Lake Superior
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Jan 3, 2019
- Messages
- 187
- Points
- 18
Libra sighed in the darkness, he'd tried to get free from this bondage again and had no more sucess than he'd had an hour ago. He hoped that the others who'd been captured were having more luck at getting free. He'd been silently praying at Castle Askr when his world had suddenly gone white. When he'd gotten his bearings he realized he was in pile of similarly disoriented comrades before a crowd wearing the colors of Muspel. They all tried to fight back but were defenseless in their confused state when it began. A sudden rush of horrid creatures had overtaken them and he could do nothing as his comrades were dragged away in all directions to unknown fates laughing hysterically. It had all happened so fast they all barely had time to react.
A man in a stage magician's garb had leaped forward and placed a top on Merric's head. The mage had shot up into it leaving behind his boots so that only his bare feet protruded from the bottom which the blond magician had been happy to stroke as he walked into the shadows with his new prize. Libra had taken a defensive position alongside the Prince Marth of legend and the swordsman Rutger to protect who they could but could only watch the fates of others. Jaffar had dodged aside as feathery tentacles dragged a shrieking Canas away but before he could even land his lightfeet on the ground was snatched in midair by a feathered creature that carried him away. Libra and his hastily assembled comrades winced at his deep laugh that they'd never heard before. The three sucessfully held each other together and protected a terrified young Raigh as others weren't so lucky. Cormag moved to join them but was descended upon by a cloud of feathers that disappeared with him howling inside it. Raigh trembled against Libra's leg but three stood strong turning away the hands, tentacles and ropes that tried to drag away each of them. A massive white glove took interest in Prince Marth and tried to take him but had difficulty as they all stood together. Libra however was the weakest link as he reached out a hand at the sight of his wife's unconscious form being carried away. His weakness of spirit allowed Prince Marth to be taken and a collar clamped around the necks of both him and Rutger by heavy armored knights. They were dragged in opposite directions as General Helbindi carried away a defiant Raigh under his spitting curses that turned to laughter as his small shoes were left behind.
He was dragged into another room where Loki awaited to cast a spell of paralysis upon the friar to allow troubador's to relieve him of his clothes. His unresponsive form was carried away by a tall stoic footman who he recognized as one of the fallen comrades Surtr had twisted. The man took him to a dark box and locked him into the complex seat that waited him inside it before closing the behind him and leaving him trapped in a pitch and total darkness with nothing but his thoughts and failings towards himself and all of his comrades and how he deserved whatever punishment awaited him for this and all of his sins past.
All he could see was the inside of this narrow booth of sturdy wood, clearly meant for a single person to occupy. Though it was sealed on all four sides, it vaguely resembled one of the confessionals the saint was quite accustomed to occupying as a clergyman back in his home realm. He sat on a familiar bench connecting the walls on either side of him, though his bare nakedness made for a quite alien experience. The only light in the tight space faintly emanated not a from a typical curtain for anonymity, but from a small, latticed screen in the thick wall in front of him. Libra’s lithe, chiseled figure sat bound securely in leather straps with his arms stretched above him; his wrists hanging over his head. His long legs had been stretched out in front of him, the tight space of the box forcing his ankles out the wall through two padded holes. The priest’s supple yet surprisingly masculine feet - broad balls and deep arches with long, meaty toes of alabaster - were trapped on the other side of the wall.
He thought to himself of conversations past before this war had become his new life. Of his many failings to his comrades. The lack of solace Lon'qu had managed to find with the opposite sex and how this woman's face of his had robbed him of being able to comfort the loner. In a situation as this he should have been perfect to help his comrade but failed at that. He'd been happy when the swordmaster had started to open up to the fair ladies thanks to the coachings of the priest Lucius. His heart stung at that name though and the shame he'd felt in the jealousy that had haunted him about that man's sucess with not only Lon'qu but others. When Libra had attempted to soothe the genius Lute of her odd tendencies he'd failed before her stand-offish nature and had watched as again Lucius had lured her to partake in meals with the others by promising it as a learning experience on other worlds , cultures and even species. He saw pain in that man's blue eyes that he knew all too well and saw him wince at the calls of "Ma'am" and "Fair Lass" just as he remembered doing. Still he never attempted to help him due to his belief that one as talented at solving others problems such as he needed the help of sinner in monk's cloth. Whe he'd disappeared after a battle with Surtr and Frederick reported his capture Libra's heart sunk at the petty feeling that had cost him the friendship of a fellow and burdened him with yet more sin.
He'd tried to confide his sin with an unlikely devil who's smile he envied. Henry hadn't even given the inclination of paying to attention to this war in the slightest since Lord Chrom had ordered him to stay within the castle and had seemed genuinely unaware of the going's on until Libra told him. His smile had actually left his lips at the knowledge of Morgan and Robin's capture even though they were not the ones he knew from their world. The description of the fates of the captives though had made the pale mage simply walk away and ignore Libra's calls for him to cool himself. The mage had disappeared from the castle the next day and hadn't been heard from since. That had weighed heavily on him as yet another sin on his tally. He tried to distract himself by peering through the gloom at parts of his gilded birdcage.
The screen in the front wall had a soundproof covering that blocked out all of the monk’s demands for release. Libra called to learn what had become of his friends and received nothing but his own voice booming back at him. When he'd finally received an answer back from his captors though the welfare of the other Heroes had quickly become the last of his worries. For an entire day the devout man was besought by hungry demons that emerged from the shadows inside the tight box. They assaulted the androgynous man with intense and erotic tickling for hours on end, never for the same length of time, never at the same time of day, and never with a consistent period in between sessions for the him to recover.
It’d be the same spots over and over, yet it always felt brand new. No matter how often Libra’s pits and knee caps and belly button and asshole were defiled, each spot seemed to return to its default sensitivity afterwards, preventing any tolerance to the torture to build over time. The demonic wraiths would implement new tools on his upper body and legs every session; no two feathers were alike, and Libra could feel the difference between every single one - as evidenced by the day his long locks were pulled back, and 10 sadistic imps teased every exposed inch of his head and neck with feathers. That particular session lasted three hours, and only ended when the man was overwhelmed by the stimulation and came hard into an imp’s deep-red face...all without his penis being touched even once.
Cumming had become yet another cardinal sin for the priest. He tried to resist the urge every time, but it was only after his inevitable climax that the devils would return to their shadows for a time. Despite himself, the orgasmic euphoria coupled with the relief of seeing those damned creatures fade away would make the holy man moan like a common ***** every time...even though he was well aware of what would come next. Not only did releasing his load send the hell spawn away, it was the only thing that triggered the soundproof cover to slide open, for once letting Libra hear a sound other than his own wrecked cries for mercy. The sensory deprivation had affected him so acutely that it brought him catharsis listening to the sounds outside his small room, even if all he heard was the begging and pleading of his allies as they suffered ticklish annihilation in their own cells.
This respite only lasted seconds, as he still had to repent for his forced ejaculation. When the cover would slide open Libra would be greeted by the face of a prisoner, servant, general, or even Surtr himself. The new arrival would seat themselves outside his booth; tie back the big toes of his vulnerable feet long since sullied by ticklish abuse; anoint them with honey and lavender oils for superhuman levels of sensitivity; and utter the same phrase before damning his soles to hellish punishment: “Beg for forgiveness, Father, for you have sinned.”
This had continued for days that turned to weeks until one day that was different. Libra sat in his cage shaking, awaiting his torment to begin in an attempt to be ready. This had never worked before but it was now all he had. His entire body tensed at every sound and movement inside his sin pit both real and imaginary. Nothing came though, for the entire day for the first time in weeks he sat unmolested and serene until finally he breathed a sigh of relief and winced at the sound of wet splashinto the wall. He sighed at the feeling of warm goo on his powerful thighs and sobbed at what he'd become. Cumming for nothing but his own paranoia. The door opened for his confession and Libra prayed for the first time in awhile that this torturer wouldn't speak and simply mete out his punishment with a dignity that he didn't deserve.
"Nya-ha-ha! Hey-o Libra! You seem to be in a good mood! Wish I could do that hands free! I might go a bit too far though!"
Libra raised a tear streaked, red face to the unbelievable sound of his missing comrade and the sound of the locks to his cell being opened behind him. His confessional door was left open as a pair of small brown hands undid the chains around his wrists. A slight, soft finger stroked up his saintly sole as he felt it's partner being released from it's place in the wall. Despite himself Libra snickered at the sensation still and was rewarded from it with another squeaky laugh from his spiritual supoort in the other booth.
"There! That's a HEX of a better look for you Libra! You should keep that pretty grin on your face for a SMILE! Nya-ha-ha!"
Princess Laevateinn caught the priest when he fell back after being released from his chains and with surprising ease dragged him from his cell and gently lay the much taller monk upon the cold stone floor. Libra was so stunned that he could barely move even when his vision was filled with that familiar smiling pale face. The little mage actually hugged the sweaty and sticky holy man and Libra was struck by how small he was. Should he have sat up the little dark mage would have dangled from his like a pendant alomst two feet from the ground.
"You look so much better with a smile Nya-ha-ha! That sour puss gloom and doom look works for other but on you it's a bit done!"
He nuzzled Libra's chest and smiled wide while the Princess of nudged him in the stomach with a bare foot.
"Isn't this place great?! I thought blood and death was great but all this tickling just has me RAVEN! Nya-ha-ha! It's like dying but everyone's smiling! Pain but where everybody likes it instead of just me!"
"What? I don't like i-BA-HAWHASTAHAHP!"
"See? You love it! Sure stabbing and bleed-y die-die time are nice but isn't it better when everyone having a good time? That's why this worlds great! Everybody's smiling and happy even when they die! They don't bury you they RASPBERRY you! PPBBBBBTTT!!"
Libra could only throw his head back as Henry's little lips blew into his pec. He did not try to throw him off or even stop the young sorcerer. Instead he thought on how much sense his comrade made. His sins in this world were rewarded with laughter and pleasure which made no sense but what made less sense was how he had fought it. He and his allies fought against evil people, monsters and even gods who hurt others and killed them. Not once before coming to this world had he thought of tickling as something he should stop and punish. What his Plegian friend said to him made sense, they had all fought hard in their world and again here but what if it was in error? Maybe this place was not hell as he'd thought in his confessional...but was in fact...
Henry's next words were cut off by a petite foot rubbing on his face.
"Hey...I want some...gimme...c'mon..."
"Hey, Hey royal pain I haven't seen my friend in awhile! Tharja wasn't in the mood but now the her hubbies with us maybe she'll be a bit less gloomy! But now that you mention it..Getting my piggies scratched does sound nice! Hey Libra since we saved your soul and all...wanna punish our SO-mmmpph!!"
Henry's pun was cut off by Laevateinn's foot on his face again.
"No more...talking...c'mon...tickles already..." Laevateinnn insisted.
Henry reclined back and pushed his feet into Libra's face and after a moment Laevateinn did the same while hugging him. Libra looked at the pair of wrinkly chocolate and vanilla soles before him before grabbing the ankles and licking his lips. His tongue slipped out as the sinner reveled in his new found heaven. He couldn't wait to make sure that his friends saw this for themselves.
"Nya-hahahahahahee!~ Your gonna lohohove the baths!"
A man in a stage magician's garb had leaped forward and placed a top on Merric's head. The mage had shot up into it leaving behind his boots so that only his bare feet protruded from the bottom which the blond magician had been happy to stroke as he walked into the shadows with his new prize. Libra had taken a defensive position alongside the Prince Marth of legend and the swordsman Rutger to protect who they could but could only watch the fates of others. Jaffar had dodged aside as feathery tentacles dragged a shrieking Canas away but before he could even land his lightfeet on the ground was snatched in midair by a feathered creature that carried him away. Libra and his hastily assembled comrades winced at his deep laugh that they'd never heard before. The three sucessfully held each other together and protected a terrified young Raigh as others weren't so lucky. Cormag moved to join them but was descended upon by a cloud of feathers that disappeared with him howling inside it. Raigh trembled against Libra's leg but three stood strong turning away the hands, tentacles and ropes that tried to drag away each of them. A massive white glove took interest in Prince Marth and tried to take him but had difficulty as they all stood together. Libra however was the weakest link as he reached out a hand at the sight of his wife's unconscious form being carried away. His weakness of spirit allowed Prince Marth to be taken and a collar clamped around the necks of both him and Rutger by heavy armored knights. They were dragged in opposite directions as General Helbindi carried away a defiant Raigh under his spitting curses that turned to laughter as his small shoes were left behind.
He was dragged into another room where Loki awaited to cast a spell of paralysis upon the friar to allow troubador's to relieve him of his clothes. His unresponsive form was carried away by a tall stoic footman who he recognized as one of the fallen comrades Surtr had twisted. The man took him to a dark box and locked him into the complex seat that waited him inside it before closing the behind him and leaving him trapped in a pitch and total darkness with nothing but his thoughts and failings towards himself and all of his comrades and how he deserved whatever punishment awaited him for this and all of his sins past.
All he could see was the inside of this narrow booth of sturdy wood, clearly meant for a single person to occupy. Though it was sealed on all four sides, it vaguely resembled one of the confessionals the saint was quite accustomed to occupying as a clergyman back in his home realm. He sat on a familiar bench connecting the walls on either side of him, though his bare nakedness made for a quite alien experience. The only light in the tight space faintly emanated not a from a typical curtain for anonymity, but from a small, latticed screen in the thick wall in front of him. Libra’s lithe, chiseled figure sat bound securely in leather straps with his arms stretched above him; his wrists hanging over his head. His long legs had been stretched out in front of him, the tight space of the box forcing his ankles out the wall through two padded holes. The priest’s supple yet surprisingly masculine feet - broad balls and deep arches with long, meaty toes of alabaster - were trapped on the other side of the wall.
He thought to himself of conversations past before this war had become his new life. Of his many failings to his comrades. The lack of solace Lon'qu had managed to find with the opposite sex and how this woman's face of his had robbed him of being able to comfort the loner. In a situation as this he should have been perfect to help his comrade but failed at that. He'd been happy when the swordmaster had started to open up to the fair ladies thanks to the coachings of the priest Lucius. His heart stung at that name though and the shame he'd felt in the jealousy that had haunted him about that man's sucess with not only Lon'qu but others. When Libra had attempted to soothe the genius Lute of her odd tendencies he'd failed before her stand-offish nature and had watched as again Lucius had lured her to partake in meals with the others by promising it as a learning experience on other worlds , cultures and even species. He saw pain in that man's blue eyes that he knew all too well and saw him wince at the calls of "Ma'am" and "Fair Lass" just as he remembered doing. Still he never attempted to help him due to his belief that one as talented at solving others problems such as he needed the help of sinner in monk's cloth. Whe he'd disappeared after a battle with Surtr and Frederick reported his capture Libra's heart sunk at the petty feeling that had cost him the friendship of a fellow and burdened him with yet more sin.
He'd tried to confide his sin with an unlikely devil who's smile he envied. Henry hadn't even given the inclination of paying to attention to this war in the slightest since Lord Chrom had ordered him to stay within the castle and had seemed genuinely unaware of the going's on until Libra told him. His smile had actually left his lips at the knowledge of Morgan and Robin's capture even though they were not the ones he knew from their world. The description of the fates of the captives though had made the pale mage simply walk away and ignore Libra's calls for him to cool himself. The mage had disappeared from the castle the next day and hadn't been heard from since. That had weighed heavily on him as yet another sin on his tally. He tried to distract himself by peering through the gloom at parts of his gilded birdcage.
The screen in the front wall had a soundproof covering that blocked out all of the monk’s demands for release. Libra called to learn what had become of his friends and received nothing but his own voice booming back at him. When he'd finally received an answer back from his captors though the welfare of the other Heroes had quickly become the last of his worries. For an entire day the devout man was besought by hungry demons that emerged from the shadows inside the tight box. They assaulted the androgynous man with intense and erotic tickling for hours on end, never for the same length of time, never at the same time of day, and never with a consistent period in between sessions for the him to recover.
It’d be the same spots over and over, yet it always felt brand new. No matter how often Libra’s pits and knee caps and belly button and asshole were defiled, each spot seemed to return to its default sensitivity afterwards, preventing any tolerance to the torture to build over time. The demonic wraiths would implement new tools on his upper body and legs every session; no two feathers were alike, and Libra could feel the difference between every single one - as evidenced by the day his long locks were pulled back, and 10 sadistic imps teased every exposed inch of his head and neck with feathers. That particular session lasted three hours, and only ended when the man was overwhelmed by the stimulation and came hard into an imp’s deep-red face...all without his penis being touched even once.
Cumming had become yet another cardinal sin for the priest. He tried to resist the urge every time, but it was only after his inevitable climax that the devils would return to their shadows for a time. Despite himself, the orgasmic euphoria coupled with the relief of seeing those damned creatures fade away would make the holy man moan like a common ***** every time...even though he was well aware of what would come next. Not only did releasing his load send the hell spawn away, it was the only thing that triggered the soundproof cover to slide open, for once letting Libra hear a sound other than his own wrecked cries for mercy. The sensory deprivation had affected him so acutely that it brought him catharsis listening to the sounds outside his small room, even if all he heard was the begging and pleading of his allies as they suffered ticklish annihilation in their own cells.
This respite only lasted seconds, as he still had to repent for his forced ejaculation. When the cover would slide open Libra would be greeted by the face of a prisoner, servant, general, or even Surtr himself. The new arrival would seat themselves outside his booth; tie back the big toes of his vulnerable feet long since sullied by ticklish abuse; anoint them with honey and lavender oils for superhuman levels of sensitivity; and utter the same phrase before damning his soles to hellish punishment: “Beg for forgiveness, Father, for you have sinned.”
This had continued for days that turned to weeks until one day that was different. Libra sat in his cage shaking, awaiting his torment to begin in an attempt to be ready. This had never worked before but it was now all he had. His entire body tensed at every sound and movement inside his sin pit both real and imaginary. Nothing came though, for the entire day for the first time in weeks he sat unmolested and serene until finally he breathed a sigh of relief and winced at the sound of wet splashinto the wall. He sighed at the feeling of warm goo on his powerful thighs and sobbed at what he'd become. Cumming for nothing but his own paranoia. The door opened for his confession and Libra prayed for the first time in awhile that this torturer wouldn't speak and simply mete out his punishment with a dignity that he didn't deserve.
"Nya-ha-ha! Hey-o Libra! You seem to be in a good mood! Wish I could do that hands free! I might go a bit too far though!"
Libra raised a tear streaked, red face to the unbelievable sound of his missing comrade and the sound of the locks to his cell being opened behind him. His confessional door was left open as a pair of small brown hands undid the chains around his wrists. A slight, soft finger stroked up his saintly sole as he felt it's partner being released from it's place in the wall. Despite himself Libra snickered at the sensation still and was rewarded from it with another squeaky laugh from his spiritual supoort in the other booth.
"There! That's a HEX of a better look for you Libra! You should keep that pretty grin on your face for a SMILE! Nya-ha-ha!"
Princess Laevateinn caught the priest when he fell back after being released from his chains and with surprising ease dragged him from his cell and gently lay the much taller monk upon the cold stone floor. Libra was so stunned that he could barely move even when his vision was filled with that familiar smiling pale face. The little mage actually hugged the sweaty and sticky holy man and Libra was struck by how small he was. Should he have sat up the little dark mage would have dangled from his like a pendant alomst two feet from the ground.
"You look so much better with a smile Nya-ha-ha! That sour puss gloom and doom look works for other but on you it's a bit done!"
He nuzzled Libra's chest and smiled wide while the Princess of nudged him in the stomach with a bare foot.
"Isn't this place great?! I thought blood and death was great but all this tickling just has me RAVEN! Nya-ha-ha! It's like dying but everyone's smiling! Pain but where everybody likes it instead of just me!"
"What? I don't like i-BA-HAWHASTAHAHP!"
"See? You love it! Sure stabbing and bleed-y die-die time are nice but isn't it better when everyone having a good time? That's why this worlds great! Everybody's smiling and happy even when they die! They don't bury you they RASPBERRY you! PPBBBBBTTT!!"
Libra could only throw his head back as Henry's little lips blew into his pec. He did not try to throw him off or even stop the young sorcerer. Instead he thought on how much sense his comrade made. His sins in this world were rewarded with laughter and pleasure which made no sense but what made less sense was how he had fought it. He and his allies fought against evil people, monsters and even gods who hurt others and killed them. Not once before coming to this world had he thought of tickling as something he should stop and punish. What his Plegian friend said to him made sense, they had all fought hard in their world and again here but what if it was in error? Maybe this place was not hell as he'd thought in his confessional...but was in fact...
Henry's next words were cut off by a petite foot rubbing on his face.
"Hey...I want some...gimme...c'mon..."
"Hey, Hey royal pain I haven't seen my friend in awhile! Tharja wasn't in the mood but now the her hubbies with us maybe she'll be a bit less gloomy! But now that you mention it..Getting my piggies scratched does sound nice! Hey Libra since we saved your soul and all...wanna punish our SO-mmmpph!!"
Henry's pun was cut off by Laevateinn's foot on his face again.
"No more...talking...c'mon...tickles already..." Laevateinnn insisted.
Henry reclined back and pushed his feet into Libra's face and after a moment Laevateinn did the same while hugging him. Libra looked at the pair of wrinkly chocolate and vanilla soles before him before grabbing the ankles and licking his lips. His tongue slipped out as the sinner reveled in his new found heaven. He couldn't wait to make sure that his friends saw this for themselves.
"Nya-hahahahahahee!~ Your gonna lohohove the baths!"