Shem the Penman
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[What, Leftovers Again? Dept.: Yes, you may have seen these before. I last reposted them to the old TMF back when Psycho was running the place. As that board has mostly vanished, I'm reposting 'em at the request of Myriads and certain other folks who know who they are. I'll only do a few at a time so as not to crowd out other people's stories. Enjoy, or don't, as you will.]
THE STARS ARE RIGHT
another one of those stories
based on & inspired by "You're Next!" (ChdPet09.jpg) by Chad Pet
THE CURSE OF 1,000 DINGLEBERRIES SHALL FALL UPON ANYONE UNDER 18 WHO READS THIS STORY. BEWARE! BEWARE!
"Enter three witches," Brigid giggled.
Morgan only rolled her eyes. The joke was dumb to begin with, and Brigid insisted on repeating it every time they got together. She pointedly turned away from the redhead and looked at Arianrhod. "What will we be working tonight, Ari?"
"Oh, the same thing we do every night," Brigid said, jumping in. "Try to rule the world!"
Morgan darted a glare at her, but then noticed that Ari was nodding slowly. "_What?_"
"The time is right." Ari had a deep, sonorous voice that made even her minor statements sound portentous. "The stars are in place, and the seasons are turning. For the first time in three centuries, it will be possible for us to do the Great Work."
"I don't think I know that one…"
Ari drew a dusty, leather-bound old book from the stack by her elbow and flipped it open. Morgan recognized it: the _Ticklonomicon_, the Book of Laughter, the source for most of the magicks their little coven had worked. Few other witches were even aware of the potential power of laughter, and Morgan was once again glad she'd met Ari, even if the tall blonde creeped her out sometimes. "The Great Work: Power to command sky and sea, earth and spirit, animal and ... man." Ari ran a gloved fingertip down the list of materials required to perform the magick. "I have been laying in supplies for this day. We lack nothing, save one thing: six hours of laughter from ticklish males, freshly gathered. I propose we do that gathering this evening."
"We're going hunting?" Brigid bounced up out of her seat. "Cool! We haven't gone out since that time we did the invisibility charm and went to that wedding … Find us someone, Mor! I can't wait!"
Morgan smiled, her irritation with the younger witch forgotten at the prospect of a hunt. She picked up a long ostrich plume from beside her chair and reached out to run it over a mirror hanging on the wall. The mirror quivered and rippled almost exactly like a ticklish belly, filled with fog, and then cleared as the three witches clustered around it.
***
"She _tickled_ you?" Jordan asked.
Daniel shifted on his chair, glancing around his friend's cramped living room. "Yeah. We were having an argument about what to watch on TV, and Eileen got her hands under my shirt and started tickling me, and I just lost it. And now she's trying to tickle me all the time ... it drives me nuts."
"Stand up to her, then! Tell her to stop!"
"That just encourages her."
"Man." Jordan shook his head disgustedly. "Any girlfriend of mine tried that, I'd slap her into the middle of next week. You're a guy -- you shouldn't let her do stuff like that to you."
"I can't stop her. I just kind of, well, fold up ... "
"You're pathetic -- " Jordan began, and then his front door -- double locked and bolted -- banged open. The three witches stepped inside (Brigid muttering, "Enter three witches" sotto voce), the imposing figure of Arianrhod in their lead.
"What the hell -- " Jordan jumped up from his seat. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Ari pointed a finger casually at Daniel. "Make him laugh, and I'll see to the preparations."
Before Daniel could utter a word of protest, Brigid and Morgan had seized an arm apiece, and their fingers dug into his ribs through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. He let out a startled yelp and convulsed in their grasp. Jordan gaped at the spectacle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arianrhod make a gesture -- and suddenly both he and Daniel were naked except for their underwear.
"I like a guy who's confident enough to wear black bikini shorts," leered Brigid.
"Hey -- ladies -- quit it -- c'mon -- " Daniel gasped, twisting this way and that, leaking giggles. The witches were no longer holding him, but their fingers roamed freely up and down his sides, easily evading his flailing hands. Caught between two tickling dynamos, he spun helplessly. It was, Jordan saw, obviously up to him to rescue the poor dope from this silly situation. He took a step toward the witches, and then Arianrhod's fingers flickered in the air once more, and Jordan felt himself rise off the floor, his body folding up of its own accord.
"What the -- " With a faint pop, a wooden frame materialized around his legs, padded holes clamped tightly just above the knees. His forearms were wrapped together in thick leather strapping that was attached to the top of the stocks, and as he struggled he discovered that his ankles were bound together as well. Daniel, meanwhile, found himself sitting in a chair nearby, facing the back, as ropes wound themselves around his wrists and ankles and the chair's frame.
At least the two women weren't tickling him any more, but they were both looking at him with identical and highly unsettling smiles that suggested they knew exactly what they were going to do with his (gulp) bare and (double gulp) very tightly tied body. "Nice, Ari," Morgan said approvingly, darting a finger at Daniel's belly and pulling back at the last minute, laughing softly as he flinched.
"Okay, let's get him," Brigid said, running a teasing fingernail down Daniel's spine and raising goosebumps.
Arianrhod had produced a length of short cord and had just finished tying Jordan's big toes together. "We shall make use of this one first," she directed.
"But _this_ guy's the super-ticklish one," complained Brigid. "You heard him. That guy isn't going to be much good."
"Suffice it to say that he overestimates his willpower." The tiniest of smiles briefly illuminated Arianrhod's classical features. "And I must confess, I find the prospect of your 'super-ticklish' toy witnessing, in thorough detail, what lies in store for him to be quite amusing."
Morgan chuckled. "You're an evil woman, Ari."
"Thank you." The coven leader inclined her head modestly.
Jordan's eyes darted from face to face as the three witches closed in on him: Brigid smirking broadly, Morgan with a twisted smile, Arianrhod cool, unreadable, and pitiless. "You chicks are wasting your time," he said loudly. "I don't have a single ticklish spot on my body."
"Oh, yes? Aside from ... this one?" Arianrhod laid a single slender finger in the center of the arch of the foot nearest her, lightly tracing the pale, thin skin. Jordan's foot twitched involuntarily, but then he held it rock steady. Even Daniel, a couple yards away, could see that he was biting the inside of his lower lip. "Don't feel a thing," he grunted.
"Let me try!" sang Brigid, and Jordan barely had time to brace himself before the arch of his other foot was filled with five scribbling nails. Brigid didn't stop there; her other hand scratched the ball of the foot and the heel. Jordan couldn't hold still. His foot twitched sideways, curling, and the cord that tied his toes drew the other foot after it, tautening the sole and making it even more vulnerable to Arianrhod's wandering finger. Arianrhod had been expecting this and took quick advantage, taking his foot in both hands and stroking her thumbs up and down along the center of the sole. Jordan ducked his head, his long brown hair screening his rapidly darkening face as his feet flipped back and forth, trying to find some equilibrium. "Do you feel this?" Brigid asked brightly, but received no answer.
Morgan leaned on the top of the stocks, chin on fist, casually brushing Jordan's hair away from his face. His eyes and mouth were screwed up bloodlessly tight, and his mouth was turned up in a small, agonized smile. "It's fun to see you struggle like this," she said, "but what we need is your laughter." She laid a gentle hand on his curled-up belly. "I can feel it in here." Jordan's eyes snapped open, and he looked up at her with naked desperation, but Morgan affected not to notice. "Laugh for us, Jordan." Her insistent fingers dimpled his stomach, then began rippling up and down like a spider doing pushups. Jordan tossed his head back, trying to squirm back out of the stocks, but he moved not an inch. Standing on tiptoes, Morgan reached her other hand over the stocks; with both hands, she could cover every inch of his belly with ticklish torment, from the rim of his navel to the waist, sides, and undersides of the ribs, scrambling quickly all over. Jordan held out for a fruit fly's heartbeat more before bursting into laughter, a helpless torrent loud enough to echo in the small room. Morgan, her face practically touching his, smiled angelically as the mirth washed over her and settled down to a more prolonged teasing of the spots she'd just discovered on the sides of his waist. "Enough! Stop!" Jordan yelled, the wooden frame creaking with the force of his struggles. "Cut it out!"
"You should have listened to your friend, baby," Brigid said, running the knuckle of her forefinger up and down his arch. "That just encourages us. Now we'll never stop ... "
Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Jordan's hysterical laughter -- and the rather spectacular view of Morgan's legs and behind her current position offered -- were having an effect on him, setting his skin to tingling. Jeez ... they'd got Jordan howling in only a few minutes. If they touched _him_, he'd probably explode. He tried not to think about how it would feel to be tickled unmercifully by three beautiful women. He tried really hard, but with what was going on in front of him, it was about as easy to keep the thoughts out of his mind as it was going to be to keep their hands off him ...
Brigid laughed, jolting Daniel out of his thoughts, and pointed at him. "Oh, you were right, Ari -- look at the expression on his face!" Daniel felt himself blushing as all three witches turned to look. Letting go of Jordan's foot, Brigid skipped over to him. "Can I do him now?" Her hands skated up his sides, fingers insinuating themselves under his arms; they moved only slightly, the merest wiggle, but even so the feel of her nails twitching over his sensitive skin made Daniel writhe with wild giggles.
"Control yourself, sister." Ari's fingers did not falter in their relentless glide along Jordan's sole. "Let us confine ourself to one male until he is exhausted. There is no point in being prodigal with their strength for the sake of amusement. Remember, these two must last us for ... " She paused, and again the tiny wicked smile crossed her face. "... six hours." Both Daniel and Jordan, tickling momentarily forgotten, gasped in horror, staring wide-eyed at one another as all three witches laughed as loudly as if they were the ones being tickled.
Brigid recalled Daniel to himself with a sharp underarm tickle that made him gasp. "Remember this, honey," she purred into his ear. "This is what I'm going to do to you, until you can't take any more ... and then some. You better hope your friend is as tough as he claims." She left him and approached Jordan again. Morgan was now kneeling in front of the stocks, tickling both sets of toes alternatively, driving Jordan crazy with laughter and frustration as he tried to keep both feet protectively curled, which the cord would not allow him to do. Arianrhod now stood behind Jordan, her black velvet fingertips walking up and down his sides with cat's-foot softness, making Jordan tremble with uncertainty. Whenever they stopped, Arianrhod allowed Jordan a split second of horrified recognition before digging into rib or waist or burrowing under arms. She looked past him at Daniel, and though her face was impassive as always, Daniel saw a flicker of glee in her sapphire eyes each time Jordan whooped under her hands.
Brigid knelt down by the foot she had tickled earlier. "Hi, there. Miss me?" With a snap of her fingers, she conjured a large scrub brush and began scrubbing Jordan's entire sole at once.
"Don't waste the laughter," Morgan said as she concentrated her efforts on Jordan's other foot, fluttering continuously from base of toes to heel and back up again.
"So we have to tickle him for another ten minutes." Brigid shrugged. "I don't think these guys will mind. What do you say?" Jordan's head rolled back as he yelled with laughter, and Daniel dared not say anything that might call their attention to him.
"See? They don't mind." She pulled the brush away and slid her fingers down Jordan's sole, newly sensitized and reddened from her ferocious scrubbing.
"Come _on_!" Jordan wailed. "I can't take -- " He broke off in a bleat as Arianrhod inserted a gently twisting finger in his navel.
"Of course you can," Morgan said in a chiding tone. "You can take whatever we decide to do to you. Not that you have a choice, of course ... " She reached behind the stocks to give Jordan a juicy squeeze just above one knee, then the other. Jordan's heels pounded on the wooden frame as he strained against the bonds that held his legs. He bent nearly double as he tried to straighten his legs, and then sat up quickly as he felt Arianrhod's fingers slip into his wide-open underarms. The blonde witch circled and circled a single fingertip maddeningly around the edge of each hollow. Morgan, kneeling below, reached up through Jordan's legs to use her nails on his laughter-heaving belly, leaving a gleeful Brigid to tease both feet with light caresses interspersed with bursts of two-handed, merciless tickling.
Jordan's entire body was slick with sweat, and his face had passed red long ago and was shading toward purple, the color washing down his neck and across his chest. The sound of his laughter was growing fainter and fainter, and Daniel suddenly realized with fresh horror that Jordan was already approaching the edge of his endurance. It would be his turn all too soon while Jordan recovered. He stared at his writhing friend, trying to will him new strength. A chilly sensation washed over him, and he looked up from Jordan's dripping face to meet Arianrhod's cool blue gaze.
"I think we should switch over now," the blonde said, and there was a smile in the words even if her face remained expressionless. "Our second toy is ready." As one, Brigid and Morgan turned to look at Daniel, and he was powerless to look away. Their smiles glittered with malice. They rose, leaving Jordan limp and gasping behind them -- just like Daniel would be, before too long.
The three witches approached Daniel, and he shrank back in his seat, trying to curl up as small as possible. He wanted desperately to say something that would stop them, but there was no hope of a reprieve in the way their eyes traced the lines of his body, as if he had a map of his ticklish spots painted on his skin. Wide-eyed, he tried to watch them all at once: Arianrhod was reaching for his feet, the gentleness of her movements promising a slow, lingering touch ... Brigid had slipped around behind him, hands on his shoulders making him remember the ruthless underarm tickling she'd threatened him with ... and Morgan was looking out the window.
"Say, Ari," she said, "why is there only a three-quarter moon out there?"
Arianrhod looked out the window, and for once her self-assurance faltered. "The moon should be full. I don't understand."
Brigid glanced at Jordan's Baywatch calendar. "Full moon's next week ... " Then realization hit her, and she began to laugh. Arianrhod glared at her. Morgan had to hide a smile behind her hand. The two men stared at their tormentors in confusion.
"Genius here," Brigid said between whoops, indicating Arianrhod, "brought us out a week early!"
"A perfectly reasonable error," Arianrhod muttered, but then reasserted herself. "We still have the other supplies ready. We shall just have to start over next weekend."
"Isn't it terrible?" Morgan was giggling now. "All that tickling for nothing."
Slowly, Arianrhod smiled. "Indeed. Distressing. But I'm sure these gentlemen will be glad to help us out next time, especially since they were so _enthusiastic_ tonight."
Brigid patted Daniel on the back. "And we'll start with him. It's only fair. Wear the black underwear again, honey -- it's an inspiration."
Arianrhod raised a hand, fingers spread, and the three witches vanished, along with the bonds holding Daniel and Jordan. Daniel promptly fell off his chair, while Jordan dropped onto the couch.
After a few minutes, Daniel dared to speak. "Jordan?"
".... ?"
"I don't know about you, but I'm going home and start packing."
".... right."
THE STARS ARE RIGHT
another one of those stories
based on & inspired by "You're Next!" (ChdPet09.jpg) by Chad Pet
THE CURSE OF 1,000 DINGLEBERRIES SHALL FALL UPON ANYONE UNDER 18 WHO READS THIS STORY. BEWARE! BEWARE!
"Enter three witches," Brigid giggled.
Morgan only rolled her eyes. The joke was dumb to begin with, and Brigid insisted on repeating it every time they got together. She pointedly turned away from the redhead and looked at Arianrhod. "What will we be working tonight, Ari?"
"Oh, the same thing we do every night," Brigid said, jumping in. "Try to rule the world!"
Morgan darted a glare at her, but then noticed that Ari was nodding slowly. "_What?_"
"The time is right." Ari had a deep, sonorous voice that made even her minor statements sound portentous. "The stars are in place, and the seasons are turning. For the first time in three centuries, it will be possible for us to do the Great Work."
"I don't think I know that one…"
Ari drew a dusty, leather-bound old book from the stack by her elbow and flipped it open. Morgan recognized it: the _Ticklonomicon_, the Book of Laughter, the source for most of the magicks their little coven had worked. Few other witches were even aware of the potential power of laughter, and Morgan was once again glad she'd met Ari, even if the tall blonde creeped her out sometimes. "The Great Work: Power to command sky and sea, earth and spirit, animal and ... man." Ari ran a gloved fingertip down the list of materials required to perform the magick. "I have been laying in supplies for this day. We lack nothing, save one thing: six hours of laughter from ticklish males, freshly gathered. I propose we do that gathering this evening."
"We're going hunting?" Brigid bounced up out of her seat. "Cool! We haven't gone out since that time we did the invisibility charm and went to that wedding … Find us someone, Mor! I can't wait!"
Morgan smiled, her irritation with the younger witch forgotten at the prospect of a hunt. She picked up a long ostrich plume from beside her chair and reached out to run it over a mirror hanging on the wall. The mirror quivered and rippled almost exactly like a ticklish belly, filled with fog, and then cleared as the three witches clustered around it.
***
"She _tickled_ you?" Jordan asked.
Daniel shifted on his chair, glancing around his friend's cramped living room. "Yeah. We were having an argument about what to watch on TV, and Eileen got her hands under my shirt and started tickling me, and I just lost it. And now she's trying to tickle me all the time ... it drives me nuts."
"Stand up to her, then! Tell her to stop!"
"That just encourages her."
"Man." Jordan shook his head disgustedly. "Any girlfriend of mine tried that, I'd slap her into the middle of next week. You're a guy -- you shouldn't let her do stuff like that to you."
"I can't stop her. I just kind of, well, fold up ... "
"You're pathetic -- " Jordan began, and then his front door -- double locked and bolted -- banged open. The three witches stepped inside (Brigid muttering, "Enter three witches" sotto voce), the imposing figure of Arianrhod in their lead.
"What the hell -- " Jordan jumped up from his seat. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Ari pointed a finger casually at Daniel. "Make him laugh, and I'll see to the preparations."
Before Daniel could utter a word of protest, Brigid and Morgan had seized an arm apiece, and their fingers dug into his ribs through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. He let out a startled yelp and convulsed in their grasp. Jordan gaped at the spectacle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arianrhod make a gesture -- and suddenly both he and Daniel were naked except for their underwear.
"I like a guy who's confident enough to wear black bikini shorts," leered Brigid.
"Hey -- ladies -- quit it -- c'mon -- " Daniel gasped, twisting this way and that, leaking giggles. The witches were no longer holding him, but their fingers roamed freely up and down his sides, easily evading his flailing hands. Caught between two tickling dynamos, he spun helplessly. It was, Jordan saw, obviously up to him to rescue the poor dope from this silly situation. He took a step toward the witches, and then Arianrhod's fingers flickered in the air once more, and Jordan felt himself rise off the floor, his body folding up of its own accord.
"What the -- " With a faint pop, a wooden frame materialized around his legs, padded holes clamped tightly just above the knees. His forearms were wrapped together in thick leather strapping that was attached to the top of the stocks, and as he struggled he discovered that his ankles were bound together as well. Daniel, meanwhile, found himself sitting in a chair nearby, facing the back, as ropes wound themselves around his wrists and ankles and the chair's frame.
At least the two women weren't tickling him any more, but they were both looking at him with identical and highly unsettling smiles that suggested they knew exactly what they were going to do with his (gulp) bare and (double gulp) very tightly tied body. "Nice, Ari," Morgan said approvingly, darting a finger at Daniel's belly and pulling back at the last minute, laughing softly as he flinched.
"Okay, let's get him," Brigid said, running a teasing fingernail down Daniel's spine and raising goosebumps.
Arianrhod had produced a length of short cord and had just finished tying Jordan's big toes together. "We shall make use of this one first," she directed.
"But _this_ guy's the super-ticklish one," complained Brigid. "You heard him. That guy isn't going to be much good."
"Suffice it to say that he overestimates his willpower." The tiniest of smiles briefly illuminated Arianrhod's classical features. "And I must confess, I find the prospect of your 'super-ticklish' toy witnessing, in thorough detail, what lies in store for him to be quite amusing."
Morgan chuckled. "You're an evil woman, Ari."
"Thank you." The coven leader inclined her head modestly.
Jordan's eyes darted from face to face as the three witches closed in on him: Brigid smirking broadly, Morgan with a twisted smile, Arianrhod cool, unreadable, and pitiless. "You chicks are wasting your time," he said loudly. "I don't have a single ticklish spot on my body."
"Oh, yes? Aside from ... this one?" Arianrhod laid a single slender finger in the center of the arch of the foot nearest her, lightly tracing the pale, thin skin. Jordan's foot twitched involuntarily, but then he held it rock steady. Even Daniel, a couple yards away, could see that he was biting the inside of his lower lip. "Don't feel a thing," he grunted.
"Let me try!" sang Brigid, and Jordan barely had time to brace himself before the arch of his other foot was filled with five scribbling nails. Brigid didn't stop there; her other hand scratched the ball of the foot and the heel. Jordan couldn't hold still. His foot twitched sideways, curling, and the cord that tied his toes drew the other foot after it, tautening the sole and making it even more vulnerable to Arianrhod's wandering finger. Arianrhod had been expecting this and took quick advantage, taking his foot in both hands and stroking her thumbs up and down along the center of the sole. Jordan ducked his head, his long brown hair screening his rapidly darkening face as his feet flipped back and forth, trying to find some equilibrium. "Do you feel this?" Brigid asked brightly, but received no answer.
Morgan leaned on the top of the stocks, chin on fist, casually brushing Jordan's hair away from his face. His eyes and mouth were screwed up bloodlessly tight, and his mouth was turned up in a small, agonized smile. "It's fun to see you struggle like this," she said, "but what we need is your laughter." She laid a gentle hand on his curled-up belly. "I can feel it in here." Jordan's eyes snapped open, and he looked up at her with naked desperation, but Morgan affected not to notice. "Laugh for us, Jordan." Her insistent fingers dimpled his stomach, then began rippling up and down like a spider doing pushups. Jordan tossed his head back, trying to squirm back out of the stocks, but he moved not an inch. Standing on tiptoes, Morgan reached her other hand over the stocks; with both hands, she could cover every inch of his belly with ticklish torment, from the rim of his navel to the waist, sides, and undersides of the ribs, scrambling quickly all over. Jordan held out for a fruit fly's heartbeat more before bursting into laughter, a helpless torrent loud enough to echo in the small room. Morgan, her face practically touching his, smiled angelically as the mirth washed over her and settled down to a more prolonged teasing of the spots she'd just discovered on the sides of his waist. "Enough! Stop!" Jordan yelled, the wooden frame creaking with the force of his struggles. "Cut it out!"
"You should have listened to your friend, baby," Brigid said, running the knuckle of her forefinger up and down his arch. "That just encourages us. Now we'll never stop ... "
Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Jordan's hysterical laughter -- and the rather spectacular view of Morgan's legs and behind her current position offered -- were having an effect on him, setting his skin to tingling. Jeez ... they'd got Jordan howling in only a few minutes. If they touched _him_, he'd probably explode. He tried not to think about how it would feel to be tickled unmercifully by three beautiful women. He tried really hard, but with what was going on in front of him, it was about as easy to keep the thoughts out of his mind as it was going to be to keep their hands off him ...
Brigid laughed, jolting Daniel out of his thoughts, and pointed at him. "Oh, you were right, Ari -- look at the expression on his face!" Daniel felt himself blushing as all three witches turned to look. Letting go of Jordan's foot, Brigid skipped over to him. "Can I do him now?" Her hands skated up his sides, fingers insinuating themselves under his arms; they moved only slightly, the merest wiggle, but even so the feel of her nails twitching over his sensitive skin made Daniel writhe with wild giggles.
"Control yourself, sister." Ari's fingers did not falter in their relentless glide along Jordan's sole. "Let us confine ourself to one male until he is exhausted. There is no point in being prodigal with their strength for the sake of amusement. Remember, these two must last us for ... " She paused, and again the tiny wicked smile crossed her face. "... six hours." Both Daniel and Jordan, tickling momentarily forgotten, gasped in horror, staring wide-eyed at one another as all three witches laughed as loudly as if they were the ones being tickled.
Brigid recalled Daniel to himself with a sharp underarm tickle that made him gasp. "Remember this, honey," she purred into his ear. "This is what I'm going to do to you, until you can't take any more ... and then some. You better hope your friend is as tough as he claims." She left him and approached Jordan again. Morgan was now kneeling in front of the stocks, tickling both sets of toes alternatively, driving Jordan crazy with laughter and frustration as he tried to keep both feet protectively curled, which the cord would not allow him to do. Arianrhod now stood behind Jordan, her black velvet fingertips walking up and down his sides with cat's-foot softness, making Jordan tremble with uncertainty. Whenever they stopped, Arianrhod allowed Jordan a split second of horrified recognition before digging into rib or waist or burrowing under arms. She looked past him at Daniel, and though her face was impassive as always, Daniel saw a flicker of glee in her sapphire eyes each time Jordan whooped under her hands.
Brigid knelt down by the foot she had tickled earlier. "Hi, there. Miss me?" With a snap of her fingers, she conjured a large scrub brush and began scrubbing Jordan's entire sole at once.
"Don't waste the laughter," Morgan said as she concentrated her efforts on Jordan's other foot, fluttering continuously from base of toes to heel and back up again.
"So we have to tickle him for another ten minutes." Brigid shrugged. "I don't think these guys will mind. What do you say?" Jordan's head rolled back as he yelled with laughter, and Daniel dared not say anything that might call their attention to him.
"See? They don't mind." She pulled the brush away and slid her fingers down Jordan's sole, newly sensitized and reddened from her ferocious scrubbing.
"Come _on_!" Jordan wailed. "I can't take -- " He broke off in a bleat as Arianrhod inserted a gently twisting finger in his navel.
"Of course you can," Morgan said in a chiding tone. "You can take whatever we decide to do to you. Not that you have a choice, of course ... " She reached behind the stocks to give Jordan a juicy squeeze just above one knee, then the other. Jordan's heels pounded on the wooden frame as he strained against the bonds that held his legs. He bent nearly double as he tried to straighten his legs, and then sat up quickly as he felt Arianrhod's fingers slip into his wide-open underarms. The blonde witch circled and circled a single fingertip maddeningly around the edge of each hollow. Morgan, kneeling below, reached up through Jordan's legs to use her nails on his laughter-heaving belly, leaving a gleeful Brigid to tease both feet with light caresses interspersed with bursts of two-handed, merciless tickling.
Jordan's entire body was slick with sweat, and his face had passed red long ago and was shading toward purple, the color washing down his neck and across his chest. The sound of his laughter was growing fainter and fainter, and Daniel suddenly realized with fresh horror that Jordan was already approaching the edge of his endurance. It would be his turn all too soon while Jordan recovered. He stared at his writhing friend, trying to will him new strength. A chilly sensation washed over him, and he looked up from Jordan's dripping face to meet Arianrhod's cool blue gaze.
"I think we should switch over now," the blonde said, and there was a smile in the words even if her face remained expressionless. "Our second toy is ready." As one, Brigid and Morgan turned to look at Daniel, and he was powerless to look away. Their smiles glittered with malice. They rose, leaving Jordan limp and gasping behind them -- just like Daniel would be, before too long.
The three witches approached Daniel, and he shrank back in his seat, trying to curl up as small as possible. He wanted desperately to say something that would stop them, but there was no hope of a reprieve in the way their eyes traced the lines of his body, as if he had a map of his ticklish spots painted on his skin. Wide-eyed, he tried to watch them all at once: Arianrhod was reaching for his feet, the gentleness of her movements promising a slow, lingering touch ... Brigid had slipped around behind him, hands on his shoulders making him remember the ruthless underarm tickling she'd threatened him with ... and Morgan was looking out the window.
"Say, Ari," she said, "why is there only a three-quarter moon out there?"
Arianrhod looked out the window, and for once her self-assurance faltered. "The moon should be full. I don't understand."
Brigid glanced at Jordan's Baywatch calendar. "Full moon's next week ... " Then realization hit her, and she began to laugh. Arianrhod glared at her. Morgan had to hide a smile behind her hand. The two men stared at their tormentors in confusion.
"Genius here," Brigid said between whoops, indicating Arianrhod, "brought us out a week early!"
"A perfectly reasonable error," Arianrhod muttered, but then reasserted herself. "We still have the other supplies ready. We shall just have to start over next weekend."
"Isn't it terrible?" Morgan was giggling now. "All that tickling for nothing."
Slowly, Arianrhod smiled. "Indeed. Distressing. But I'm sure these gentlemen will be glad to help us out next time, especially since they were so _enthusiastic_ tonight."
Brigid patted Daniel on the back. "And we'll start with him. It's only fair. Wear the black underwear again, honey -- it's an inspiration."
Arianrhod raised a hand, fingers spread, and the three witches vanished, along with the bonds holding Daniel and Jordan. Daniel promptly fell off his chair, while Jordan dropped onto the couch.
After a few minutes, Daniel dared to speak. "Jordan?"
".... ?"
"I don't know about you, but I'm going home and start packing."
".... right."
more! more!
