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City of Sororities: Infernal Rapport (f/f, fantasy)
- Thread starter Kunzite
- Start date
deadlywiffeathr
Level of Lemon Feather
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- Dec 29, 2006
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Brilliant chapter! Definatley my favorite so far too 😀
I'm loving the humorous banter between Khylia and Jeina. They certainly do make a great team, can't wait to see where this leads!
Excellent descriptions as always Kunzite, keep the chapters...coming! 😛
I'm loving the humorous banter between Khylia and Jeina. They certainly do make a great team, can't wait to see where this leads!
Excellent descriptions as always Kunzite, keep the chapters...coming! 😛
Thank you! Of course that means even more from such an avid reader as you 🙂
Oh, that's what the chapters will be, all right! 😀 I'm very glad that you're enjoying these two heroines; it's always fantastic to hear from you! And of course, let me welcome you into the proud ranks of TMF authors! 🙂
uticklish2
3rd Level Green Feather
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Smoking Hot!...
Thank you, man! As always, it means a lot to me when you enjoy my stuff!
Definitely what I was going for 😀Smoking Hot!...
10 armed tkler
1st Level Orange Feather
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I want to wait until this is finished for I enjoyed the first series so much and it is you who is writing this. I rarely read anything here anymore unless it is specific people. I can not wait till it is finished.
Can't take the suspense, huh? 😀 Thank you for the kind words! Here's definitely hoping that you enjoy it once it's complete!
Chapter 5
Dark clouds gathered over the city of Port Bastion, and the stifling heat slowly gave way to a chill wind that spread an unseasonable cold through its streets. The stark shadows once cast by the blinding sun became a gray haze that shrouded the city like a miasma. The city’s great buildings, so triumphant by daylight, became bleak and craggy fixtures that towered above the streets. Even the great Sorority Houses, the beacons of the city, appeared distant and ominous. Although the temperature had fallen, few people ventured outside, instead remaining inside the city’s homes and taverns to peer out their windows at the darkening sky. Throughout all of Port Bastion, no one could shake a great sense of foreboding.
But deep within the Sorority of Sages, the foreboding was of a very different kind. Jeina woke up to an all-too-familiar sensation: she was completely tied up. She had been captured again. Next to her was the prostrate form of Khylia, just beginning to stir from her slumbers. Apparently the succubus had fared no better than she had when it came to resisting the tickling magic.
Both of them were in a kneeling position, side-by-side, with their wrists shackled together above their heads. Their ankles were held in padded metal cuffs, with their soles turned upwards. And both of them were completely stripped of their clothing. The only difference between them, Jeina noticed from the corner of her eye, was that beneath Khylia on the floor lay a small silver bowl.
Jeina looked sideways at Khylia, and a part of her thrilled to see the object of her desire naked at last. It was a guilty thrill that was all the more compelling considering the inappropriateness of the situation, but she could not deny it. She cast her eyes longingly over the smooth supple skin; the perfectly shaped breasts that hung just out of reach; the curvature of her soft, round backside that wiggled so alluringly as she put up a token struggle to break her bondage. Even the wings, which had been so strange at first, were undeniably a part of her unearthly beauty: an essential brushstroke in a magnificent painting. Jeina wished more than anything that her hands were free: not so that she could escape, but that she could reach out and touch that body whose siren song called to her.
But her pleasant reverie was cut short when Jeina realized there were other people in the room. And they were not friendly. All around them stood an array of short, thin, bookish girls wearing sages’ robes and leers of newfound power. And among them was a face that Jeina knew to expect even before she saw it: the smiling, vindicated face of May Hazelwood.
“I hope you enjoyed your brief taste of freedom, girls,” said May. “Because I can assure you, another one is not in the cards for you.”
Jeina looked around at their surroundings. They had been placed in a cell with bare stone walls: the bondage implements that held them were the only fixtures in the entire room. A single, steel-reinforced door marked the exit, and the only light came in from small, barred windows a good twenty feet off the ground. Getting out of here was clearly not going to be easy.
“Oh yes, this time we’re serious,” said May, as she saw Jeina take in her surroundings. “Did you really think that the two of you managed to escape without our letting you?”
“And why would you do that?” asked Khylia coldly.
“Because of you, my dear,” answered May, stroking Khylia’s hair condescendingly. Khylia snapped her head away.
“The Red Enchantress told us all about your demonic powers, you see,” May continued. “Oh yes, we knew what we were facing when we summoned you here. And we weren’t about to go head-to-head with your magic, at least not until we were completely certain that you had used it all up. So we let you burn through your powers to escape those stocks. But even then, there was always the chance that you still had more. So we cleared the way for you. We recalled all of our sisters from the wing that we had you held in. The Red Enchantress even had me withdraw when she sensed that you were getting close to your new friend here. After all, what was it to us if she went free for a short time?
“And then, we had you locked in the alchemy lab. We used our powers to tickle you both from afar. We knew that if the succubus had any demonic power left, she would have used it to save herself. But no, she let herself be tickled to unconsciousness. And that’s when the Red Enchantress knew it was safe for us to bring you here. You’re ours now: completely helpless.”
“Is this what you’ve been reduced to, May?” demanded Jeina. “Taking orders like a servant?”
May sneered at her. “Nice try.”
“So what was so important about me that had you so afraid?” asked Khylia with disdain. “I’m dying to know.”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” said May. Then she reconsidered. “Actually, you probably won’t. But no matter. Girls! I think it’s time we show our guests some hospitality!”
Suddenly, Jeina and Khylia were both extremely aware of their discomforting circumstances. A circle of leering girls formed around them, obviously waiting for a show. Some stayed back, while others drew in closer, and behind them they could feel two girls coming directly up to them, until…
“YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” Both Jeina and Khylia erupted into wild laughter as each of the girls behind them pressed a fingertip into the centers of their soft, upturned feet. It was a gesture of pure domination: mockingly simple, demonstrating just how vulnerable they were to only a simple touch on their delicate soles. The girls touching their soles grinned with delight at the effect they were having, reveling in how effortless it was to break these lovely specimens. And then, eager for even wilder screams, they slowly dragged their fingertips down the length of the soles. Jeina and Khylia nearly lost their minds.
“You can’t resist that, can you?” asked May over the sounds of their hysterical laughter. She laughed imperiously. “Of course not, nobody can! Not after our Brew has made your feet so unbearably ticklish. And this is just a taste of our ultimate weapon. Soon we’ll have all the city’s leaders here, screaming for mercy, begging to tell us their secrets, and no one can stop us! But then, I think you have other things to worry about right now.”
“WOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!” Jeina howled as more fingers joined the assault on her tender feet. They slithered in every direction, with the girls applying their devious techniques to searching out soft spots without mercy. She threw back her head and cried out in pure madness as she felt a fingernail sink into the tender spot just beneath the ball of her right foot. A moment later, she heard screams of insanity coming from Khylia, as the girls had apparently discovered an equally devastating spot on her soft, creamy soles.
“Tickle tickle tickle!” giggled one of the sages behind them. “Let’s really make those feet dance, girls!”
“OH NOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!!!” Khylia bayed at the ceiling like a wild beast, her toes splaying wildly as she desperately tried to free her feet. Deprived of her powers, she was completely helpless in a way she had never known before: she was at the mercy of these mortal girls and their diabolical tickle-torture.
“You didn’t know we were such experts at our craft, did you?” lorded May over them. “Well, we study more than magic here, I’m pleased to say. We have ancient texts that describe pressure points and reflex manipulation: hundreds of ways to torment a ticklish pair of feet that you’ve never even dreamed of, all recorded in our libraries. And we’re ready to test them all on you. Girls! Show our guests what you’ve learned!”
Suddenly, the fingers tickling their upturned feet changed their attack: the sharp presses gave way to a soft, fluttering touch: like the gentle caress of a feather on their sensitive tootsies. It seemed to tickle in a hundred places at once, like the brush of a living feather-duster: all the softness of feathers mixed with the cruel precision of fingertips. Every perfect stroke was maddeningly soft, designed to plunge the mind into insanity. It was the worst of both worlds.
“STAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAPPP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” screamed Jeina, as the feathery assault blinded her with tears.
“NOT THE FEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEETTT!!!” begged Khylia, howling with wild hysteria beside her. Tears rained down from her cheeks, filling the silver bowl beneath her with the deluge.
The girls’ fingers swept across the soft surfaces with unmatched grace and skill: tracing impossibly elaborate patterns like dancers in a perfectly-choreographed ballet. They moved in quick circles, long arcs, and quick pivots, always knowing exactly where to go next. Every touch was the gentlest of caresses: always hovering a fraction of an inch above the quivering skin, always keeping perfect distance until their ballet would call for a quick stroke to a perfectly calculated spot. It was as though a windswept storm of the softest feathers had engulfed their feet, leaving them to endure its gentle fury. It was magic in its own way, and as powerful as any spell.
“Do you like that one, girls?” asked May. “Legend says, this particular technique was used to defeat the Queen Druidess of the Indigo Circle. One of the most powerful spellcasters of her day, no weapon could stand against her. That is, until one of her subordinates developed a tickling technique that could break the strongest will. She was tied up and her royal soles were subjected to this torture for an entire night; the forest echoed with her laughter as she begged for mercy. She was helpless to fight back against the fluttering touch on her hopelessly soft feet. And finally, when she could take it no longer, she relinquished her powers to save herself from the unbearable tickling.”
“YEEEEEAAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAAAA!!!!!” Neither Jeina nor Khylia, however, were in any shape for a history lesson. Their soles were flushed bright pink, inviting more girls to join the assault: spreading their tender toes and tickling each one with loving precision. Never before had their ticklish feet experienced anything that could compare to this.
“No one knows if the story is true or not,” said May with mocking detachment. “But there’s no denying how effective our technique is. Why, I’ll bet you would give up a kingdom in a second if it would save your ticklish tootsies, hmm? But that’s not an option for you. No, all you can do is laugh for us.”
And laugh they did, as every inch of tender sole-flesh was tickled without mercy. Their howls of laughter and sweaty, thrashing bodies brought in even more girls, eager to drink in such sensual delights. A girl kneeled down each in front of Jeina and Khylia, a look of hunger on their faces as they grasped the girls’ sides, tickling them from their stomach up to their ribs and down again, amplifying their laughter even louder. And then, they plunged their mouths onto the girls’ taut stomachs with delight, licking and swirling their tongues around the girl’s belly buttons, planting soft kisses upon them and tickling them with the tips of their nimble tongues. The girls’ stomachs shook with laughter beneath their lips, making their tormentors hungrier still for the salty sweetness of their flesh.
“STAAAHAHAHAHAP!!! STAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAPPP!!!!!” screamed Jeina through gales of laughter. But despite herself, she could feel herself becoming enormously aroused. The wild loss of control, the overwhelming assault on her ticklish body was turning her on like she could not have imagined. She could feel the wetness between her legs: the tingling and the rising heat that demanded more. Even if she was tickled to death, she had to have more.
“WOOOHOOHOOHOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOO!!!!!” Khylia’s hooting laughter reached a fever pitch as the girl in front of her discovered, to her delight, that Khylia’s navel was an intensely ticklish spot on her stunning body. The girl knelt in front of her, licking it with wild abandon as Khylia’s massive, quaking breasts rested atop the girl’s head. And between her legs, Jeina could also see a glistening patch of wetness: her companion was every bit as aroused as she was.
And so, it appeared, was May, who seemed no longer content to stand by and watch any longer. “Make way for me, girls!” she declared. “It’s about time for me to join in the fun!” And eagerly she strode behind the girls. She lustily surveyed the bounty before her: two struggling, naked, hopelessly ticklish bodies with any spot she wanted for the taking. May reached into the pocket of her dress and removed two long, fluffy feathers: holding one in each hand as she took her place behind them.
“My, it looks like you’re enjoying this,” said May, looking at the droplets of moisture that fell from between the two captive girls’ legs. “Then let me make this even more intense. You see, there’s one spot that the Witches’ Brew is almost guaranteed to make…unbearable.”
Jeina hardly had time to run May’s warning through her laughter-addled mind before she felt it: a shock that turned her laughter to a piercing shriek of pure ticklish agony. For the feather behind her was tickling her delicate, well-toned ass.
“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!” From the deafening volume of their screams, it was clear that May had found a true weak spot: a vulnerability which neither girl could defend against. Jeina and Khylia bellowed with laughter in unison, both of them slaves to this new insidious torture.
“Ooh, yes, it’s hard to tell which of you has the most ticklish ass,” said May, licking her lips as the soft feathers slithered up and down the girls’ tender backsides like amorous serpents. Their two luscious asses wiggled side by side: both of them stunningly perfect in their own way, and both of them helpless against the soft, wispy caress of the feather.
“NO MORE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” screamed Jeina.
“OH PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!!” begged Khylia,
“We have you, officer, with your toned, firm buns; your hard athlete’s body: so tempting and delicious, I knew I wanted to tickle them from the moment I first laid eyes on you! And who would have imagined that they were so unbearably ticklish? Even before the Witches’ Brew, I’ll bet that anyone who slipped a feather under that thong of yours could drive you wild, couldn’t they? And now your ass is all mine, and I could just feather it forever.”
“BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” Jeina could only scream in response. Bun-feathering had been part of her Guards’ training: she could still remember being in the row of chained-up girls, their panties slipped down to their thighs, being forced to endure the torture of a tickling feather-tip between her sensitive cheeks and being certain that she would die of laughter. It was a Guard’s duty to be exposed to every form of tickle torture, so that they would be forearmed to resist it in the field. But even those nightmarish ordeals, that terrified even the bravest of their girls, were nothing compared to this. Nothing had prepared her for May’s feather sliding between her firm cheeks.
“But you, my unearthly beauty, now this is an ass you don’t see every day,” said May, turning to Khylia. She swept the feather up and down between the succubus’ tight buns as she spoke, and Khylia thrashed and screamed like a woman possessed. “So smooth, so impossibly soft and round and tender. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such flawless skin before. And I’ve definitely never had a chance to feather a demon’s ticklish ass before. I’m so happy to see you have the same reaction to a feather as the girls from our world do.”
“WOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!!! NOO!!!!! NOOO!!!!! NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!!!” howled Khylia, as the silver bowl beneath her overflowed with her tears. Unlike Jeina, Khylia had no training in resisting the more diabolical forms of tickle torture: she had never known what it was like to have a torturer’s feather dancing between her asscheeks. It was unimaginable torment: every stroke up and down her flawless posterior threatened to tear her mind in half. Desperately she tried to summon her magic powers to save herself, knowing all the while that it could not be done. She was completely helpless, but despite this, her loins were on fire with arousal.
The moisture between their legs was dripping down freely now, and every girl who joined the tickling assault on their naked bodies coaxed more and more wetness from them. The fingers were everywhere: stroking, squeezing, playing with every ticklish spot at once like a pack of hungry predators. But it was the feathers on their backsides that were truly whipping them into a sexual fury. They could feel climax building up in them, and nothing could hold it back. And just then, May slipped her feathers between the girls’ legs.
The soft, wispy feathers gently brushed across the girls’ swollen, throbbing lips, and they knew that there was no holding back any longer. At precisely the same instance, Jeina and Khylia both threw back their heads and cried to the heavens as the soft feather’s kiss pushed them over the precipice to orgasm. Their pink lips opened up and rivers of sweet girl juice flowed forth, drenching the feathers below in their warm passion. Side by side they climaxed, reaching new heights as though pushed to higher ecstasy by the sound of their partner’s screams. Their laughter intertwined with gasps of blissful intensity, and their ticklish bodies came and came again. Everything around them came to a halt as their climactic screams split the heavens in two.
Suddenly, as though to mark the dizzying heights of their climax, the room was filled with a deafening sound that was audible even above their screams. The girls gasped for breath, barely able to tell reality from their own fevered passion. But something in the back of Jeina’s mind could still identify the sound: it was a rolling crash of thunder, and from the sound of it, it was very close. At first it meant very little to her, until she realized with some surprise that she was able to think again. All the sages had stopped what they were doing, leaving herself and Khylia gasping for breath. The girls had stopped tickling them, and looked around the room nervously at each other.
“It’s—almost time,” said May, obviously nervous but trying to maintain the impression of control. “We need to go tend to the cauldron.”
“But we know everything is taken care of,” complained another girl, obviously in no hurry to leave. “We could always stay here just a while longer.”
“And do you want to be the one to explain to her why we were late?” snapped May.
The other girl paled for a moment. “No. No, of course not. You’re right. We—we need to go.”
“Besides, we have what we need for now,” said May. She leaned down and picked up the silver bowl beneath Khylia, now filled with her tears. “I’ll get this to the Enchantress. The rest of you, I’ll meet you in the evoking chamber. Oh, and Marie and Helen can watch our guests until we get back. We wouldn’t want them getting any ideas, now would we?”
May walked carefully out the door carrying the silver bowl, careful not to spill a drop, and was followed by the rest of the girls who filed out in a hurry. The two girls left behind to watch them were not what Jeina would call intimidating: thin, fairly short girls with thick-rimmed glasses and messily-arranged hair, wearing fairly conservative robes that were nowhere near as outlandish as May’s outfit. But that didn’t matter much: Jeina and Khylia were still tied up, and these girls were still their jailers, watching them apprehensively from across the room.
Jeina looked at them, wondering if there was some way to turn them to their advantage, or at least, to try to work out an escape plan despite their presence. They didn’t look very dangerous; perhaps it might be possible to overpower them? But after a moment, she realized with some surprise that they were not even looking back at her.
They were looking at Khylia.
Khylia, with her finely honed senses, picked up on this immediately. She glanced back at them with her most subtle come-hither look: inviting and submissive at the same time. She batted her long eyelashes in their direction and flashed them an almost imperceptible smile. One of the girls blushed beet-red, and immediately turned around and began staring at the door in embarrassment. But the other girl did not move. She was enraptured, staring at this enchanting prisoner with a look of undisguised awe and desire.
The girl staring at her began to tremble, caught between her duty and her overwhelming lust. But Khylia could see which one was winning. She arched her back and shook her body from side to side, putting up a token struggle against her bondage. Her tussled raven hair caressed her smooth back, and her enormous breasts quivered with it. The wide-eyed girl watched them shake, her eyes fixated on Khylia’s erect nipples and her mouth hanging open. She had never desired anything the way she desired this dark stranger now.
Khylia moaned gently as she pulled against the cuffs that held her. On the surface it was a cry of pain from the bondage, but the undertones were even louder. Her moans were rife with submissive pleasure: cries from the dark realm where pain and rapture intertwined. Come touch me, her moaning said. I wait for you. The only torture is being denied your touch. The girl staring at her whimpered softly, and walked towards Khylia with slow, trembling steps.
The girl’s hand was outstretched, not even daring to touch this perfect body, as though she were not worthy. She could smell Khylia’s hot, perfumed breath; feel the warmth of her body as though it were a bonfire. She had never known what lust was until she had gazed upon this goddess among mortals, and now the object of her desire was within reach. She could no more have looked away from Khylia than she could have ceased to exist. And Khylia looked back at her, with every bit as much intensity. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Don’t be cruel, she said through the language of her body. Be merciful. Touch me.
It was not an offer; it was a command. The girl placed a single hand on Khylia’s perfect breast, and gasped aloud with the unimaginable pleasure of touching something so beyond beautiful. Her hand trembled as it caressed Khylia with the softest touch. And Khylia threw back her head and moaned with orgasmic ecstasy. Every inch of Khylia’s body quivered with unadulterated pleasure at this gentle touch. You control my body, she said wordlessly to her captor. You are everything I have ever wanted. Only you can satisfy me.
The girl’s hand was as still as a statue as it cupped Khylia’s breast, almost afraid to do more, drinking in the overwhelming ecstasy of its touch. Slowly, she began to caress it, and she gazed with enchantment at Khylia’s face in the throes of passion. But…there was longing in that face as well. She looked back at the girl, and Khylia’s expression mirrored hers exactly: it was filled with longing. I want to touch you, it said. I want you to know what I feel right now. Let me make this complete.
There was nothing she could do to resist such temptation. With sharp, gasping breath and shaking hands, the girl slowly reached for the cuff on Khylia’s right hand. The unearthly delights promised by only a simple touch from this goddess were a single motion away. She inserted a small key into the lock, and began to turn it…
It all happened in the blink of an eye, so quickly that Jeina almost missed it. The instant Khylia’s hand was free from its cuff, she twisted her body to the side and grabbed the girl by the shoulder. In a single, effortless motion she lifted the girl off the ground, spun her body in mid-air, and hurled her across the room head-first like a javelin. She struck the other guard in the head, with flawless marksmanship, and both of their bodies slumped to the floor in unconsciousness.
Jeina blinked. “Holy hell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that before.”
“Well, violence is considered bad form when you’re on the clock,” said Khylia as she unlocked the cuff holding her other wrist. Apparently she’d also had time to palm the key. “But these are extenuating circumstances, after all.” Khylia effortlessly bent back at her waist, thrusting out her chest as she curved her body backwards with a gymnast’s grace to touch her ankles, and reached out to unlock the cuffs holding her ankles. Once they clicked open, she stood up, stretching her back as her wings fluttered gently behind her.
“Are they OK?” asked Jeina looking at the two girls on the ground.
“They’ll be fine,” said Khylia, unlocking Jeina’s cuffs. “They’ll just be out for a few hours, is all.”
“Well, that’s good,” said Jeina, getting to her feet. “Still, it’s too bad we won’t be able to ask them about what the Sages are planning.”
“Actually, I might have some idea,” said Khylia. “Did you notice what they seemed so interested in taking?”
“You mean, that bowl full of your tears?” asked Jeina.
“Exactly,” said Khylia. “There’s only one thing I know of that succubus tears are used for: reagents for a thunderstorm spell.”
“A thunderstorm spell?” asked Jeina. “I suppose that…creates a thunderstorm?”
“Very sharp.” Khylia chuckled wryly. “As a spell it takes a great deal of magical energy, as well as quite a few hard-to-get ingredients. The tears, as well as a few other reagents, are poured into a rune that enchants a massive cauldron of water. Then the caster calls an invocation to summon stormclouds, and then charges the cauldron with magical energy. That causes the water in the cauldron to evaporate and infuse into the clouds, where it the rains down later at the caster’s choosing.” Khylia shrugged, unimpressed. “Honestly, it’s just a complicated way to make it rain. Hardly worth it for all the trouble it takes to cast the spell.”
“They were talking about a cauldron,” mused Jeina. “But why would they want to—“ Suddenly, something clicked into place in her brain. “Wait. Wait a minute,” she said. “You said the water in the cauldron infuses into the stormclouds. But does it have to be water?”
“Not really,” said Khylia. “If you really wanted to, you could make it rain beer. Provided you had enough of it, of course. And you had a taste for watery beer.”
“But that’s it!” cried Jeina. “Don’t you see? May kept talking about ‘unleashing their secret weapon’ on the city! About how once their plan was complete, they would control everything! That’s what they’ve been planning to do all along!” Her voice reached a fever pitch with her revelation. “They’re going to fill the cauldron with Witches’ Brew!”
“You mean…the potion they used on us?” asked Khylia, now concerned.
“It’s the perfect plan!” cried Jeina. “They have a potion that can render anyone debilitatingly ticklish, but the only question was how to affect all their enemies at once with it. Well, this is how! They’ll make it rain Witches’ Brew over all of Port Bastion for days, even weeks! All the wells and reservoirs will fill up with their potion; every drop of drinking water will amplify the ticklishness of any girl who drinks it. And all the while, the Sages will be holed up in their Sorority House, drinking stockpiled water, waiting it out. And once enough time has passed, they can flush the Witches’ Brew from the water supply with another rainstorm, and then step out into a city where everyone is unbearably ticklish except for them! Forget about the balance of power, the Sages will own the city after that! No one will be able to stand against them!”
Even Khylia looked begrudgingly impressed. “That is quite a plan, all right.”
Jeina nodded. “And we can’t let them go through with it. We have to stop them before they can finish that spell, or else all of Port Bastion will belong to them!” She stopped for a moment, and looked at Khylia. “But…I understand if this is my fight, not yours. After all, you don’t live here, and—“
Khylia silenced her, placing a single finger on her lips as she smiled gently. “Later. Right now, we have an incantation to stop.”
Dark clouds gathered over the city of Port Bastion, and the stifling heat slowly gave way to a chill wind that spread an unseasonable cold through its streets. The stark shadows once cast by the blinding sun became a gray haze that shrouded the city like a miasma. The city’s great buildings, so triumphant by daylight, became bleak and craggy fixtures that towered above the streets. Even the great Sorority Houses, the beacons of the city, appeared distant and ominous. Although the temperature had fallen, few people ventured outside, instead remaining inside the city’s homes and taverns to peer out their windows at the darkening sky. Throughout all of Port Bastion, no one could shake a great sense of foreboding.
But deep within the Sorority of Sages, the foreboding was of a very different kind. Jeina woke up to an all-too-familiar sensation: she was completely tied up. She had been captured again. Next to her was the prostrate form of Khylia, just beginning to stir from her slumbers. Apparently the succubus had fared no better than she had when it came to resisting the tickling magic.
Both of them were in a kneeling position, side-by-side, with their wrists shackled together above their heads. Their ankles were held in padded metal cuffs, with their soles turned upwards. And both of them were completely stripped of their clothing. The only difference between them, Jeina noticed from the corner of her eye, was that beneath Khylia on the floor lay a small silver bowl.
Jeina looked sideways at Khylia, and a part of her thrilled to see the object of her desire naked at last. It was a guilty thrill that was all the more compelling considering the inappropriateness of the situation, but she could not deny it. She cast her eyes longingly over the smooth supple skin; the perfectly shaped breasts that hung just out of reach; the curvature of her soft, round backside that wiggled so alluringly as she put up a token struggle to break her bondage. Even the wings, which had been so strange at first, were undeniably a part of her unearthly beauty: an essential brushstroke in a magnificent painting. Jeina wished more than anything that her hands were free: not so that she could escape, but that she could reach out and touch that body whose siren song called to her.
But her pleasant reverie was cut short when Jeina realized there were other people in the room. And they were not friendly. All around them stood an array of short, thin, bookish girls wearing sages’ robes and leers of newfound power. And among them was a face that Jeina knew to expect even before she saw it: the smiling, vindicated face of May Hazelwood.
“I hope you enjoyed your brief taste of freedom, girls,” said May. “Because I can assure you, another one is not in the cards for you.”
Jeina looked around at their surroundings. They had been placed in a cell with bare stone walls: the bondage implements that held them were the only fixtures in the entire room. A single, steel-reinforced door marked the exit, and the only light came in from small, barred windows a good twenty feet off the ground. Getting out of here was clearly not going to be easy.
“Oh yes, this time we’re serious,” said May, as she saw Jeina take in her surroundings. “Did you really think that the two of you managed to escape without our letting you?”
“And why would you do that?” asked Khylia coldly.
“Because of you, my dear,” answered May, stroking Khylia’s hair condescendingly. Khylia snapped her head away.
“The Red Enchantress told us all about your demonic powers, you see,” May continued. “Oh yes, we knew what we were facing when we summoned you here. And we weren’t about to go head-to-head with your magic, at least not until we were completely certain that you had used it all up. So we let you burn through your powers to escape those stocks. But even then, there was always the chance that you still had more. So we cleared the way for you. We recalled all of our sisters from the wing that we had you held in. The Red Enchantress even had me withdraw when she sensed that you were getting close to your new friend here. After all, what was it to us if she went free for a short time?
“And then, we had you locked in the alchemy lab. We used our powers to tickle you both from afar. We knew that if the succubus had any demonic power left, she would have used it to save herself. But no, she let herself be tickled to unconsciousness. And that’s when the Red Enchantress knew it was safe for us to bring you here. You’re ours now: completely helpless.”
“Is this what you’ve been reduced to, May?” demanded Jeina. “Taking orders like a servant?”
May sneered at her. “Nice try.”
“So what was so important about me that had you so afraid?” asked Khylia with disdain. “I’m dying to know.”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” said May. Then she reconsidered. “Actually, you probably won’t. But no matter. Girls! I think it’s time we show our guests some hospitality!”
Suddenly, Jeina and Khylia were both extremely aware of their discomforting circumstances. A circle of leering girls formed around them, obviously waiting for a show. Some stayed back, while others drew in closer, and behind them they could feel two girls coming directly up to them, until…
“YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” Both Jeina and Khylia erupted into wild laughter as each of the girls behind them pressed a fingertip into the centers of their soft, upturned feet. It was a gesture of pure domination: mockingly simple, demonstrating just how vulnerable they were to only a simple touch on their delicate soles. The girls touching their soles grinned with delight at the effect they were having, reveling in how effortless it was to break these lovely specimens. And then, eager for even wilder screams, they slowly dragged their fingertips down the length of the soles. Jeina and Khylia nearly lost their minds.
“You can’t resist that, can you?” asked May over the sounds of their hysterical laughter. She laughed imperiously. “Of course not, nobody can! Not after our Brew has made your feet so unbearably ticklish. And this is just a taste of our ultimate weapon. Soon we’ll have all the city’s leaders here, screaming for mercy, begging to tell us their secrets, and no one can stop us! But then, I think you have other things to worry about right now.”
“WOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!” Jeina howled as more fingers joined the assault on her tender feet. They slithered in every direction, with the girls applying their devious techniques to searching out soft spots without mercy. She threw back her head and cried out in pure madness as she felt a fingernail sink into the tender spot just beneath the ball of her right foot. A moment later, she heard screams of insanity coming from Khylia, as the girls had apparently discovered an equally devastating spot on her soft, creamy soles.
“Tickle tickle tickle!” giggled one of the sages behind them. “Let’s really make those feet dance, girls!”
“OH NOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!!!” Khylia bayed at the ceiling like a wild beast, her toes splaying wildly as she desperately tried to free her feet. Deprived of her powers, she was completely helpless in a way she had never known before: she was at the mercy of these mortal girls and their diabolical tickle-torture.
“You didn’t know we were such experts at our craft, did you?” lorded May over them. “Well, we study more than magic here, I’m pleased to say. We have ancient texts that describe pressure points and reflex manipulation: hundreds of ways to torment a ticklish pair of feet that you’ve never even dreamed of, all recorded in our libraries. And we’re ready to test them all on you. Girls! Show our guests what you’ve learned!”
Suddenly, the fingers tickling their upturned feet changed their attack: the sharp presses gave way to a soft, fluttering touch: like the gentle caress of a feather on their sensitive tootsies. It seemed to tickle in a hundred places at once, like the brush of a living feather-duster: all the softness of feathers mixed with the cruel precision of fingertips. Every perfect stroke was maddeningly soft, designed to plunge the mind into insanity. It was the worst of both worlds.
“STAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAPPP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” screamed Jeina, as the feathery assault blinded her with tears.
“NOT THE FEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEETTT!!!” begged Khylia, howling with wild hysteria beside her. Tears rained down from her cheeks, filling the silver bowl beneath her with the deluge.
The girls’ fingers swept across the soft surfaces with unmatched grace and skill: tracing impossibly elaborate patterns like dancers in a perfectly-choreographed ballet. They moved in quick circles, long arcs, and quick pivots, always knowing exactly where to go next. Every touch was the gentlest of caresses: always hovering a fraction of an inch above the quivering skin, always keeping perfect distance until their ballet would call for a quick stroke to a perfectly calculated spot. It was as though a windswept storm of the softest feathers had engulfed their feet, leaving them to endure its gentle fury. It was magic in its own way, and as powerful as any spell.
“Do you like that one, girls?” asked May. “Legend says, this particular technique was used to defeat the Queen Druidess of the Indigo Circle. One of the most powerful spellcasters of her day, no weapon could stand against her. That is, until one of her subordinates developed a tickling technique that could break the strongest will. She was tied up and her royal soles were subjected to this torture for an entire night; the forest echoed with her laughter as she begged for mercy. She was helpless to fight back against the fluttering touch on her hopelessly soft feet. And finally, when she could take it no longer, she relinquished her powers to save herself from the unbearable tickling.”
“YEEEEEAAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAAAA!!!!!” Neither Jeina nor Khylia, however, were in any shape for a history lesson. Their soles were flushed bright pink, inviting more girls to join the assault: spreading their tender toes and tickling each one with loving precision. Never before had their ticklish feet experienced anything that could compare to this.
“No one knows if the story is true or not,” said May with mocking detachment. “But there’s no denying how effective our technique is. Why, I’ll bet you would give up a kingdom in a second if it would save your ticklish tootsies, hmm? But that’s not an option for you. No, all you can do is laugh for us.”
And laugh they did, as every inch of tender sole-flesh was tickled without mercy. Their howls of laughter and sweaty, thrashing bodies brought in even more girls, eager to drink in such sensual delights. A girl kneeled down each in front of Jeina and Khylia, a look of hunger on their faces as they grasped the girls’ sides, tickling them from their stomach up to their ribs and down again, amplifying their laughter even louder. And then, they plunged their mouths onto the girls’ taut stomachs with delight, licking and swirling their tongues around the girl’s belly buttons, planting soft kisses upon them and tickling them with the tips of their nimble tongues. The girls’ stomachs shook with laughter beneath their lips, making their tormentors hungrier still for the salty sweetness of their flesh.
“STAAAHAHAHAHAP!!! STAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAPPP!!!!!” screamed Jeina through gales of laughter. But despite herself, she could feel herself becoming enormously aroused. The wild loss of control, the overwhelming assault on her ticklish body was turning her on like she could not have imagined. She could feel the wetness between her legs: the tingling and the rising heat that demanded more. Even if she was tickled to death, she had to have more.
“WOOOHOOHOOHOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOO!!!!!” Khylia’s hooting laughter reached a fever pitch as the girl in front of her discovered, to her delight, that Khylia’s navel was an intensely ticklish spot on her stunning body. The girl knelt in front of her, licking it with wild abandon as Khylia’s massive, quaking breasts rested atop the girl’s head. And between her legs, Jeina could also see a glistening patch of wetness: her companion was every bit as aroused as she was.
And so, it appeared, was May, who seemed no longer content to stand by and watch any longer. “Make way for me, girls!” she declared. “It’s about time for me to join in the fun!” And eagerly she strode behind the girls. She lustily surveyed the bounty before her: two struggling, naked, hopelessly ticklish bodies with any spot she wanted for the taking. May reached into the pocket of her dress and removed two long, fluffy feathers: holding one in each hand as she took her place behind them.
“My, it looks like you’re enjoying this,” said May, looking at the droplets of moisture that fell from between the two captive girls’ legs. “Then let me make this even more intense. You see, there’s one spot that the Witches’ Brew is almost guaranteed to make…unbearable.”
Jeina hardly had time to run May’s warning through her laughter-addled mind before she felt it: a shock that turned her laughter to a piercing shriek of pure ticklish agony. For the feather behind her was tickling her delicate, well-toned ass.
“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!” From the deafening volume of their screams, it was clear that May had found a true weak spot: a vulnerability which neither girl could defend against. Jeina and Khylia bellowed with laughter in unison, both of them slaves to this new insidious torture.
“Ooh, yes, it’s hard to tell which of you has the most ticklish ass,” said May, licking her lips as the soft feathers slithered up and down the girls’ tender backsides like amorous serpents. Their two luscious asses wiggled side by side: both of them stunningly perfect in their own way, and both of them helpless against the soft, wispy caress of the feather.
“NO MORE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” screamed Jeina.
“OH PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!!” begged Khylia,
“We have you, officer, with your toned, firm buns; your hard athlete’s body: so tempting and delicious, I knew I wanted to tickle them from the moment I first laid eyes on you! And who would have imagined that they were so unbearably ticklish? Even before the Witches’ Brew, I’ll bet that anyone who slipped a feather under that thong of yours could drive you wild, couldn’t they? And now your ass is all mine, and I could just feather it forever.”
“BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” Jeina could only scream in response. Bun-feathering had been part of her Guards’ training: she could still remember being in the row of chained-up girls, their panties slipped down to their thighs, being forced to endure the torture of a tickling feather-tip between her sensitive cheeks and being certain that she would die of laughter. It was a Guard’s duty to be exposed to every form of tickle torture, so that they would be forearmed to resist it in the field. But even those nightmarish ordeals, that terrified even the bravest of their girls, were nothing compared to this. Nothing had prepared her for May’s feather sliding between her firm cheeks.
“But you, my unearthly beauty, now this is an ass you don’t see every day,” said May, turning to Khylia. She swept the feather up and down between the succubus’ tight buns as she spoke, and Khylia thrashed and screamed like a woman possessed. “So smooth, so impossibly soft and round and tender. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such flawless skin before. And I’ve definitely never had a chance to feather a demon’s ticklish ass before. I’m so happy to see you have the same reaction to a feather as the girls from our world do.”
“WOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!!! NOO!!!!! NOOO!!!!! NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!!!” howled Khylia, as the silver bowl beneath her overflowed with her tears. Unlike Jeina, Khylia had no training in resisting the more diabolical forms of tickle torture: she had never known what it was like to have a torturer’s feather dancing between her asscheeks. It was unimaginable torment: every stroke up and down her flawless posterior threatened to tear her mind in half. Desperately she tried to summon her magic powers to save herself, knowing all the while that it could not be done. She was completely helpless, but despite this, her loins were on fire with arousal.
The moisture between their legs was dripping down freely now, and every girl who joined the tickling assault on their naked bodies coaxed more and more wetness from them. The fingers were everywhere: stroking, squeezing, playing with every ticklish spot at once like a pack of hungry predators. But it was the feathers on their backsides that were truly whipping them into a sexual fury. They could feel climax building up in them, and nothing could hold it back. And just then, May slipped her feathers between the girls’ legs.
The soft, wispy feathers gently brushed across the girls’ swollen, throbbing lips, and they knew that there was no holding back any longer. At precisely the same instance, Jeina and Khylia both threw back their heads and cried to the heavens as the soft feather’s kiss pushed them over the precipice to orgasm. Their pink lips opened up and rivers of sweet girl juice flowed forth, drenching the feathers below in their warm passion. Side by side they climaxed, reaching new heights as though pushed to higher ecstasy by the sound of their partner’s screams. Their laughter intertwined with gasps of blissful intensity, and their ticklish bodies came and came again. Everything around them came to a halt as their climactic screams split the heavens in two.
Suddenly, as though to mark the dizzying heights of their climax, the room was filled with a deafening sound that was audible even above their screams. The girls gasped for breath, barely able to tell reality from their own fevered passion. But something in the back of Jeina’s mind could still identify the sound: it was a rolling crash of thunder, and from the sound of it, it was very close. At first it meant very little to her, until she realized with some surprise that she was able to think again. All the sages had stopped what they were doing, leaving herself and Khylia gasping for breath. The girls had stopped tickling them, and looked around the room nervously at each other.
“It’s—almost time,” said May, obviously nervous but trying to maintain the impression of control. “We need to go tend to the cauldron.”
“But we know everything is taken care of,” complained another girl, obviously in no hurry to leave. “We could always stay here just a while longer.”
“And do you want to be the one to explain to her why we were late?” snapped May.
The other girl paled for a moment. “No. No, of course not. You’re right. We—we need to go.”
“Besides, we have what we need for now,” said May. She leaned down and picked up the silver bowl beneath Khylia, now filled with her tears. “I’ll get this to the Enchantress. The rest of you, I’ll meet you in the evoking chamber. Oh, and Marie and Helen can watch our guests until we get back. We wouldn’t want them getting any ideas, now would we?”
May walked carefully out the door carrying the silver bowl, careful not to spill a drop, and was followed by the rest of the girls who filed out in a hurry. The two girls left behind to watch them were not what Jeina would call intimidating: thin, fairly short girls with thick-rimmed glasses and messily-arranged hair, wearing fairly conservative robes that were nowhere near as outlandish as May’s outfit. But that didn’t matter much: Jeina and Khylia were still tied up, and these girls were still their jailers, watching them apprehensively from across the room.
Jeina looked at them, wondering if there was some way to turn them to their advantage, or at least, to try to work out an escape plan despite their presence. They didn’t look very dangerous; perhaps it might be possible to overpower them? But after a moment, she realized with some surprise that they were not even looking back at her.
They were looking at Khylia.
Khylia, with her finely honed senses, picked up on this immediately. She glanced back at them with her most subtle come-hither look: inviting and submissive at the same time. She batted her long eyelashes in their direction and flashed them an almost imperceptible smile. One of the girls blushed beet-red, and immediately turned around and began staring at the door in embarrassment. But the other girl did not move. She was enraptured, staring at this enchanting prisoner with a look of undisguised awe and desire.
The girl staring at her began to tremble, caught between her duty and her overwhelming lust. But Khylia could see which one was winning. She arched her back and shook her body from side to side, putting up a token struggle against her bondage. Her tussled raven hair caressed her smooth back, and her enormous breasts quivered with it. The wide-eyed girl watched them shake, her eyes fixated on Khylia’s erect nipples and her mouth hanging open. She had never desired anything the way she desired this dark stranger now.
Khylia moaned gently as she pulled against the cuffs that held her. On the surface it was a cry of pain from the bondage, but the undertones were even louder. Her moans were rife with submissive pleasure: cries from the dark realm where pain and rapture intertwined. Come touch me, her moaning said. I wait for you. The only torture is being denied your touch. The girl staring at her whimpered softly, and walked towards Khylia with slow, trembling steps.
The girl’s hand was outstretched, not even daring to touch this perfect body, as though she were not worthy. She could smell Khylia’s hot, perfumed breath; feel the warmth of her body as though it were a bonfire. She had never known what lust was until she had gazed upon this goddess among mortals, and now the object of her desire was within reach. She could no more have looked away from Khylia than she could have ceased to exist. And Khylia looked back at her, with every bit as much intensity. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Don’t be cruel, she said through the language of her body. Be merciful. Touch me.
It was not an offer; it was a command. The girl placed a single hand on Khylia’s perfect breast, and gasped aloud with the unimaginable pleasure of touching something so beyond beautiful. Her hand trembled as it caressed Khylia with the softest touch. And Khylia threw back her head and moaned with orgasmic ecstasy. Every inch of Khylia’s body quivered with unadulterated pleasure at this gentle touch. You control my body, she said wordlessly to her captor. You are everything I have ever wanted. Only you can satisfy me.
The girl’s hand was as still as a statue as it cupped Khylia’s breast, almost afraid to do more, drinking in the overwhelming ecstasy of its touch. Slowly, she began to caress it, and she gazed with enchantment at Khylia’s face in the throes of passion. But…there was longing in that face as well. She looked back at the girl, and Khylia’s expression mirrored hers exactly: it was filled with longing. I want to touch you, it said. I want you to know what I feel right now. Let me make this complete.
There was nothing she could do to resist such temptation. With sharp, gasping breath and shaking hands, the girl slowly reached for the cuff on Khylia’s right hand. The unearthly delights promised by only a simple touch from this goddess were a single motion away. She inserted a small key into the lock, and began to turn it…
It all happened in the blink of an eye, so quickly that Jeina almost missed it. The instant Khylia’s hand was free from its cuff, she twisted her body to the side and grabbed the girl by the shoulder. In a single, effortless motion she lifted the girl off the ground, spun her body in mid-air, and hurled her across the room head-first like a javelin. She struck the other guard in the head, with flawless marksmanship, and both of their bodies slumped to the floor in unconsciousness.
Jeina blinked. “Holy hell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that before.”
“Well, violence is considered bad form when you’re on the clock,” said Khylia as she unlocked the cuff holding her other wrist. Apparently she’d also had time to palm the key. “But these are extenuating circumstances, after all.” Khylia effortlessly bent back at her waist, thrusting out her chest as she curved her body backwards with a gymnast’s grace to touch her ankles, and reached out to unlock the cuffs holding her ankles. Once they clicked open, she stood up, stretching her back as her wings fluttered gently behind her.
“Are they OK?” asked Jeina looking at the two girls on the ground.
“They’ll be fine,” said Khylia, unlocking Jeina’s cuffs. “They’ll just be out for a few hours, is all.”
“Well, that’s good,” said Jeina, getting to her feet. “Still, it’s too bad we won’t be able to ask them about what the Sages are planning.”
“Actually, I might have some idea,” said Khylia. “Did you notice what they seemed so interested in taking?”
“You mean, that bowl full of your tears?” asked Jeina.
“Exactly,” said Khylia. “There’s only one thing I know of that succubus tears are used for: reagents for a thunderstorm spell.”
“A thunderstorm spell?” asked Jeina. “I suppose that…creates a thunderstorm?”
“Very sharp.” Khylia chuckled wryly. “As a spell it takes a great deal of magical energy, as well as quite a few hard-to-get ingredients. The tears, as well as a few other reagents, are poured into a rune that enchants a massive cauldron of water. Then the caster calls an invocation to summon stormclouds, and then charges the cauldron with magical energy. That causes the water in the cauldron to evaporate and infuse into the clouds, where it the rains down later at the caster’s choosing.” Khylia shrugged, unimpressed. “Honestly, it’s just a complicated way to make it rain. Hardly worth it for all the trouble it takes to cast the spell.”
“They were talking about a cauldron,” mused Jeina. “But why would they want to—“ Suddenly, something clicked into place in her brain. “Wait. Wait a minute,” she said. “You said the water in the cauldron infuses into the stormclouds. But does it have to be water?”
“Not really,” said Khylia. “If you really wanted to, you could make it rain beer. Provided you had enough of it, of course. And you had a taste for watery beer.”
“But that’s it!” cried Jeina. “Don’t you see? May kept talking about ‘unleashing their secret weapon’ on the city! About how once their plan was complete, they would control everything! That’s what they’ve been planning to do all along!” Her voice reached a fever pitch with her revelation. “They’re going to fill the cauldron with Witches’ Brew!”
“You mean…the potion they used on us?” asked Khylia, now concerned.
“It’s the perfect plan!” cried Jeina. “They have a potion that can render anyone debilitatingly ticklish, but the only question was how to affect all their enemies at once with it. Well, this is how! They’ll make it rain Witches’ Brew over all of Port Bastion for days, even weeks! All the wells and reservoirs will fill up with their potion; every drop of drinking water will amplify the ticklishness of any girl who drinks it. And all the while, the Sages will be holed up in their Sorority House, drinking stockpiled water, waiting it out. And once enough time has passed, they can flush the Witches’ Brew from the water supply with another rainstorm, and then step out into a city where everyone is unbearably ticklish except for them! Forget about the balance of power, the Sages will own the city after that! No one will be able to stand against them!”
Even Khylia looked begrudgingly impressed. “That is quite a plan, all right.”
Jeina nodded. “And we can’t let them go through with it. We have to stop them before they can finish that spell, or else all of Port Bastion will belong to them!” She stopped for a moment, and looked at Khylia. “But…I understand if this is my fight, not yours. After all, you don’t live here, and—“
Khylia silenced her, placing a single finger on her lips as she smiled gently. “Later. Right now, we have an incantation to stop.”
Featherfall
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You will NOT stop the plan, you will NOT stop the plan, you will NOT....
Great chapter as always my man; those two need to be cuffed and stay cuffed, or they will ruin the happy ending.
Great chapter as always my man; those two need to be cuffed and stay cuffed, or they will ruin the happy ending.
steelballs3
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absolutly amazing once again
You will NOT stop the plan, you will NOT stop the plan, you will NOT....
Great chapter as always my man; those two need to be cuffed and stay cuffed, or they will ruin the happy ending.
I know how you feel; I'm finding myself torn between who to root for! Thank you as always for your continued support! 😀
Thank you! I'm definitely glad to hear from you!
I always appreciate your support, man! 🙂
steelballs3
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not a problem these are always something to look forward to reading after work 😀
That plan may be the greatest plan.. ever... 
Its really werid on one hand I really want to see May, May's sage cohorts and the Crimson Lady get it. But on the other hand the Sages plan is too good to fail.
I think... Im rooting for the Bad guys this time. GO SAGES! lol. 😀
Its really werid on one hand I really want to see May, May's sage cohorts and the Crimson Lady get it. But on the other hand the Sages plan is too good to fail.
I think... Im rooting for the Bad guys this time. GO SAGES! lol. 😀
MatrinZachs
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This is. Great story kunzite you are a gifted writer. I believe that I would read this even if it had no fetish content at all. It's that good
That plan may be the greatest plan.. ever...
Its really werid on one hand I really want to see May, May's sage cohorts and the Crimson Lady get it. But on the other hand the Sages plan is too good to fail.
I think... Im rooting for the Bad guys this time. GO SAGES! lol. 😀
I think part of me is with you on that! I certainly love those girls; I'm glad to see you're developing a soft spot for them too! 🙂 Thank you, it's great to hear from people who are enjoying the adventure! 😀
Wow, thanks! As a writer I'm honored to receive such high praise. I hope my future work continues to deserve it!
Carnivore318
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This chapter just makes me like that pair even more. Jeina's submissive enjoyment as she get's her belly licked, Khylia's overpowering seduction... wow. I just hope that when that storm of witch's brew comes, something goes wrong with their water stockpile, too.
They're definitely growing on me too! Thanks for your support; their characterization has been really entertaining to write, and it means a lot to me that you're enjoying it as well 🙂
Chapter 6
The hallways of the Sages’ House were normally bright and lively, with rays of sunlight beaming in through the buttressed windows and bathing the halls in a warm, inviting light. But today, with the skies cloudy and overcast, a dull gray blanketed over everything and the halls felt cold and empty. Jeina looked out the window at the oncoming black clouds, crackling with lightning as they blotted out the sun like a dark shroud. It was more than a bad omen: it literally was the disaster about to befall the city, unless she and Khylia could put a stop to it. As rumbling thunder echoed in the distance, Jeina’s gaze went down to the grounds of the Sorority House below: perfectly trimmed grass and rows of tall trees that swayed in the chill wind. It would be so easy to escape, to put all her trials behind her and climb out the window to freedom. But she knew she could not do that. There was work to be done that only she could do. And most importantly, it was a matter of justice.
“This way,” said Khylia authoritatively, as she turned a quick right. She shifted her robe uncomfortably: the robes they had taken from the two unconscious girls fit Jeina well enough, but they were not tailored for a girl with bat-wings. Khylia kept her wings tucked behind her, where Jeina could see them fluttering beneath the clothing.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” asked Jeina.
“Absolutely,” answered Khylia. “Can’t you smell it?”
Jeina sniffed the air. “Smell what? Don’t tell me you can track May by scent. That’s a neat trick.”
“No, I didn’t get a chance to smell her,” said Khylia. “But I can smell my own perfume in the air, and May got me in such a sweat that she was saturated with it.” Jeina sniffed the air again, and she had to admit it seemed like there was a trail of the succubus’ perfume that was not coming directly from her body.
“But so were all the other girls in the room,” said Jeina. “How do we know we’re not following them?”
“Because this is coming from only one person, and May said that she was going off alone while the rest of them went to the evoking chamber.” Khylia smirked at her. “Honestly, I don’t know how you humans even get by.”
“We manage,” said Jeina with an amused shrug. “So are we getting close?”
Instead of answering, Khylia came to a stop and held up a hand for Jeina to do the same. She cocked her head slightly, and then nodded, pointing at an unmarked ancient wooden door. “That’s it,” she said. “We’re here.”
Jeina studied the door for a moment. “And May’s behind here?” she asked.
“Without a doubt,” said Khylia. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
Jeina clenched her fist. “I’m readier than you could possibly know.” She moved ahead of Khylia and decisively pushed open the door.
The room inside was long and windowless: the only light came from two rows of silver braziers, which lined a velvet carpet that ran down the center of the room. The flames from the braziers cast long, flickering shadows against the stone walls. Tapestries and metalwork ornaments lined the walls, covered in ancient symbols Jeina could not translate. At the very end of the carpet was a large rune, five feet across, carved into the stone floor. It glittered in the dim light: a liquid had just been poured into the etchings in the stone. But this was not the only thing the room held.
There was May, with her back turned to the door, holding the silver bowl in her hands. But it was empty: the succubus tears inside had already been used for the spell. But even with this ominous news, there was something even more disturbing to be seen. May was not alone. She was talking to a figure that Jeina recognized in an instant. It was the ghostly, crimson-robed figure that Jeina had seen before: as translucent and ethereal as before, with nothing but the blackness of night beneath its hood. Although it stood on the ground, it seemed to float there, as though it were a projection from far away. The very sight of it chilled Jeina to the bone.
“I’ve done as you requested, My Lady,” said May. “The tears have been applied to the rune. The cauldron is ready. All we need to do now is wait for the clouds to move into position, and the incantation can begin.”
The figure responded only with ghostly silence, but as before, Jeina could feel it was communicating. This is satisfactory, was the response that she somehow knew was being given. And without anything further, the figure disappeared from view, leaving May alone in the room. May placed the now-empty bowl on the ground and turned around to leave, and it was then that she saw the two intruders standing in the doorway.
“Well, I should have known you would find a way to escape our clutches,” said May with a grim smile. She stepped forward into a combat stance, her massive silver staff held out in front of her. “But if you think you’re going to get past me, then you are sadly mistaken. No force in existence can stand against the powers of a sorceress! You have no idea the kinds of unearthly forces I command at my will! But if you are foolish enough to challenge me, then I promise you I will show you no mercy! Now, witness the power of the staff of—Hey! No! Give that back!”
“Do you have any idea what kind of a day I’ve been having?” demanded Jeina, grabbing the staff from May’s hands. She held it above her head as she talked, forcing May to jump up in the air after it, desperately trying to snatch it back. “I don’t care who you take your orders from or what you want to pretend to be! I’ve put up with you and your delusions for about as long as I’m prepared to! I’ve been kidnapped. I’ve been set free, and then kidnapped again. I’ve had to sit through your mad plans for world domination after being stripped and tied up! I’ve been subjected to torture that you couldn’t imagine, and now I’m through playing your games!”
“No fair! Give it back!” cried May, still jumping in the air after her staff.
“I’ve dealt with your all plots and your scheming and your ambitions, and I’m all out of patience!” shouted Jeina, her voice growing louder. “I’ve faced demons and ghosts and potions and traps and magic spells, and I have just about had enough!” And with her final words, Jeina brought down the staff with all her might, cracking it in half over her knee.
“Noooo!” wailed May, mourning the two broken halves that had once been her staff. “Do you know how many hours it took me to make that?”
“So, you want to be a sorceress?” demanded Jeina, throwing aside the broken halves of the staff. “You think you can use magic and mess with the law? Well I have news for you: I am the law!”
“Ooh, I like that,” remarked Khylia from the back of the room.
May, suddenly finding herself with the deep desire to be somewhere else, turned to run for the door. But Jeina had years of experience subduing fleeing perpetrators. Before May had even taken her second step, Jeina leapt on her, tackling her to the floor. She pinned May with her thighs, straddling her midsection and turning to face backwards towards her legs as May desperately tried to drag herself to freedom.
“Let me go!” cried May, grasping for anything to pull herself free with. “You can’t do this!”
“Oh, can’t I?” asked Jeina. “Now, let me show you what happens to girls who break the law!”
And with those words, Jeina plucked May’s shoes from her feet, casting them aside and leaving her in only the striped thigh-high socks that encased her kicking legs. Jeina clamped down with her body weight on May’s knees, holding her ankles together with one hand while taking the struggling feet in the other.
“Please!” said May, grasping out for anything she could grab hold of. “You don’t—mmmph!—know what you’re—doing—ghhhhhpph!” Even through her socks she could feel the touch on her feet, and fought to hold in her giggles, her socked feet twitching in Jeina’s hand.
“No, I have a very good idea what I’m doing,” retorted Jeina. And pinching the socks at the toe, Jeina pulled off May’s striped socks, leaving her bare feet facing up at Jeina’s waiting fingers.
The sharp shock of cool air to her sensitive feet moved May from fear to outright panic. “Please!” she begged. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know! Just…don’t tickle!”
“Oh, make no mistake, we do want information,” answered Jeina. “But before that, we have a matter of old-fashioned revenge to deal with.” With a flourish of triumph, Jeina removed the sash on her robe and wrapped it around May’s ankles, binding them together. And with the sash tied securely, Jeina grinned and pressed her fingertips into the soles of May’s soft feet.
“WAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!!” Perhaps working around cauldrons of Witches’ Brew for so long had caused May to gain its effects second-hand. Perhaps she had even been exposed to the potion herself. Or perhaps May had just always had violently ticklish feet. But whatever the reason, the effects of the tickling on her feet was instantaneous: the wild, howling laughter of the insanely ticklish filled the room, and every muscle in May’s body thrashed for freedom. Even with her small, willowy body, her feet were so ticklish that they looked like they threatened to snap the sash out of pure desperate strength. But it was too strong, and all her struggles were futile.
“That’s it, May,” said Jeina as her fingernails slid up and down May’s tender soles. “No magic spells, no ancient texts, just sharp nails on soft feet. Look at the great sorceress now: laughing helplessly just like one of her victims. Well, let’s see all your magic save you from being tickled to death!”
“PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEASE!!! MERCEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEEEEE!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” screamed May, tears flowing down her cheeks. She pounded the floor with her fists, and her oversized witch hat fell from her head, leaving her dirty-blonde hair tumbling out in every direction.
“And how much mercy did you show us?” asked Jeina, pressing her fingernails into May’s arches and causing her feet to spasm with ticklishness. She walked her sharp-nailed fingers up and down May’s bare soles, stopping to focus on every delicious soft spot she discovered. “I don’t know very much about potions, but if there’s one thing the City Guards know, it’s know to tickle girls who’ve been bad. And you have been very, very bad, May Hazelwood! Koochie-koochie-koo!”
“I—I’M SORRY!!! WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” To Jeina’s delight, May’s pampered feet were not used to being tickled at all. Years of keeping them safe under thick socks had kept them beautifully tender and baby-soft: some women spent small fortunes on pedicures to get their feet as smooth and soft as May’s. And now the unthinkable was happening: they had fallen under a tickling assault by well-trained fingers fueled by pure revenge.
“Yes, I’ll bet you’re sorry!” declared Jeina. “But that won’t save your precious tootsies! Laugh for me, ticklish girl!” Jeina’s long nails had tickled many a girl on the wrong side of the law before, but very rarely had their targets been as sensitive as the soft, pink feet that danced beneath them now. They scratched quickly like talons over the smooth balls of her feet, causing May to lose her mind.
“PLEEHEEHEEASE NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!!!” howled May, as Jeina’s fingernails scribbled over another newly-discovered soft spot with gleeful abandon. Tears streaked down her face and her chest ached from laughter; this was the fiercest tickling her poor feet had ever been subjected to, and it was becoming worse by the second as Jeina mastered one cruel trick after another. Gone were any dreams of power or subjugation: the only thing that mattered now was saving herself from the tickle torture.
“It looks like there is a force in existence that can stand against a sorceress, after all,” quipped Jeina. Her fingers practically devoured the warm, enticing flesh of May’s pink soles, moving with a mind of their own. “For all your boasting, nothing you can conjure up is as powerful as an old-fashioned foot-tickling.”
“I’LL DO ANYTHING!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” screamed May, her face contorted in hysterical laughter.
“Anything, hmm?” asked Jeina, raking her fingernails over May’s tender arches. “Well then, let’s start with the basics. If you want to save yourself, tell me exactly where the cauldron is!”
“NOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!! PLEEEHEHEHEHEASE NOT THAT!!! WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” For all the mind-bending ticklish torment May was experiencing, a small part of her still clung to a scrap of resistance. Or perhaps it was fear of her mistress.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” said Jeina with a broad grin. “Because there’s one more thing you can do for me instead. Now, scream for me May!” And Jeina leaned down and ran her tongue up the length of May’s soft, upturned soles.
“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAA!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA!!!!!” It was the shrieking sound of pure madness: nothing could have prepared May for the nightmare of having her soles licked. Her screams sounded barely human, and the wilder her laughter became, the more eagerly Jeina slurped up the sweetness before her.
“Mmmmmm, yesss,” murmured Jeina, “such delicious little feet. I’m going to enjoy this.” She slowly licked the length of May’s arches, gently nibbling the balls of her feet, and teasing the tender regions beneath her toes with the tip of her tongue. Soon the entire surfaces of her soles glistened with moisture, and Jeina ran her fingertips over the slippery surfaces to form a double-edged tickling assault. It was too much for May to bear. With all her strength, May summoned up all her breath to yell,
“I’LL TALK!!! WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! I’LL TAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHALLLK!!!”
“Then talk, May!” said Jeina, teasing her soles with the pointed tip of her tongue. With her experience, she knew precisely how to keep May in a state of hysteria without robbing her of speech: circling her worst tickle spots without unleashing the full force of her tickling on them.
“CAULDRON!!! NORTH TOWER!!! TOP OF THE STAIRCASE!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!”
“And where is the North Tower, hmm?” asked Jeina, running her fingertips gently over May’s soles like a harpist caressing the strings of her instrument.
“OUTSIDE!!! TURN LEFT!!! AT THE--HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!--END OF THE HALLWAY!!!”
“I’ve got some good news for you, May,” said Jeina as she ran her fingers over May’s smooth arches. “I believe you. I think that you’re much too ticklish to lie to me now, and risk being tickled even worse. So you’ve been very helpful.”
“PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEAAASE!!! LET ME GOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!!!” howled May, pounding the floor with her nerveless fists.
“But unfortunately, I have some bad news for you, too,” said Jeina. “You see, I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve taught you a proper lesson!” And with that, Jeina abandoned her merciful approach and launched a full assault on May’s most ticklish spots: pressing into soft patches with her sharp fingernails, scribbling up and down the most tender regions of her soles, and licking her warm, sensitive feet with even more relish than before.
“NOOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOO!!! YOU PROMISED!!! WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!” screamed May, doubling her laughter in a split second in the face of Jeina’s merciless attack. Her feet thrashed with more ferocity than ever, but all the desperate adrenaline they could muster could not save them from Jeina’s tickling fingers and tongue.
“I promised nothing!” said Jeina, between long licks across May’s feet. “You think you deserve mercy? Well, think about that the next time you have a ticklish victim you’re planning to have some fun with! Think about your own horribly ticklish feet, and what you’re feeling right this second!”
“BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!!” May could no longer even beg for mercy, reduced to babbling through her helpless laughter. Her soft feet were simply no match for Jeina’s long, moist tongue. With every new sensuous lick from Jeina, May was plunged deeper into the abyss of tickle hell.
And Jeina, too, was too busy to speak. One by one, she plunged May’s wiggling toes into her mouth, sliding them in and out between her moist lips and sucking on them with rapturous pleasure. She wrapped her long tongue around every ticklish digit, squeezing it gently as her tongue slithered back and forth through the unimaginably sensitive crevasses between her toes. All the while she was careful not to neglect May’s ticklish soles: ten well-trained fingers continued their assault on her sensitive soles, sliding over the moist, frictionless surfaces with skill and grace.
But May’s feet were far too ticklish to withstand such treatment for long. She shook with silent laughter now, her face red and her muscles nearly limp from overexertion. She could no longer see, or hear, or even think: the unbearable tickling consumed her entire being. Jeina could feel May’s body in wild spasms beneath her: her chest quaking as she tried to expel the laughter that would not come. Jeina’s fingers moved faster and faster, reaching a furious flurry of tickling that darted from one spot to the next almost faster than the eye could see. Her tongue kept the frantic pace, slithering in every direction, devouring her soles as though they were food to a starving woman. And as sanity slipped away from her, May’s body did the only thing it could do to save her. Gathering up all her energy in a desperate burst, she found the strength to gasp for air one last time, and cried out in a final scream of pure ticklish hysteria.
And then darkness overtook her. May Hazelwood fell limp to the ground, tickled into unconsciousness. Her face had no malice, no overbearing pride, only the blank expression of pure, exhausted sleep.
Jeina sat motionless for a moment: the intensity of what she had just experienced had overwhelmed even her. Not even aware of her surroundings, she slowly caught her breath as she ruminated on what had just happened. She very rarely lost control of herself as she had just done, but there was one thing she was certain of: it felt good.
She was brought back to the present by the slow, deliberate sound of clapping: Khylia stood at the back of the room, applauding with sarcastic slowness, wearing an appreciative grin.
“Have you just been watching the whole time?” asked Jeina as she got to her feet.
“You seemed to have things pretty well under control,” said Khylia, still grinning.
“Well, that was personal,” replied Jeina.
“Yes, something gave me that impression,” Khylia giggled.
But even through the glow of victory, the reality of their situation came back to Jeina. The true threat was still out there: the cauldron filled with Witches’ Brew that would be unleashed upon the city unless they could stop it. And as though to drive the point home, at that moment there was a great peal of thunder that sounded as though it were almost directly overhead. The storm had reached Port Bastion. Now it was only a short time before the stormclouds would be directly above the Sages’ House itself, and the incantation to infuse the clouds could begin. They had to hurry.
“Come on, we have to get to the North Tower!” cried Jeina, running out of the room with Khylia hot on her heels.
The door to the tower was exactly where May had said it would be. Reaching the end of the hallway in what felt like seconds, the hall dead-ended into a massive wooden door. Jeina flung it open. Behind it was a massive spiral staircase: hundreds and hundreds of stairs climbing upwards to infinity, stretching as far as the eye could see. Jeina wasted no time. She began sprinting up the stairs, taking them two at a time with an energy that even Khylia seemed to have to exert herself to follow. Upwards and upwards they ran, passing floor after floor until the stairs below them stretched downward into darkness. Above them they could see a glimmer of light: a faint beacon of sunlight that grew larger and larger as they ran up the stairs. Even Jeina was now panting for breath, and she heard Khylia breathing heavily behind her, but they could not stop now. They kept climbing, reaching such dizzying heights that Jeina no longer dared to look down, only up at the light that became larger and larger, calling them onwards.
And then, without even realizing it, the two of them climbed the last step. They had reached the top.
They found themselves in a massive circular chamber. The stone walls were decorated with all manner of trophies: ancient scrolls and talismans; ornamental swords, shields, warhammers and bows; silver-rimmed mirrors with runes etched around the borders. Laid across the floor were dozens of wicker baskets, containing herbs of every conceivable kind in enormous quantities. The room had was no ceiling: above them was only the vast, open sky of Port Bastion. The black clouds were gathering above them like moths drawn to a flame.
But the centerpiece of the room was the cauldron. It was without a doubt the largest cauldron Jeina had ever seen. It towered above them, at least forty feet tall, its smooth black sides stretching up towards the storm-darkened sky so far that Jeina had to crane her neck to see the top. Above the rim, she could see the liquid inside bubbling, even though there was no flame to heat it. Shimmering golden fumes wafted up from the cauldron’s mouth up into the sky. The great behemoth called out to the sky itself, and the sky answered.
“Welcome,” said a foreboding voice. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Jeina froze. She did not know how, but she knew that voice. She knew what it belonged to.
Out of the shadows of the cauldron stepped the figure in the crimson robe. This time it was no specter, no projection of light: it was solid and real, and it was standing directly in front of them. Jeina watched in spellbound silence as the crimson-robed figure slowly walked out of the shadows, watching them from under the black void of its hood.
And then it removed its robe.
The hallways of the Sages’ House were normally bright and lively, with rays of sunlight beaming in through the buttressed windows and bathing the halls in a warm, inviting light. But today, with the skies cloudy and overcast, a dull gray blanketed over everything and the halls felt cold and empty. Jeina looked out the window at the oncoming black clouds, crackling with lightning as they blotted out the sun like a dark shroud. It was more than a bad omen: it literally was the disaster about to befall the city, unless she and Khylia could put a stop to it. As rumbling thunder echoed in the distance, Jeina’s gaze went down to the grounds of the Sorority House below: perfectly trimmed grass and rows of tall trees that swayed in the chill wind. It would be so easy to escape, to put all her trials behind her and climb out the window to freedom. But she knew she could not do that. There was work to be done that only she could do. And most importantly, it was a matter of justice.
“This way,” said Khylia authoritatively, as she turned a quick right. She shifted her robe uncomfortably: the robes they had taken from the two unconscious girls fit Jeina well enough, but they were not tailored for a girl with bat-wings. Khylia kept her wings tucked behind her, where Jeina could see them fluttering beneath the clothing.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” asked Jeina.
“Absolutely,” answered Khylia. “Can’t you smell it?”
Jeina sniffed the air. “Smell what? Don’t tell me you can track May by scent. That’s a neat trick.”
“No, I didn’t get a chance to smell her,” said Khylia. “But I can smell my own perfume in the air, and May got me in such a sweat that she was saturated with it.” Jeina sniffed the air again, and she had to admit it seemed like there was a trail of the succubus’ perfume that was not coming directly from her body.
“But so were all the other girls in the room,” said Jeina. “How do we know we’re not following them?”
“Because this is coming from only one person, and May said that she was going off alone while the rest of them went to the evoking chamber.” Khylia smirked at her. “Honestly, I don’t know how you humans even get by.”
“We manage,” said Jeina with an amused shrug. “So are we getting close?”
Instead of answering, Khylia came to a stop and held up a hand for Jeina to do the same. She cocked her head slightly, and then nodded, pointing at an unmarked ancient wooden door. “That’s it,” she said. “We’re here.”
Jeina studied the door for a moment. “And May’s behind here?” she asked.
“Without a doubt,” said Khylia. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
Jeina clenched her fist. “I’m readier than you could possibly know.” She moved ahead of Khylia and decisively pushed open the door.
The room inside was long and windowless: the only light came from two rows of silver braziers, which lined a velvet carpet that ran down the center of the room. The flames from the braziers cast long, flickering shadows against the stone walls. Tapestries and metalwork ornaments lined the walls, covered in ancient symbols Jeina could not translate. At the very end of the carpet was a large rune, five feet across, carved into the stone floor. It glittered in the dim light: a liquid had just been poured into the etchings in the stone. But this was not the only thing the room held.
There was May, with her back turned to the door, holding the silver bowl in her hands. But it was empty: the succubus tears inside had already been used for the spell. But even with this ominous news, there was something even more disturbing to be seen. May was not alone. She was talking to a figure that Jeina recognized in an instant. It was the ghostly, crimson-robed figure that Jeina had seen before: as translucent and ethereal as before, with nothing but the blackness of night beneath its hood. Although it stood on the ground, it seemed to float there, as though it were a projection from far away. The very sight of it chilled Jeina to the bone.
“I’ve done as you requested, My Lady,” said May. “The tears have been applied to the rune. The cauldron is ready. All we need to do now is wait for the clouds to move into position, and the incantation can begin.”
The figure responded only with ghostly silence, but as before, Jeina could feel it was communicating. This is satisfactory, was the response that she somehow knew was being given. And without anything further, the figure disappeared from view, leaving May alone in the room. May placed the now-empty bowl on the ground and turned around to leave, and it was then that she saw the two intruders standing in the doorway.
“Well, I should have known you would find a way to escape our clutches,” said May with a grim smile. She stepped forward into a combat stance, her massive silver staff held out in front of her. “But if you think you’re going to get past me, then you are sadly mistaken. No force in existence can stand against the powers of a sorceress! You have no idea the kinds of unearthly forces I command at my will! But if you are foolish enough to challenge me, then I promise you I will show you no mercy! Now, witness the power of the staff of—Hey! No! Give that back!”
“Do you have any idea what kind of a day I’ve been having?” demanded Jeina, grabbing the staff from May’s hands. She held it above her head as she talked, forcing May to jump up in the air after it, desperately trying to snatch it back. “I don’t care who you take your orders from or what you want to pretend to be! I’ve put up with you and your delusions for about as long as I’m prepared to! I’ve been kidnapped. I’ve been set free, and then kidnapped again. I’ve had to sit through your mad plans for world domination after being stripped and tied up! I’ve been subjected to torture that you couldn’t imagine, and now I’m through playing your games!”
“No fair! Give it back!” cried May, still jumping in the air after her staff.
“I’ve dealt with your all plots and your scheming and your ambitions, and I’m all out of patience!” shouted Jeina, her voice growing louder. “I’ve faced demons and ghosts and potions and traps and magic spells, and I have just about had enough!” And with her final words, Jeina brought down the staff with all her might, cracking it in half over her knee.
“Noooo!” wailed May, mourning the two broken halves that had once been her staff. “Do you know how many hours it took me to make that?”
“So, you want to be a sorceress?” demanded Jeina, throwing aside the broken halves of the staff. “You think you can use magic and mess with the law? Well I have news for you: I am the law!”
“Ooh, I like that,” remarked Khylia from the back of the room.
May, suddenly finding herself with the deep desire to be somewhere else, turned to run for the door. But Jeina had years of experience subduing fleeing perpetrators. Before May had even taken her second step, Jeina leapt on her, tackling her to the floor. She pinned May with her thighs, straddling her midsection and turning to face backwards towards her legs as May desperately tried to drag herself to freedom.
“Let me go!” cried May, grasping for anything to pull herself free with. “You can’t do this!”
“Oh, can’t I?” asked Jeina. “Now, let me show you what happens to girls who break the law!”
And with those words, Jeina plucked May’s shoes from her feet, casting them aside and leaving her in only the striped thigh-high socks that encased her kicking legs. Jeina clamped down with her body weight on May’s knees, holding her ankles together with one hand while taking the struggling feet in the other.
“Please!” said May, grasping out for anything she could grab hold of. “You don’t—mmmph!—know what you’re—doing—ghhhhhpph!” Even through her socks she could feel the touch on her feet, and fought to hold in her giggles, her socked feet twitching in Jeina’s hand.
“No, I have a very good idea what I’m doing,” retorted Jeina. And pinching the socks at the toe, Jeina pulled off May’s striped socks, leaving her bare feet facing up at Jeina’s waiting fingers.
The sharp shock of cool air to her sensitive feet moved May from fear to outright panic. “Please!” she begged. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know! Just…don’t tickle!”
“Oh, make no mistake, we do want information,” answered Jeina. “But before that, we have a matter of old-fashioned revenge to deal with.” With a flourish of triumph, Jeina removed the sash on her robe and wrapped it around May’s ankles, binding them together. And with the sash tied securely, Jeina grinned and pressed her fingertips into the soles of May’s soft feet.
“WAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!!” Perhaps working around cauldrons of Witches’ Brew for so long had caused May to gain its effects second-hand. Perhaps she had even been exposed to the potion herself. Or perhaps May had just always had violently ticklish feet. But whatever the reason, the effects of the tickling on her feet was instantaneous: the wild, howling laughter of the insanely ticklish filled the room, and every muscle in May’s body thrashed for freedom. Even with her small, willowy body, her feet were so ticklish that they looked like they threatened to snap the sash out of pure desperate strength. But it was too strong, and all her struggles were futile.
“That’s it, May,” said Jeina as her fingernails slid up and down May’s tender soles. “No magic spells, no ancient texts, just sharp nails on soft feet. Look at the great sorceress now: laughing helplessly just like one of her victims. Well, let’s see all your magic save you from being tickled to death!”
“PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEASE!!! MERCEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEEEEE!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” screamed May, tears flowing down her cheeks. She pounded the floor with her fists, and her oversized witch hat fell from her head, leaving her dirty-blonde hair tumbling out in every direction.
“And how much mercy did you show us?” asked Jeina, pressing her fingernails into May’s arches and causing her feet to spasm with ticklishness. She walked her sharp-nailed fingers up and down May’s bare soles, stopping to focus on every delicious soft spot she discovered. “I don’t know very much about potions, but if there’s one thing the City Guards know, it’s know to tickle girls who’ve been bad. And you have been very, very bad, May Hazelwood! Koochie-koochie-koo!”
“I—I’M SORRY!!! WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” To Jeina’s delight, May’s pampered feet were not used to being tickled at all. Years of keeping them safe under thick socks had kept them beautifully tender and baby-soft: some women spent small fortunes on pedicures to get their feet as smooth and soft as May’s. And now the unthinkable was happening: they had fallen under a tickling assault by well-trained fingers fueled by pure revenge.
“Yes, I’ll bet you’re sorry!” declared Jeina. “But that won’t save your precious tootsies! Laugh for me, ticklish girl!” Jeina’s long nails had tickled many a girl on the wrong side of the law before, but very rarely had their targets been as sensitive as the soft, pink feet that danced beneath them now. They scratched quickly like talons over the smooth balls of her feet, causing May to lose her mind.
“PLEEHEEHEEASE NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!!!” howled May, as Jeina’s fingernails scribbled over another newly-discovered soft spot with gleeful abandon. Tears streaked down her face and her chest ached from laughter; this was the fiercest tickling her poor feet had ever been subjected to, and it was becoming worse by the second as Jeina mastered one cruel trick after another. Gone were any dreams of power or subjugation: the only thing that mattered now was saving herself from the tickle torture.
“It looks like there is a force in existence that can stand against a sorceress, after all,” quipped Jeina. Her fingers practically devoured the warm, enticing flesh of May’s pink soles, moving with a mind of their own. “For all your boasting, nothing you can conjure up is as powerful as an old-fashioned foot-tickling.”
“I’LL DO ANYTHING!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” screamed May, her face contorted in hysterical laughter.
“Anything, hmm?” asked Jeina, raking her fingernails over May’s tender arches. “Well then, let’s start with the basics. If you want to save yourself, tell me exactly where the cauldron is!”
“NOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!! PLEEEHEHEHEHEASE NOT THAT!!! WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” For all the mind-bending ticklish torment May was experiencing, a small part of her still clung to a scrap of resistance. Or perhaps it was fear of her mistress.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” said Jeina with a broad grin. “Because there’s one more thing you can do for me instead. Now, scream for me May!” And Jeina leaned down and ran her tongue up the length of May’s soft, upturned soles.
“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAA!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA!!!!!” It was the shrieking sound of pure madness: nothing could have prepared May for the nightmare of having her soles licked. Her screams sounded barely human, and the wilder her laughter became, the more eagerly Jeina slurped up the sweetness before her.
“Mmmmmm, yesss,” murmured Jeina, “such delicious little feet. I’m going to enjoy this.” She slowly licked the length of May’s arches, gently nibbling the balls of her feet, and teasing the tender regions beneath her toes with the tip of her tongue. Soon the entire surfaces of her soles glistened with moisture, and Jeina ran her fingertips over the slippery surfaces to form a double-edged tickling assault. It was too much for May to bear. With all her strength, May summoned up all her breath to yell,
“I’LL TALK!!! WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! I’LL TAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHALLLK!!!”
“Then talk, May!” said Jeina, teasing her soles with the pointed tip of her tongue. With her experience, she knew precisely how to keep May in a state of hysteria without robbing her of speech: circling her worst tickle spots without unleashing the full force of her tickling on them.
“CAULDRON!!! NORTH TOWER!!! TOP OF THE STAIRCASE!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!”
“And where is the North Tower, hmm?” asked Jeina, running her fingertips gently over May’s soles like a harpist caressing the strings of her instrument.
“OUTSIDE!!! TURN LEFT!!! AT THE--HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!--END OF THE HALLWAY!!!”
“I’ve got some good news for you, May,” said Jeina as she ran her fingers over May’s smooth arches. “I believe you. I think that you’re much too ticklish to lie to me now, and risk being tickled even worse. So you’ve been very helpful.”
“PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEAAASE!!! LET ME GOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!!!” howled May, pounding the floor with her nerveless fists.
“But unfortunately, I have some bad news for you, too,” said Jeina. “You see, I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve taught you a proper lesson!” And with that, Jeina abandoned her merciful approach and launched a full assault on May’s most ticklish spots: pressing into soft patches with her sharp fingernails, scribbling up and down the most tender regions of her soles, and licking her warm, sensitive feet with even more relish than before.
“NOOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOO!!! YOU PROMISED!!! WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!” screamed May, doubling her laughter in a split second in the face of Jeina’s merciless attack. Her feet thrashed with more ferocity than ever, but all the desperate adrenaline they could muster could not save them from Jeina’s tickling fingers and tongue.
“I promised nothing!” said Jeina, between long licks across May’s feet. “You think you deserve mercy? Well, think about that the next time you have a ticklish victim you’re planning to have some fun with! Think about your own horribly ticklish feet, and what you’re feeling right this second!”
“BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!!” May could no longer even beg for mercy, reduced to babbling through her helpless laughter. Her soft feet were simply no match for Jeina’s long, moist tongue. With every new sensuous lick from Jeina, May was plunged deeper into the abyss of tickle hell.
And Jeina, too, was too busy to speak. One by one, she plunged May’s wiggling toes into her mouth, sliding them in and out between her moist lips and sucking on them with rapturous pleasure. She wrapped her long tongue around every ticklish digit, squeezing it gently as her tongue slithered back and forth through the unimaginably sensitive crevasses between her toes. All the while she was careful not to neglect May’s ticklish soles: ten well-trained fingers continued their assault on her sensitive soles, sliding over the moist, frictionless surfaces with skill and grace.
But May’s feet were far too ticklish to withstand such treatment for long. She shook with silent laughter now, her face red and her muscles nearly limp from overexertion. She could no longer see, or hear, or even think: the unbearable tickling consumed her entire being. Jeina could feel May’s body in wild spasms beneath her: her chest quaking as she tried to expel the laughter that would not come. Jeina’s fingers moved faster and faster, reaching a furious flurry of tickling that darted from one spot to the next almost faster than the eye could see. Her tongue kept the frantic pace, slithering in every direction, devouring her soles as though they were food to a starving woman. And as sanity slipped away from her, May’s body did the only thing it could do to save her. Gathering up all her energy in a desperate burst, she found the strength to gasp for air one last time, and cried out in a final scream of pure ticklish hysteria.
And then darkness overtook her. May Hazelwood fell limp to the ground, tickled into unconsciousness. Her face had no malice, no overbearing pride, only the blank expression of pure, exhausted sleep.
Jeina sat motionless for a moment: the intensity of what she had just experienced had overwhelmed even her. Not even aware of her surroundings, she slowly caught her breath as she ruminated on what had just happened. She very rarely lost control of herself as she had just done, but there was one thing she was certain of: it felt good.
She was brought back to the present by the slow, deliberate sound of clapping: Khylia stood at the back of the room, applauding with sarcastic slowness, wearing an appreciative grin.
“Have you just been watching the whole time?” asked Jeina as she got to her feet.
“You seemed to have things pretty well under control,” said Khylia, still grinning.
“Well, that was personal,” replied Jeina.
“Yes, something gave me that impression,” Khylia giggled.
But even through the glow of victory, the reality of their situation came back to Jeina. The true threat was still out there: the cauldron filled with Witches’ Brew that would be unleashed upon the city unless they could stop it. And as though to drive the point home, at that moment there was a great peal of thunder that sounded as though it were almost directly overhead. The storm had reached Port Bastion. Now it was only a short time before the stormclouds would be directly above the Sages’ House itself, and the incantation to infuse the clouds could begin. They had to hurry.
“Come on, we have to get to the North Tower!” cried Jeina, running out of the room with Khylia hot on her heels.
The door to the tower was exactly where May had said it would be. Reaching the end of the hallway in what felt like seconds, the hall dead-ended into a massive wooden door. Jeina flung it open. Behind it was a massive spiral staircase: hundreds and hundreds of stairs climbing upwards to infinity, stretching as far as the eye could see. Jeina wasted no time. She began sprinting up the stairs, taking them two at a time with an energy that even Khylia seemed to have to exert herself to follow. Upwards and upwards they ran, passing floor after floor until the stairs below them stretched downward into darkness. Above them they could see a glimmer of light: a faint beacon of sunlight that grew larger and larger as they ran up the stairs. Even Jeina was now panting for breath, and she heard Khylia breathing heavily behind her, but they could not stop now. They kept climbing, reaching such dizzying heights that Jeina no longer dared to look down, only up at the light that became larger and larger, calling them onwards.
And then, without even realizing it, the two of them climbed the last step. They had reached the top.
They found themselves in a massive circular chamber. The stone walls were decorated with all manner of trophies: ancient scrolls and talismans; ornamental swords, shields, warhammers and bows; silver-rimmed mirrors with runes etched around the borders. Laid across the floor were dozens of wicker baskets, containing herbs of every conceivable kind in enormous quantities. The room had was no ceiling: above them was only the vast, open sky of Port Bastion. The black clouds were gathering above them like moths drawn to a flame.
But the centerpiece of the room was the cauldron. It was without a doubt the largest cauldron Jeina had ever seen. It towered above them, at least forty feet tall, its smooth black sides stretching up towards the storm-darkened sky so far that Jeina had to crane her neck to see the top. Above the rim, she could see the liquid inside bubbling, even though there was no flame to heat it. Shimmering golden fumes wafted up from the cauldron’s mouth up into the sky. The great behemoth called out to the sky itself, and the sky answered.
“Welcome,” said a foreboding voice. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Jeina froze. She did not know how, but she knew that voice. She knew what it belonged to.
Out of the shadows of the cauldron stepped the figure in the crimson robe. This time it was no specter, no projection of light: it was solid and real, and it was standing directly in front of them. Jeina watched in spellbound silence as the crimson-robed figure slowly walked out of the shadows, watching them from under the black void of its hood.
And then it removed its robe.
steelballs3
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simply amazing yet again, cant wait to see what happens next !!!
MatrinZachs
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A riveting chapter that has me on the edge of my seat. I have to know how is behind this genius plan.
Thank you! Definitely great to hear the action is keeping up! 🙂
All will be revealed shortly! Thanks as always for reading!
Featherfall
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Our heroines have done so well...shame if they get tickled into submission, wouldn't it? 😉
A shame indeed! 😀 Without giving too much away, though, I can reveal that the tickling isn't done yet!
