“Game of Thrones: The Five Queens” Part 6
*Note to my readers: This story is loosely based off of the show series. This is fan fiction so I’ve altered the timeline and taken it in a direction which accommodates a story such as this. There are some parts that contain spoilers for anyone who hasn’t watched the show or isn’t up to date on episodes so fair warning. Enjoy!
Littlefinger pulled the blindfold off of Ellaria’s eyes. After a few blinks to clear her vision, she saw that her daughter, Tyene, had been captured. A guard on each side of her held her arms as a third began binding her wrists. Tyene gritted her teeth and tried to pull free but it was no use. The little Sand Snake was bound tightly and now a prisoner of Littlefinger.
Arya watched from the ceiling rafters still. She had tried to convince Tyene to stay out of sight, to be patient until a fail-proof opportunity presented itself. She and Tyene were skilled warriors but they still couldn’t hope to cut through several guards and escape the city before they were captured or killed. Stupid Tyene...she just couldn’t stand watching her mother tickled mercilessly. But look where that got her. Arya felt awful for the girl but her main concern now was that Tyene didn’t give up information about her. Arya knew she would probably have to make her move soon. She couldn’t risk Tyene saying something that would lead to her capture.
Littlefinger looked the petite, tan girl up and down. “So...planning to cut us all down with a dagger? You have your mother’s bravery but not her intelligence I’m afraid. Guards, take this one and her mother up to my chambers. The rest of them can be secured for the night.” Littlefinger paused for a moment as if he sensed something. Then he continued walking and left his establishment for the night.
Ellaria and Tyene both shouted and tried to jerk away as they were taken out to a small wagon together and carted up to King Baelish’s room. After they realized that they could not escape, they both consoled each other. Tyene admitted that she was scared that she might be tickled now. She had just seen her mother screaming with laughter for days while she had been tickled. Ellaria tried to comfort her and reassure her daughter that it was going to be okay but she knew better. Soon both of them would be getting tickled horribly.
When the Dornish beauties had been taken away, Arya silently descended down from her hiding spot in the rafters. She landed softly on the stone floor like a cat, poised and listening intently. She could hear the guards removing the remaining captive queens from their stocks. Arya was hidden in the shadows behind a large curtain hanging down as a divider. She watched and observed everything before her...how many guards, their weapons, cover she could use...all while she calculated her plan of attack.
The first guard was blindsided with a dagger to the neck as Arya pounced on him like a leopard. The sound of the guard’s armor clinking as he crumbled to the floor attracted the attention of one of the remaining guards. A quick slash as he entered the shadows sent him to the afterlife as well. The last guard sensed something was wrong and drew his sword as he slowly wondered toward the dark corner of the room where his comrades had gone silent. His blade was pointed toward the shadows as he approached with caution. Then a dagger flew out from nowhere and struck him in the throat. He gasped and rolled wildly as he died quickly.
Arya emerged from the darkness and rushed over to the tickle coffins where the remaining queens were. The heavy wooden lids had not been put into place yet to seal them in for the night. Arya saw that Sansa, Cersei, and Daenerys were already wrapped up in their usual mummification routine. Their eyes, noses, breasts, and feet were the only visible parts of their body as they lay helpless and exhausted in the boxes, finally ready for a night’s reprieve from the tickling.
Arya used her dagger to cut Sansa free from the wrappings binding her in her cocoon-like state. Sansa instantly began sobbing when she saw Arya had come to her rescue. She didn’t think she could take another day of unbearable tickling, as silly as that sounded to her. Sansa quickly slipped on her clothes once her sister calmed her down.
As Sansa was retrieving her boots, she stopped and looked at Cersei and Daenerys wiggling in their tickle coffins, shouting muffled, broken pleas to be let out as well. Cersei’s kicked her feet and her eyes almost bulged out of her head as she grunted and shouted into the wrappings covering her mouth. Daenerys was trying her hardest to wiggle her arms free as she made muffled whiny noises into the cloth gagging her.
Sansa: “What should we do about them? If we leave them, they’ll just be tickled longer and eventually side with Littlefinger.”
Arya: “We can’t take them. We’ll need to be as quiet as possible when sneaking past the guards. They could give us away. Now that I mention it, we can’t just leave them like this either.”
Sansa: “What do you mean? I thought you just said we couldn’t let them come with us.”
Arya: “We can’t. But we can’t leave them like this now. They’ve seen us. If more guards come in, they’ll question these two about what happened and sound the alarm. Even if we escape King’s Landing, we’ll lose our head start. We have to keep them from talking to any guards after we leave. We’ll have to put them to sleep for a while so they can’t talk. You know, make them pass out. I have an idea...”
Arya went over to Cersei Lannister’s tickle coffin and climbed on top of the sturdy table it rested on. Cersei of course had heard the Stark girls talking and knew they were going to try and put her unconscious. She wiggled and mumbled indecipherable complaints into the cloth wrapped around her mouth. Arya had a satisfied smirk as she addressed the queen that she so passionately hated.
Arya: “Cersei Lannister...I’ve wanted to kill you for so long. But not today. I think killing you would be a mercy compared to what Littlefinger has in store for you from now on. Whether you swear loyalty to him or not. No, I think I’ll let you live for now but...I can’t have you talking about how I killed these guards and freed Sansa either. I need to make certain that you’ll be quiet at least for a little while. Now how should I smother that perfect little nose of yours so that you can’t breathe? With my hands? Or with my feet?”
Cersei’s glare became more intense as she shook her head and wiggled harder. Arya smiled as she slipped off her boots and climbed barefoot into the tickle coffin. She rested lightly on Cersei and flicked her bare feet out, hovering them just above Cersei’s face. The bratty Lannister queen could see Arya’s meaty size 6 soles were pale and shapely, with just a hint of pink highlighting the prominent areas. Short bubbly toes and rounded heels with just a hint of moistness about them from being in her warm boots. Cersei had guessed Arya would have small feet but they were also a little wide, plenty of real estate there to smother her nose since she couldn’t breathe through her mouth.
Cersei whined and bucked as Arya lowered her slightly stinky, warm soles down firmly over Cersei’s face. Her high arches came together to form a decent seal over Cersei’s nose, forcing her to only breath in the smell of Arya’s soles in shallow breaths. Sansa saw the appeal of Arya’s plan and followed suit. She clambered up into Daenerys’ tickle coffin, who by now knew exactly what was coming and was squirming like crazy. Daenerys whined and had a pleading look in her eyes as she tried to non-verbally appeal to Sansa, the women who she once considered an ally.
Sansa wrapped her arms around the backs of her knees and pulled her bare feet up so Daenerys could see them. Sansa had a satisfied smirk as she said, “So the Queen of Dragons thought she could just seduce my brother and take over The North...MY North. You’re an outsider and I never trusted you. You blinded my brother with lust and love but I don’t blame him for that. He thought he loved you and it’s rather difficult even for a good man to deny a queen that ravishes him every night. Oh I could hear through the wall how you rode him like a stallion.” Sansa continued bitterly as she wiggled her toes, “I couldn’t help but be woken up by your screaming and moaning. How you would take him in your mouth again and again so deep that you gagged. Or when you would invite Missandei into your bed to please him double. It was manipulation and nothing more. And The North remembers...”
With that, Sansa lowered her large, size 9 soles down and completely covered Daenerys’ face. Daenerys whined and struggled but soon realized the only air she would be getting would be from the small pocket between her nose and Sansa’s smelly arches. Sansa wiggled her long toes on Daenerys’ face and gave her sarcastic reassurances as the silver-haired Targaryen girl was forced to inhale the foot stink.
Arya laughed as she watched Cersei Lannister shake her head and panic for fresh air as she made sounds almost like coughing. She skillfully kept her tiny, wide size 6 soles in place no matter how much Cersei struggled. Sansa’s long soles covered nearly all of Daenery’s face. Daenerys would try to hold her breath for as long as possible and then was forced to take a deep inhale every so often. Sansa teased her and suggested her next title should be “Smeller of Sansa’s Feet”.
After several minutes of fighting for air, Cersei and Daenerys began to weaken and still themselves. Daenerys went limp with Sansa’s large soles still covering her face. Cersei’s shouts became more and more desperate as Arya rubbed her feet around playfully. Finally the golden-haired bitch succumbed to the foot stink and passed out. Arya and Sansa pulled on their boots and slipped out of the brothel into the night.
Meanwhile in Littlefinger’s bedchamber.....
Tyene screamed laughter again as Ros dug her nails into her freshly oiled ribs and danced them around mercilessly. The short, exotic beauty turned out to be just as ticklish as her mother, a quality she wholeheartedly regretted inheriting. Ros skittered her fingernails up and over Tyene’s perky, tan tits. The oil glistened on her fleshy mounds and her small, dark nipples. Tyene tried to grit her teeth but the laughter came out in hissing giggles. Her impressive breasts jiggled and bounced as she hopped and shook with laughter.
Tyene and her mother, Ellaria, were each tied to one of the wooden bedposts. Their arms were outstretched above their heads and secured to the top of the posts. Ellaria watched with despair as Tyene was subjected to the same intense tickle torture she herself had been enduring for days now. Unfortunately, her daughter wasn’t having any better time with it.
Ellaria tensed as she felt Melisandre rubbing another coat of fresh oil on her sides and tummy. The hands touching her sensitive, muscular stomach and sides brought her back to the reality of her own situation. The Red Woman had already been going at her upper body for some time now alongside her daughter but now it was time to start again. Ellaria whimpered and begged for Melisandre not to tickle her again but soon, the relentless fingernails were scratching along her sides near her hips.
Ellaria slipped back into girlish giggles and tried shifting one way and then the other. Melisandre’s long nails slid effortlessly in random patterns over the slick tummy and sides of the captive Dornish Queen. Ellaria was starting to break down and cry from sheer exhaustion as Melisandre wiggled a finger in her wet bellybutton and ran her other hand along the waistline of her pants, just above her groin. Ellaria was going mad with laughter.
Tyene squealed and giggled while Ros stood next to her and danced her fingers over her oiled up chest. Ros cupped her breasts, which were quite a handful for such a small woman, and teasingly flicked the erect nipples. Tyene giggled and tried to twist away but it was useless. She cried out, “Mom! Mom, make her stop! Hahahahaha this is awful!” Ros felt Tyene tremble as she ran her fingernails along the undersides and outer edges of her slippery tits, making the poor girl laugh even harder.
Ellaria’s visible abdominal muscles crunches and contorted as she shook with laughter and squirmed around uncomfortably while Melisandre’s unrelenting fingernails raked gently over her tummy and ribs. The Red Woman even brought them up and caressed them teasingly over Ellaria’s small mounds. She did not have quite the same intense reaction to the area as her daughter but still giggled quite a lot. Ellaria really burst back into laughter and struggled to catch her breath when Melisandre suddenly jumped up to her taught, exposed underarms. The slick, smooth hollows were a goldmine of ticklish sensitivity. Ellaria screamed and then laughed pathetically as tears of frustration started streaming down her face.
Littlefinger watched with sick, twisted pleasure from his seat in front of the women. He was quite pleased that Ellaria’s daughter had turned up. And he would have loved nothing more than to subject her to this tickle torture for trying to kill him in his own brothel. Littlefinger taunted the mother and daughter by saying, “Ellaria, my sweet...need this continue? Swear loyalty to me as your king. Put Dorne under my rule and this can end. Think of Tyene here. She’s certainly having a tough time. Or would you rather we try a Dornish custom next? How about we bury you and your daughter in some sand down by the bay? But instead of putting scorpions on your faces, we’ll leave your feet sticking out? Would you prefer we tickle your feet for a couple hours next?”
Ellaria could hardly think straight with fingernails squirming continuously in her armpits but she managed to look over and see Tyene. Her daughter was going hysterical as Ros rolled one finger lazily in Tyene’s bellybutton and used her free hand to tickle her underarms. The Dornish beauty was at a breaking point, especially seeing her daughter enduring such torture. Ellaria cried out for mercy and swore that she would be loyal to Littlefinger as king.
Littlefinger stood up and clapped a little. “Excellent. See that wasn’t so hard,” he said with glee. Little did Ellaria know, but he planned on keeping her permanently at the Red Keep after she united Dorne to his cause. She and her big, ticklish feet would be one of the many luxuries he planned to indulge in regularly as King of Westeros.
Just then, a guard rushed in to the bedchamber and immediately approached Littlefinger. He whispered in the king’s ear, “Your intuition was right, Your Grace. We caught them trying to escape through the north gate. It was just as you said. They were taken back to your brothel and are awaiting you.”
Littlefinger: “Well...even more good news it seems. Go and prepare them. I’ll be there shortly.”
Littlefinger left his room and returned to the brothel. When he walked in, he saw Sansa and Arya Stark each seated and tied in a chair. Their wrists were bound and placed in their laps. Their boots had been removed and their bare feet were propped up on stools. Littlefinger could see their hearts sink as he walked toward them. He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them.
Littlefinger: “Ah yes...Arya Stark. Nice of you to join us. Don’t think I didn’t notice when you went missing in the Throne Room. I notice EVERYTHING Lady Stark. I had a feeling you might be close when Tyene charged in stupidly. I figured you would surely come to the aid of your sister given the right opportunity.”
Arya seemed to be taken back by his comment. She wasn’t used to people outwitting her. Arya pulled against the ropes that secured her to the back of the chair but they wouldn’t budge. She gritted her teeth and shifted back and forth but it became clear that she was now just as powerless as Sansa had been. The thought of being tied down and forced to laugh like some little girl was humiliating to her. Arya couldn’t believe she was sitting here barefoot about to be tickle tortured.
Sansa had a pouty expression as she looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes nervously. Her pale, narrow soles were tied up and vulnerable once again. She had been so close to escaping King’s Landing. Sansa did not think it was possible to endure as much tickling as she already had but it looked like was going to endure even more now.
Littlefinger asked Sansa if she was willing to reconsider swearing fealty to him. She looked scared, like the naive little girl she once was when she first visited King’s Landing. Then she collected herself somewhat and tried to hide behind her icy exterior. “No,” Sansa said coldly as she stared Littlefinger in the eye.
Littlefinger wasn’t phased by Sansa’s response. He turned his gaze to Arya and cooly asked her, “So Arya Stark...you’ve developed quite a reputation by now. And I’m sure you know about mine. I hope it won’t be too easy to get you to laugh. Will it? Are you going to be begging me to stop when I tickle these little feet of yours?” Arya yelled back at him, “Never!”
Littlefinger asked them both, “So ladies...are you ready to begin?” With that, he pulled out his signature tickling tool. Littlefinger wafted his stiff, white feather teasingly in front of the girls as he decided who to start with. Littlefinger studied his captives tied up before him. Sansa was a tall, gorgeous redhead with poise, a lean body, and milky-white skin. Her big size 9 soles were long and more slender than her sister’s. They were naturally soft with fully developed toes that were capped with the cutest little rounded tips. Arya was much shorter with more humble looks and dark brown hair that had been pulled back into a tight knot. Her small size 6 feet were dwarfed when propped up next to her sister’s. Arya had fleshier, slightly wide soles with small, bubbled toes, exquisitely defined arches, and substantial heels.
The two sisters’ feet could not have looked any different from each other as they sat together bound next to each other. Sansa and Arya both locked their eyes on his feather. They raised their eyebrows with concern and let their mouths hang slightly open as they took quick, nervous breaths. The two Stark sisters turned their heads and looked at each other once more before the tickling started.
Sansa: “I’m so sorry, Arya. I never meant for you to end up like this.”
Arya: “I had to come. I couldn’t leave you here.”
Sansa: “Please promise me something. I know this sounds silly but please promise me this...don’t think less of me for laughing. I...I just...I know I’m supposed to be this proper Lady of Winterfell but...I just can’t help it.”
Arya: “I won’t! Sansa, I promise I won’t. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
“Did anyone ever tell you girls the real story of your mother, Catelyn and I growing up together?” Littlefinger asked them as he rolled the feather around in his hand and looked back and forth between them with cold, calculated look of a snake. The Stark girls looked at him suspiciously with puzzled expressions. He pointed the feather back and forth between the two sets of feet before him, as if he was trying to decide who he wanted to tickle first.
Littlefinger: “Allow me to educate you on what really happened between me and your mother. As you no doubt know, I grew up with your mother and Aunt Lysa. We were all three very close friends. I still had the...interests...I do today even back then but I never really acted on them until I was a man grown. One day, your Aunt Lysa came into my bedchambers unannounced and saw me with one of the servant girls who was close to my age and status at the castle. I had been eager to explore my urges and had convinced this girl to let me tie her to my bed naked and tickle her. When Lysa walked in, she saw the girl lying on my bed naked with her arms outstretched to the bedposts. I was lying next to her and tickling her armpits as she squealed and playfully begged me to stop.”
Sansa and Arya seemed uncomfortable as Littlefinger described his early experiences with his tickling fetish.
Littlefinger: “Your Aunt saw me lying there naked and tickling that girl. She saw my swollen manhood. At first Lysa gasped and then shut the door quickly. I thought I would soon be exposed and thrown out of the castle for my perversion. I cursed and hurried to get my robes. But moments later, Lysa opened the door again and looked at me with a wild passion. She quickly slipped inside my room and barred the door behind her. With the servant girl still tied naked on my bed, Lysa came over to me and pulled my unlaced pants back down to my ankles. She dropped to her knees and took my member in her mouth. The sudden passion, the risk, the excitement...Ah I remember it vividly.”
The girls had looks of disgust on their faces as they kept listening against their will.
Littlefinger: “From that day on, your Aunt Lysa wanted me all the time. Sometimes in traditional ways but often, she tried to please me and accommodate my interests. I could tell Lysa’s feelings for me were far more than mine for her. In fact, I had always been partial to Catelyn. But Lysa let me tickle her quite often. She welcomed it because she knew I loved it and it caused quite a stir in me. Lysa would ask me to tie her up and tickle her before having me take her passionately. She loved the payoff more than the process. And I didn’t mind the attention to be honest.”
“And one night, Lysa told me to sneak into her room to meet her. I crept up the castle stairways and came to her door. When I entered, I saw Catelyn was already in the room with Lysa. She told me she had convinced Catelyn to join us for the night. To be tied and tickled once since we were all friends. I was shocked and very excited as a young man, I’ll admit. And it was probably clear to them as well. Lysa and Catelyn laid back on the bed and let me tie their wrists overhead and their ankles to the edge of the bed. Catelyn was very nervous but Lysa reassured her that she could handle it.”
“I remember tickling them both. I started with their upper bodies. I tickled their soft underarms, their ribs, their tummies. It was heavenly. Catelyn seemed to be just a little more ticklish than her sister but both were breathing hard by the time I gave them a break. I could see that Lysa’s nipples were erect through her thin garment. Then I went down to their feet. Lysa laughed hard but Catelyn was clearly much more ticklish on her soles than her sister. I tickled them both but I ultimately had to stop when Catelyn was screaming at me for mercy. After I untied them, Catelyn left the room without speaking with me.”
Sansa and Arya looked annoyed now. They didn’t want to hear about how their mother used to be tickled by Littlefinger. He continued, “I knew Catelyn didn’t enjoy the experience but soon she returned to her usual self and we were all back to being friends. But I couldn’t get the thought of her out of my mind. Her ticklish feet were always on my mind and I took advantage of every opportunity I could in order to get my hands on them. When we would take walks in the forest, I would suddenly pin her and tickle her until she begged for mercy again. When we would wrestle playfully, I would pin her and take her shoes off so I could get at her feet. Once I trapped her on her bed; I sat on her ankles so her soles dangled off the edge and then raked my fingers across them until she was crying with laughter.”
“And then one day, I learned that she was to be married to Brandon Stark. I was insanely jealous that I would be losing my Catelyn to that brute. I wanted Catelyn. I wanted her ticklish feet for myself. Even if she couldn’t stand the feeling, maybe she could grow to tolerate the tickling if we were together. One night, I told Catelyn my feelings for her and expressed my affections for her ticklish feet, how they drove me crazy. She did not share feelings for me but she seemed to be understanding of the courage it took for me to openly express such a guarded secret.”
“I was heartbroken. Catelyn could see it in my eyes. So that night, as a sort of going away present to me before she would leave to be married at Winterfell, Catelyn was going to allow me one night to do whatever I wanted to her feet. She pitied me, the boy she had grown up with. I realized it was my last chance with her. I tickled Catelyn for hours, stroking her soles and hearing that mesmerizing laughter. Her feet felt delightful...soft, warm, and shapely. Catelyn screamed and begged me to stop half heartedly but would always allow me to keep going no matter how much it tickled.”
“Finally when I was about to burst, I asked her if she would make my fantasies come true and let me finish on her feet. Catelyn considered the bizarre request and then surprisingly she agreed to let me. I fucked her arches and tickled her soles lightly until I finished all over them. It was incredible. She was quite the woman. But then Brandon Stark found out about what we had done and how I was obsessed with tickling Catelyn. He was furious and saw it as disrespectful to his future wife. Brandon Stark came to Riverrun and beat me half dead. It was said I challenged him for Catelyn’s hand but that was never the case. But all involved thought it would be better than saying I was obsessed with Catelyn’s feet so that’s the version that was spread before their wedding.”
“I think I’ll start with you,” Littlefinger said as he pointed at Sansa. “You remind me so much of your mother.” She looked like she could cry as he started lowering the feather toward her bare soles. Arya looked very concerned as she looked back and forth from Littlefinger to her sister. Sansa’s long, narrow soles and thin toes looked so helpless and vulnerable tied down to the stool. They looked incredibly soft with their pale coloring and pinkish hues along her heels, balls of her feet, and toes.
As the feather began wafting up and down Sansa’s size 9 soles, she quickly melted into hysterics. The poor girl shifted her feet around and tried crossing them over each other for a split second of rest but the sensations were terrible. Sansa leaned back in her chair with her head tilted up toward the ceiling. Genuine, hearty laughter poured out of her as Littlefinger flicked his feather across the bottoms of her feet yet again. He was a master of following the natural curves of her heels, arches, and toes as he effortlessly elicited desperate, broken laughter from her.
“That’s it, Sansa. Laugh for me. We’re just getting started. Tickle tickle tickle...” Littlefinger teased. He traced the feather over Sansa’s pink heels and was delighted to see her jolt and twitch as she giggled. Most girls didn’t have very ticklish heels but it appeared Sansa Stark was an exception to that rule. No doubt her immaculate and tender high-born soles had something to do with that. Littlefinger wiggled the feather up across her creamy arches and relished her pathetic squeals. She really did have very ticklish feet.
“Aw, does the tough Lady of Winterfell from The North have sensitive soles? Is my feather driving you crazy?” Littlefinger said in jest as he masterfully guided the tip of his tool around the silky, wiggling canvas before him. Sansa’s cheeks were turning a pale red as she let her head hang back and laughed steadily. When Sansa tried to beg him to stop, she felt twice as embarrassed with Arya seeing her so desperate.
Arya could only sit there with a pouty, empathetic expression on her face as she watched her sister fidgeting and twisting in her seat while a feather was wafted up and down her soles over and over. The sound of Sansa’s hearty, girlish laughter was unsettling since she knew she would eventually be subjected to the feather too. Arya wanted to reach over and hold her sister’s hand but she couldn’t with her wrists being tied together. It was breaking her heart but there was nothing to do but sit there and wait for her turn next.
TO BE CONTINUED...
*Note to my readers: This story is loosely based off of the show series. This is fan fiction so I’ve altered the timeline and taken it in a direction which accommodates a story such as this. There are some parts that contain spoilers for anyone who hasn’t watched the show or isn’t up to date on episodes so fair warning. Enjoy!
Littlefinger pulled the blindfold off of Ellaria’s eyes. After a few blinks to clear her vision, she saw that her daughter, Tyene, had been captured. A guard on each side of her held her arms as a third began binding her wrists. Tyene gritted her teeth and tried to pull free but it was no use. The little Sand Snake was bound tightly and now a prisoner of Littlefinger.
Arya watched from the ceiling rafters still. She had tried to convince Tyene to stay out of sight, to be patient until a fail-proof opportunity presented itself. She and Tyene were skilled warriors but they still couldn’t hope to cut through several guards and escape the city before they were captured or killed. Stupid Tyene...she just couldn’t stand watching her mother tickled mercilessly. But look where that got her. Arya felt awful for the girl but her main concern now was that Tyene didn’t give up information about her. Arya knew she would probably have to make her move soon. She couldn’t risk Tyene saying something that would lead to her capture.
Littlefinger looked the petite, tan girl up and down. “So...planning to cut us all down with a dagger? You have your mother’s bravery but not her intelligence I’m afraid. Guards, take this one and her mother up to my chambers. The rest of them can be secured for the night.” Littlefinger paused for a moment as if he sensed something. Then he continued walking and left his establishment for the night.
Ellaria and Tyene both shouted and tried to jerk away as they were taken out to a small wagon together and carted up to King Baelish’s room. After they realized that they could not escape, they both consoled each other. Tyene admitted that she was scared that she might be tickled now. She had just seen her mother screaming with laughter for days while she had been tickled. Ellaria tried to comfort her and reassure her daughter that it was going to be okay but she knew better. Soon both of them would be getting tickled horribly.
When the Dornish beauties had been taken away, Arya silently descended down from her hiding spot in the rafters. She landed softly on the stone floor like a cat, poised and listening intently. She could hear the guards removing the remaining captive queens from their stocks. Arya was hidden in the shadows behind a large curtain hanging down as a divider. She watched and observed everything before her...how many guards, their weapons, cover she could use...all while she calculated her plan of attack.
The first guard was blindsided with a dagger to the neck as Arya pounced on him like a leopard. The sound of the guard’s armor clinking as he crumbled to the floor attracted the attention of one of the remaining guards. A quick slash as he entered the shadows sent him to the afterlife as well. The last guard sensed something was wrong and drew his sword as he slowly wondered toward the dark corner of the room where his comrades had gone silent. His blade was pointed toward the shadows as he approached with caution. Then a dagger flew out from nowhere and struck him in the throat. He gasped and rolled wildly as he died quickly.
Arya emerged from the darkness and rushed over to the tickle coffins where the remaining queens were. The heavy wooden lids had not been put into place yet to seal them in for the night. Arya saw that Sansa, Cersei, and Daenerys were already wrapped up in their usual mummification routine. Their eyes, noses, breasts, and feet were the only visible parts of their body as they lay helpless and exhausted in the boxes, finally ready for a night’s reprieve from the tickling.
Arya used her dagger to cut Sansa free from the wrappings binding her in her cocoon-like state. Sansa instantly began sobbing when she saw Arya had come to her rescue. She didn’t think she could take another day of unbearable tickling, as silly as that sounded to her. Sansa quickly slipped on her clothes once her sister calmed her down.
As Sansa was retrieving her boots, she stopped and looked at Cersei and Daenerys wiggling in their tickle coffins, shouting muffled, broken pleas to be let out as well. Cersei’s kicked her feet and her eyes almost bulged out of her head as she grunted and shouted into the wrappings covering her mouth. Daenerys was trying her hardest to wiggle her arms free as she made muffled whiny noises into the cloth gagging her.
Sansa: “What should we do about them? If we leave them, they’ll just be tickled longer and eventually side with Littlefinger.”
Arya: “We can’t take them. We’ll need to be as quiet as possible when sneaking past the guards. They could give us away. Now that I mention it, we can’t just leave them like this either.”
Sansa: “What do you mean? I thought you just said we couldn’t let them come with us.”
Arya: “We can’t. But we can’t leave them like this now. They’ve seen us. If more guards come in, they’ll question these two about what happened and sound the alarm. Even if we escape King’s Landing, we’ll lose our head start. We have to keep them from talking to any guards after we leave. We’ll have to put them to sleep for a while so they can’t talk. You know, make them pass out. I have an idea...”
Arya went over to Cersei Lannister’s tickle coffin and climbed on top of the sturdy table it rested on. Cersei of course had heard the Stark girls talking and knew they were going to try and put her unconscious. She wiggled and mumbled indecipherable complaints into the cloth wrapped around her mouth. Arya had a satisfied smirk as she addressed the queen that she so passionately hated.
Arya: “Cersei Lannister...I’ve wanted to kill you for so long. But not today. I think killing you would be a mercy compared to what Littlefinger has in store for you from now on. Whether you swear loyalty to him or not. No, I think I’ll let you live for now but...I can’t have you talking about how I killed these guards and freed Sansa either. I need to make certain that you’ll be quiet at least for a little while. Now how should I smother that perfect little nose of yours so that you can’t breathe? With my hands? Or with my feet?”
Cersei’s glare became more intense as she shook her head and wiggled harder. Arya smiled as she slipped off her boots and climbed barefoot into the tickle coffin. She rested lightly on Cersei and flicked her bare feet out, hovering them just above Cersei’s face. The bratty Lannister queen could see Arya’s meaty size 6 soles were pale and shapely, with just a hint of pink highlighting the prominent areas. Short bubbly toes and rounded heels with just a hint of moistness about them from being in her warm boots. Cersei had guessed Arya would have small feet but they were also a little wide, plenty of real estate there to smother her nose since she couldn’t breathe through her mouth.
Cersei whined and bucked as Arya lowered her slightly stinky, warm soles down firmly over Cersei’s face. Her high arches came together to form a decent seal over Cersei’s nose, forcing her to only breath in the smell of Arya’s soles in shallow breaths. Sansa saw the appeal of Arya’s plan and followed suit. She clambered up into Daenerys’ tickle coffin, who by now knew exactly what was coming and was squirming like crazy. Daenerys whined and had a pleading look in her eyes as she tried to non-verbally appeal to Sansa, the women who she once considered an ally.
Sansa wrapped her arms around the backs of her knees and pulled her bare feet up so Daenerys could see them. Sansa had a satisfied smirk as she said, “So the Queen of Dragons thought she could just seduce my brother and take over The North...MY North. You’re an outsider and I never trusted you. You blinded my brother with lust and love but I don’t blame him for that. He thought he loved you and it’s rather difficult even for a good man to deny a queen that ravishes him every night. Oh I could hear through the wall how you rode him like a stallion.” Sansa continued bitterly as she wiggled her toes, “I couldn’t help but be woken up by your screaming and moaning. How you would take him in your mouth again and again so deep that you gagged. Or when you would invite Missandei into your bed to please him double. It was manipulation and nothing more. And The North remembers...”
With that, Sansa lowered her large, size 9 soles down and completely covered Daenerys’ face. Daenerys whined and struggled but soon realized the only air she would be getting would be from the small pocket between her nose and Sansa’s smelly arches. Sansa wiggled her long toes on Daenerys’ face and gave her sarcastic reassurances as the silver-haired Targaryen girl was forced to inhale the foot stink.
Arya laughed as she watched Cersei Lannister shake her head and panic for fresh air as she made sounds almost like coughing. She skillfully kept her tiny, wide size 6 soles in place no matter how much Cersei struggled. Sansa’s long soles covered nearly all of Daenery’s face. Daenerys would try to hold her breath for as long as possible and then was forced to take a deep inhale every so often. Sansa teased her and suggested her next title should be “Smeller of Sansa’s Feet”.
After several minutes of fighting for air, Cersei and Daenerys began to weaken and still themselves. Daenerys went limp with Sansa’s large soles still covering her face. Cersei’s shouts became more and more desperate as Arya rubbed her feet around playfully. Finally the golden-haired bitch succumbed to the foot stink and passed out. Arya and Sansa pulled on their boots and slipped out of the brothel into the night.
Meanwhile in Littlefinger’s bedchamber.....
Tyene screamed laughter again as Ros dug her nails into her freshly oiled ribs and danced them around mercilessly. The short, exotic beauty turned out to be just as ticklish as her mother, a quality she wholeheartedly regretted inheriting. Ros skittered her fingernails up and over Tyene’s perky, tan tits. The oil glistened on her fleshy mounds and her small, dark nipples. Tyene tried to grit her teeth but the laughter came out in hissing giggles. Her impressive breasts jiggled and bounced as she hopped and shook with laughter.
Tyene and her mother, Ellaria, were each tied to one of the wooden bedposts. Their arms were outstretched above their heads and secured to the top of the posts. Ellaria watched with despair as Tyene was subjected to the same intense tickle torture she herself had been enduring for days now. Unfortunately, her daughter wasn’t having any better time with it.
Ellaria tensed as she felt Melisandre rubbing another coat of fresh oil on her sides and tummy. The hands touching her sensitive, muscular stomach and sides brought her back to the reality of her own situation. The Red Woman had already been going at her upper body for some time now alongside her daughter but now it was time to start again. Ellaria whimpered and begged for Melisandre not to tickle her again but soon, the relentless fingernails were scratching along her sides near her hips.
Ellaria slipped back into girlish giggles and tried shifting one way and then the other. Melisandre’s long nails slid effortlessly in random patterns over the slick tummy and sides of the captive Dornish Queen. Ellaria was starting to break down and cry from sheer exhaustion as Melisandre wiggled a finger in her wet bellybutton and ran her other hand along the waistline of her pants, just above her groin. Ellaria was going mad with laughter.
Tyene squealed and giggled while Ros stood next to her and danced her fingers over her oiled up chest. Ros cupped her breasts, which were quite a handful for such a small woman, and teasingly flicked the erect nipples. Tyene giggled and tried to twist away but it was useless. She cried out, “Mom! Mom, make her stop! Hahahahaha this is awful!” Ros felt Tyene tremble as she ran her fingernails along the undersides and outer edges of her slippery tits, making the poor girl laugh even harder.
Ellaria’s visible abdominal muscles crunches and contorted as she shook with laughter and squirmed around uncomfortably while Melisandre’s unrelenting fingernails raked gently over her tummy and ribs. The Red Woman even brought them up and caressed them teasingly over Ellaria’s small mounds. She did not have quite the same intense reaction to the area as her daughter but still giggled quite a lot. Ellaria really burst back into laughter and struggled to catch her breath when Melisandre suddenly jumped up to her taught, exposed underarms. The slick, smooth hollows were a goldmine of ticklish sensitivity. Ellaria screamed and then laughed pathetically as tears of frustration started streaming down her face.
Littlefinger watched with sick, twisted pleasure from his seat in front of the women. He was quite pleased that Ellaria’s daughter had turned up. And he would have loved nothing more than to subject her to this tickle torture for trying to kill him in his own brothel. Littlefinger taunted the mother and daughter by saying, “Ellaria, my sweet...need this continue? Swear loyalty to me as your king. Put Dorne under my rule and this can end. Think of Tyene here. She’s certainly having a tough time. Or would you rather we try a Dornish custom next? How about we bury you and your daughter in some sand down by the bay? But instead of putting scorpions on your faces, we’ll leave your feet sticking out? Would you prefer we tickle your feet for a couple hours next?”
Ellaria could hardly think straight with fingernails squirming continuously in her armpits but she managed to look over and see Tyene. Her daughter was going hysterical as Ros rolled one finger lazily in Tyene’s bellybutton and used her free hand to tickle her underarms. The Dornish beauty was at a breaking point, especially seeing her daughter enduring such torture. Ellaria cried out for mercy and swore that she would be loyal to Littlefinger as king.
Littlefinger stood up and clapped a little. “Excellent. See that wasn’t so hard,” he said with glee. Little did Ellaria know, but he planned on keeping her permanently at the Red Keep after she united Dorne to his cause. She and her big, ticklish feet would be one of the many luxuries he planned to indulge in regularly as King of Westeros.
Just then, a guard rushed in to the bedchamber and immediately approached Littlefinger. He whispered in the king’s ear, “Your intuition was right, Your Grace. We caught them trying to escape through the north gate. It was just as you said. They were taken back to your brothel and are awaiting you.”
Littlefinger: “Well...even more good news it seems. Go and prepare them. I’ll be there shortly.”
Littlefinger left his room and returned to the brothel. When he walked in, he saw Sansa and Arya Stark each seated and tied in a chair. Their wrists were bound and placed in their laps. Their boots had been removed and their bare feet were propped up on stools. Littlefinger could see their hearts sink as he walked toward them. He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them.
Littlefinger: “Ah yes...Arya Stark. Nice of you to join us. Don’t think I didn’t notice when you went missing in the Throne Room. I notice EVERYTHING Lady Stark. I had a feeling you might be close when Tyene charged in stupidly. I figured you would surely come to the aid of your sister given the right opportunity.”
Arya seemed to be taken back by his comment. She wasn’t used to people outwitting her. Arya pulled against the ropes that secured her to the back of the chair but they wouldn’t budge. She gritted her teeth and shifted back and forth but it became clear that she was now just as powerless as Sansa had been. The thought of being tied down and forced to laugh like some little girl was humiliating to her. Arya couldn’t believe she was sitting here barefoot about to be tickle tortured.
Sansa had a pouty expression as she looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes nervously. Her pale, narrow soles were tied up and vulnerable once again. She had been so close to escaping King’s Landing. Sansa did not think it was possible to endure as much tickling as she already had but it looked like was going to endure even more now.
Littlefinger asked Sansa if she was willing to reconsider swearing fealty to him. She looked scared, like the naive little girl she once was when she first visited King’s Landing. Then she collected herself somewhat and tried to hide behind her icy exterior. “No,” Sansa said coldly as she stared Littlefinger in the eye.
Littlefinger wasn’t phased by Sansa’s response. He turned his gaze to Arya and cooly asked her, “So Arya Stark...you’ve developed quite a reputation by now. And I’m sure you know about mine. I hope it won’t be too easy to get you to laugh. Will it? Are you going to be begging me to stop when I tickle these little feet of yours?” Arya yelled back at him, “Never!”
Littlefinger asked them both, “So ladies...are you ready to begin?” With that, he pulled out his signature tickling tool. Littlefinger wafted his stiff, white feather teasingly in front of the girls as he decided who to start with. Littlefinger studied his captives tied up before him. Sansa was a tall, gorgeous redhead with poise, a lean body, and milky-white skin. Her big size 9 soles were long and more slender than her sister’s. They were naturally soft with fully developed toes that were capped with the cutest little rounded tips. Arya was much shorter with more humble looks and dark brown hair that had been pulled back into a tight knot. Her small size 6 feet were dwarfed when propped up next to her sister’s. Arya had fleshier, slightly wide soles with small, bubbled toes, exquisitely defined arches, and substantial heels.
The two sisters’ feet could not have looked any different from each other as they sat together bound next to each other. Sansa and Arya both locked their eyes on his feather. They raised their eyebrows with concern and let their mouths hang slightly open as they took quick, nervous breaths. The two Stark sisters turned their heads and looked at each other once more before the tickling started.
Sansa: “I’m so sorry, Arya. I never meant for you to end up like this.”
Arya: “I had to come. I couldn’t leave you here.”
Sansa: “Please promise me something. I know this sounds silly but please promise me this...don’t think less of me for laughing. I...I just...I know I’m supposed to be this proper Lady of Winterfell but...I just can’t help it.”
Arya: “I won’t! Sansa, I promise I won’t. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
“Did anyone ever tell you girls the real story of your mother, Catelyn and I growing up together?” Littlefinger asked them as he rolled the feather around in his hand and looked back and forth between them with cold, calculated look of a snake. The Stark girls looked at him suspiciously with puzzled expressions. He pointed the feather back and forth between the two sets of feet before him, as if he was trying to decide who he wanted to tickle first.
Littlefinger: “Allow me to educate you on what really happened between me and your mother. As you no doubt know, I grew up with your mother and Aunt Lysa. We were all three very close friends. I still had the...interests...I do today even back then but I never really acted on them until I was a man grown. One day, your Aunt Lysa came into my bedchambers unannounced and saw me with one of the servant girls who was close to my age and status at the castle. I had been eager to explore my urges and had convinced this girl to let me tie her to my bed naked and tickle her. When Lysa walked in, she saw the girl lying on my bed naked with her arms outstretched to the bedposts. I was lying next to her and tickling her armpits as she squealed and playfully begged me to stop.”
Sansa and Arya seemed uncomfortable as Littlefinger described his early experiences with his tickling fetish.
Littlefinger: “Your Aunt saw me lying there naked and tickling that girl. She saw my swollen manhood. At first Lysa gasped and then shut the door quickly. I thought I would soon be exposed and thrown out of the castle for my perversion. I cursed and hurried to get my robes. But moments later, Lysa opened the door again and looked at me with a wild passion. She quickly slipped inside my room and barred the door behind her. With the servant girl still tied naked on my bed, Lysa came over to me and pulled my unlaced pants back down to my ankles. She dropped to her knees and took my member in her mouth. The sudden passion, the risk, the excitement...Ah I remember it vividly.”
The girls had looks of disgust on their faces as they kept listening against their will.
Littlefinger: “From that day on, your Aunt Lysa wanted me all the time. Sometimes in traditional ways but often, she tried to please me and accommodate my interests. I could tell Lysa’s feelings for me were far more than mine for her. In fact, I had always been partial to Catelyn. But Lysa let me tickle her quite often. She welcomed it because she knew I loved it and it caused quite a stir in me. Lysa would ask me to tie her up and tickle her before having me take her passionately. She loved the payoff more than the process. And I didn’t mind the attention to be honest.”
“And one night, Lysa told me to sneak into her room to meet her. I crept up the castle stairways and came to her door. When I entered, I saw Catelyn was already in the room with Lysa. She told me she had convinced Catelyn to join us for the night. To be tied and tickled once since we were all friends. I was shocked and very excited as a young man, I’ll admit. And it was probably clear to them as well. Lysa and Catelyn laid back on the bed and let me tie their wrists overhead and their ankles to the edge of the bed. Catelyn was very nervous but Lysa reassured her that she could handle it.”
“I remember tickling them both. I started with their upper bodies. I tickled their soft underarms, their ribs, their tummies. It was heavenly. Catelyn seemed to be just a little more ticklish than her sister but both were breathing hard by the time I gave them a break. I could see that Lysa’s nipples were erect through her thin garment. Then I went down to their feet. Lysa laughed hard but Catelyn was clearly much more ticklish on her soles than her sister. I tickled them both but I ultimately had to stop when Catelyn was screaming at me for mercy. After I untied them, Catelyn left the room without speaking with me.”
Sansa and Arya looked annoyed now. They didn’t want to hear about how their mother used to be tickled by Littlefinger. He continued, “I knew Catelyn didn’t enjoy the experience but soon she returned to her usual self and we were all back to being friends. But I couldn’t get the thought of her out of my mind. Her ticklish feet were always on my mind and I took advantage of every opportunity I could in order to get my hands on them. When we would take walks in the forest, I would suddenly pin her and tickle her until she begged for mercy again. When we would wrestle playfully, I would pin her and take her shoes off so I could get at her feet. Once I trapped her on her bed; I sat on her ankles so her soles dangled off the edge and then raked my fingers across them until she was crying with laughter.”
“And then one day, I learned that she was to be married to Brandon Stark. I was insanely jealous that I would be losing my Catelyn to that brute. I wanted Catelyn. I wanted her ticklish feet for myself. Even if she couldn’t stand the feeling, maybe she could grow to tolerate the tickling if we were together. One night, I told Catelyn my feelings for her and expressed my affections for her ticklish feet, how they drove me crazy. She did not share feelings for me but she seemed to be understanding of the courage it took for me to openly express such a guarded secret.”
“I was heartbroken. Catelyn could see it in my eyes. So that night, as a sort of going away present to me before she would leave to be married at Winterfell, Catelyn was going to allow me one night to do whatever I wanted to her feet. She pitied me, the boy she had grown up with. I realized it was my last chance with her. I tickled Catelyn for hours, stroking her soles and hearing that mesmerizing laughter. Her feet felt delightful...soft, warm, and shapely. Catelyn screamed and begged me to stop half heartedly but would always allow me to keep going no matter how much it tickled.”
“Finally when I was about to burst, I asked her if she would make my fantasies come true and let me finish on her feet. Catelyn considered the bizarre request and then surprisingly she agreed to let me. I fucked her arches and tickled her soles lightly until I finished all over them. It was incredible. She was quite the woman. But then Brandon Stark found out about what we had done and how I was obsessed with tickling Catelyn. He was furious and saw it as disrespectful to his future wife. Brandon Stark came to Riverrun and beat me half dead. It was said I challenged him for Catelyn’s hand but that was never the case. But all involved thought it would be better than saying I was obsessed with Catelyn’s feet so that’s the version that was spread before their wedding.”
“I think I’ll start with you,” Littlefinger said as he pointed at Sansa. “You remind me so much of your mother.” She looked like she could cry as he started lowering the feather toward her bare soles. Arya looked very concerned as she looked back and forth from Littlefinger to her sister. Sansa’s long, narrow soles and thin toes looked so helpless and vulnerable tied down to the stool. They looked incredibly soft with their pale coloring and pinkish hues along her heels, balls of her feet, and toes.
As the feather began wafting up and down Sansa’s size 9 soles, she quickly melted into hysterics. The poor girl shifted her feet around and tried crossing them over each other for a split second of rest but the sensations were terrible. Sansa leaned back in her chair with her head tilted up toward the ceiling. Genuine, hearty laughter poured out of her as Littlefinger flicked his feather across the bottoms of her feet yet again. He was a master of following the natural curves of her heels, arches, and toes as he effortlessly elicited desperate, broken laughter from her.
“That’s it, Sansa. Laugh for me. We’re just getting started. Tickle tickle tickle...” Littlefinger teased. He traced the feather over Sansa’s pink heels and was delighted to see her jolt and twitch as she giggled. Most girls didn’t have very ticklish heels but it appeared Sansa Stark was an exception to that rule. No doubt her immaculate and tender high-born soles had something to do with that. Littlefinger wiggled the feather up across her creamy arches and relished her pathetic squeals. She really did have very ticklish feet.
“Aw, does the tough Lady of Winterfell from The North have sensitive soles? Is my feather driving you crazy?” Littlefinger said in jest as he masterfully guided the tip of his tool around the silky, wiggling canvas before him. Sansa’s cheeks were turning a pale red as she let her head hang back and laughed steadily. When Sansa tried to beg him to stop, she felt twice as embarrassed with Arya seeing her so desperate.
Arya could only sit there with a pouty, empathetic expression on her face as she watched her sister fidgeting and twisting in her seat while a feather was wafted up and down her soles over and over. The sound of Sansa’s hearty, girlish laughter was unsettling since she knew she would eventually be subjected to the feather too. Arya wanted to reach over and hold her sister’s hand but she couldn’t with her wrists being tied together. It was breaking her heart but there was nothing to do but sit there and wait for her turn next.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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