatest physical pleasure he had ever known. His massive, shuddering explosion of pleasure triggered Jami into her own blast of joyful release, fully an order of magnitude greater than the best she had known before.
Simon quickly released Jami’s limbs from their bondage. The first thing she did was to press her heels against Simon’s hard muscled buttocks and squeeze herself right up against him as hard as she could, giving both of them one more jolt of pleasure.
Then Jami lay back, pulling him over on top of her, rubbing her tingling right arch hard up and down Simon’s rocklike left leg, her toes and arch eagerly feeling the muscular contours of the thigh and calf.
Simon’s great shout of joy had been heard through the tightly shut door. When a servant inquired if all were well, Simon shouted back that he had failed to extract a confession. He would continue to interrogate the witch through the night and into the morning.
Then, in a more normal voice, he began to explain his intentions to Jami, how he meant to delay things until he could plausibly claim to have found her not guilty, but she only smiled that the Goddess had told her all. Smiling back now, Simon asked; “She even told you I intend to make you mine?”
Jami smiled again; “Yes, she did tell me, but why should I mind, when I already am yours, my love. We were destined to be. We were made for each other.”
Then, happily spooning, they soon fell asleep.
As always, comments are welcome and illustrations eagerly sought.
Mastertank1
We who play and dance are thought mas by they who hear no music.
Guess I'll just have to TICKLE IT OUT OF YOU! 
I always get those two confused!) 
Shall I try again tonight? 
