Lake Superior
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Jan 3, 2019
- Messages
- 188
- Points
- 18
Rhea's madness had overtaken her, The Archbishop of Seiros saw enemies everywhere and traitors between them. Even the students of Garreg Mach weren't to be trusted. They were loyal but something within her wanted to them be her's and only hers. She didn't want to hurt them as they'd been entrusted to her of course and so she set to using techniques her mother had left her memories of.
Starting with Lorenz who had earned complaints from some of the female student's Rhea's wrath was meted out. The arrogant young noble was set up nice with his arms folded over his head and bound in the courtyard for all the pilgrims to play with either his naked upper body or those bared feet of his sticking out of the back of the pedestal that he'd been sealed in below his hips. There's a small hole in the front where his cock will protrude if it reaches full erection that will allow the devout to tickle there as well. Lorenz broke after a month out here but Rhea wouldn't let him out until he could go a whole day without letting the rose between his teeth fall in his laughter. Every time it does he gets another week and Rhea's lost count at this point.
Raphael had been confined to his room following a complaint about his eating habits from Professor Manuela. His tickle torment came surreptitiously from a doll that "young" Flayn had been given to play with by the Archbishop. Where ever the little demon stroked upon the doll made the muscleman bark in laughter and fall to the ground. Pokes to the stomach had him gripping his abs, scratches on his neck had him searching for the source of the feathery strokes upon his delt's. When Flayn discovered the sweet taste of the dolls feet that was when Raphael officially started to think that something was up. Maybe Rhea knew what was going on.
Ignatz had dozed off in class and been called to Rhea's chambers where he was given the honor of sharing a bed with the archbishop. A specially fitted one that protruded half his body into her grasp. little Iggy's face, chest, feet, palms, cock and knee's were all Rhea's prey and after a long day of lavishing attention on her students she'd retire to trace a finger up the artist's chest to tickle underneath his chin. The formerly demure little future knight now openly wept hysterical tears and begged of the goddess to free him. He pledged fealty, loyalty, his soul whatever she wanted but she had she wanted his footy, lickable soles all to herself.
The normally dignified Seteth had gotten on Rhea's bad side as well eventually in her paranoia. Discovering her from the screams for mercy from the young member of House Victor, he asked if she'd lost her mind and earned a scream of indignation from her as she summoned the guards to drag him away. He was stripped of his fancy robes and set up in the stables. Bound to a chair his feet had been placed in stocks and given a thick coating of salt water. They'd been descended on by the hungry mounts who'd devoured every inch of the father's feet to the point of riot. Their wild struggle had other avenues opened as well where the man's chest and neck were teased by errant pegasus wings and wildly whipping horse tails. Even Seteth's tears had earned him prehensile wyvern tongues licking them away and getting his ears as well.
Jeritza's wrists were bound above his head as he dreaded the sound of the dining halls doors opening. The tall man knew that his torturers would be in soon as he'd been as the cooks had prepared him. His naked form had been given a bikini of whipped cream with sticky candies placed onto his nipples while he shivered from the scoop of ice cream in his navel and wished he could move his toes, They'd each been indvidually flossed with licorice until they'd retained some sweetness before having his big toes tied with the candy tool. Now they'd each had candy canes hung from them with care as soon his dining partner would be there. The doors opened and the man wearing the armor of the Death Knight entered. The mouth of the armor was open and as Jeritza sighed at another night as a sweet treat he once again wished he'd died in battle.
Cyril would have done anything for Lady Rhea, fought for her, killed for her, died for her but now for the first he wondered what more she wanted? For the ridculous crime of simply sneezing in her presence the insane dragon had him carried away. Cotton balls of mind-shatteringly ticklish fuzz material were forced between his toes, fingers and thighs with a few even personally placed between his ass-cheeks by the archbishop herself. A vibrating chain was brought out and placed under both his pits and as it was pulled taut to suspend him in the air more of it was brought to bring his hands to his sides and his ankles together. He was wrapped tight in fuzzy bandages of the same material as the fuzz balls that the very feeling of made him shriek as he was mummified alive in them. Finally mages gathered round and chanted a spell that shrunk the Almyran down to an inch tall at which point Rhea picked up her new piece of jewelry and hung from her neck. She teased the small brown feet peaking out with a nail and admired her new look in the mirror as she prepared to address the complaints of Claude.
Claude had taken to the field personally to try and stop Rhea's conquest of the hearts and soles of his comrades. He stared her down alone and wondered at her strange choice of troops. Gentle looking men wearing butlers attire stared him down as the Sword of Seiros was raised and the enemies charged him. His bow was torn from his hands as the butlers were quick to overwhelm him with their ticklish gambit. His shoes were ripped off and feather dusters applied to loosen the Riegan heir's tongue as the butler's own went into his armpits while his pants were pulled down. Claude was pulled over one's knee and the gorgeous brown mountains revealed were traced by the men as they told him tales of the Church of Seiros's future conquests of Alliance territory. A naughty finger twirled his puckered asshole as they said that coincidentally that's just where he'd been captured. Claude begged for mercy as the arrows were put between his toes and Rhea had him fitted for his new maid's dress to serve at his ladies side.
Felix couldn't take it. He was tied to a post in the training grounds naked as the day he was born for the knights to practice tickling techniques upon. The claw was so far the best method where in they'd take a big handful of the sulky swordsman's ribs but the ones at his feet were having luck biting on the boy's toes. A pair of knights had taken position to slap his peachy bottom whenever his laughter got too out of control. They were all taking turns in whose socks went in the crying swordsman's mouth while he cried into his gag. They hadn't even played with that perky cock of his yet but that was the next exercise for sure.
Sylvain was confined to his room for his punishment. He spent his days sleeping and reading books occasionally whenever he was able to get some time. He was haunted by ghostly sets of plump red lips, from anywhere they could strike the young noble. On any place of his body they wanted due to their speed and maneuverability. Gentle kisses, hard sucks, wet raspberries and so many other tricks would barrage the former ladies man. His bare skin from head to toes was branded with so many red lipstick marks from the phantoms that feasted on him. At first he'd tried hiding beneath the sheets, under the bed and in the closet they'd all found him there. Then he'd tried fighting them but all that had done was give them more range to play. Now he'd given up, screaming into a pillow as he lay on his belly atop his bed his feet up behind him and engulfed in a cloud of the red devils that nibbled, licked and kissed them raw. He knew it'd stop if he rolled over but his cock was still sticky from the last time he'd done it. Maybe there was something to becoming a one woman man for Lady Rhea.
Dedue had been his lords shield. Since his capture now the man was doing his to reist but it was so hard against the torture that had been concocted for him. Bound down to a table Dedue's feet, nose and nipples were targeted by three pendulums that swung back and forth so maddeningly slow over him. At the end of the arms were simple feathers and when they swung into position to make contact on his skin at first it had been nothing. Just an irritation at first. But over time it had grown. After a day the irritation had made him smile, a week it became a snort, a month made him chuckle. They never changed speed but his reactions drastically changed. A chortle, a guffaw then a howl. Now Dedue screamed and begged nothing but an old crank to stop before he's even been touched by the device. He screamed for Rhea to let him go and that he'd do whatever she wanted. He wasn't to be let up though until after all the Lions gave in.
Ashe had been the last of the Blue Lion's student body to be captured. Seeing how few of his comrades were coming to class he'd managed to just get away when they'd come to capture DImitri and had been sneaking from town to town for awhile having to steal from the Church's soldiers to survive. So it was when one day with a bag full of food he'd been slipping out a window to sneak back to his hideout when an iron hand had seized his ankle. He'd yelped in fear as his shoe was pulled off and he heard Rhea's voice as a the crest of Seiros was lightly traced into his milky sole. His other foot was taken and had the same treatment before he was able to wiggle free. He looked back to see nothing there but a note that said to remove his curse come to the church. Every step Ashe had taken from then on had suddenly made his feet feel immersed in a pool of different tickle tools. They were bathed in a bushel of feathers, then suddenly each toe had found a home in a warm mouth, then the next his heels were being lightly scratched by devilishly manicured nails. He'd been forced to walk back to Garreg Mach like that at which point he was a sobbing mess begging Rhea to make him her little giggle puppet.
Dimitri fought like a monster against the hordes of former friends. Finally he fell against his former housemates, dragged to a bed by his fellow Lions he was tied down and stripped. Felix took claim of his chest and showed off all the new techniques he'd learned from the knights upon this boar who snorted who in laughter. Dedue took a simple feather and swung it maddeningly slow across his liege's nose at the very pace that had broek him so gradually however the combined force of his allies sped along the process. Dimitri's big sore 14's had been claimed by Ashe who traced the crest of the Church onto the canvas with one hand while the other cycled through all the various tools that he'd stolen to try and mimic his own ordeals, it wasn't quite the same but the King of Lions was feeling almost the same amount of overwhelm that the little bookworm had suffered. Dimitri's arms were folded behind his head and his muscled hollows were sieged by a lipstick marked and dizzied Sylvain who demonstrated all the lipservice that sweet mouth had learned in his stay with Rhea. Dimitri roared and broke in a sticky mess over his former classmates but they never slowed for a second. In fact he had to break for six or seven more times before Rhea looked away from her games.From her throne Rhea wordlessly watched Dimitri's torture and ignored the words of her new maid Claude of holding off on punishing the Eagle's instead with the Kingdom and Alliance's heirs captured there was no need for pretense anymore. On her orders her knights came for them in the night and took each of them to their punishments.
Caspar fought hard but eventually he got bundled up and carried away to the church's soft mercies. He was put into an arena with two of the church's golem's that were custom made for this. Rather than hard steel these two's bodies were made with soft fuzz that the mere touch of drove the Bergliez child wild. Everyday Caspar would pick up a weapon of his choice and try so hard to fight them off but always would fall short and be bundled up in a massive child's blanket adorned with fuzzy duckies. It was pulled tight enough to trap him and allowed the golem's to readjust him at their leisure. They'd pull the small warrior's feet free and tease them tenderly until he bawled like an infant in his prison. They'd coo and tease him with deep booming voices that were a drastic clash from the soft baby talk that would tease him. When he was wheezing and about to pass out they'd produce bottles of milk and force them between his lips to get the little warriors strength up for another round. They'd leave him red faced in his blankie for the next day when they'd return until he agreed to be Rhea's personal little tough guy.
The scion of the Aegir family could hardly struggle in his sticky bindings. Ferdinand tried desperately to reflect on anything he could’ve done to upset Lady Rhea, but the paladin had always lauded himself as being an icon of fealty to the Seiros. That’s when the young noble heard it: the buzzing in his ear. The young man trapped snuggly in his pitch-black prison felt movement in the gooey substance locking him in place. Without warning, the vibrations from what must’ve been thousands of bees’ wings could be felt throughout every inch of his body. The black and yellow drones dive bombed into his sweatiest spots, where the honey was collecting the most, and elicited deafening guffaws out of poor Ferdinand. His pits and neck were assaulted with the electric sensations, his ribs and sides felt the maddeningly light wings flapping a thousand times a second, but the torture was made exponentially worse by the hornets now invading the sticky space.Instead of painful toxins, their stingers released a chemical that overstimulated his nerves as they stung his eardrums, nostrils, belly button, asshole, even the tip of his penis (instantly filling up with a sticky substance of its own). The noble screamed and wept in agony, his already hypersensitive spots now feeling tickly torture from the sensation of his own blood pumping under the skin, from sweat dripping down his body, his tickly hair follicles making him giggle with every move they made. None of Ferdinand’s torment could be heard from outside this new man-sized beehive hanging above the monastery tea garden, the only evidence of his capture being the presence of his wiggling size 11 feet sticking out from the bottom. These sweet feet got no reprieve as all the heads of the noble houses sat at a table underneath them. Forced to express their complete subservience to the Church, they ran their cold teaspoons up and down the paladin’s honeyed soles to collect the sweetener for their afternoon tea. Some even made a show of shoving cakes between his long toes, laughing over-theatrically while lapping up jelly and icing off the golden heels and arches. All of this was done to placate the insane archbishop and deflect her ire from them, lest they may find their own privileged feet sticking out of those torturous hives...just like Ferdinand the Bee.
Linhardt missed napping so much. He missed when he was allowed to enjoy his hobbies of sleeping and fishing and when they hadn't been combined into this mind melting torture concocted for him. He'd been sat at the docks for days with a comfortable pillow behind him and a fishing rod beside him. The second part was to mock him of course as he had ten long baits in the water that were his poor water logged toes. His ankles had been chained to the supports of the docks underneath so that they were just tracing the surface of the water. Garreg Mach had changed since he'd been a student here from top to the bottom of this pond. Now all different things dwelled down there and they all love the sage's soles. Mer-folk traced nails along the pillow soft feet until tentacles chased them away to slither along the tops, when all the big ones had departed little guppies nibbled on the toes. Linhardt would howl and beg to nothing until passing out on his pillow where it would get worse. In his dreams he was stalked by a starfish that would wrap around his naked frame and expose his entire body to gentle suckers that kneaded at every inch of his skin it would have which was all but his head. THAT was the property of a little teal haired demon that would play a quill over the his big deathly ticklish ears until he could scream himself awake for the fishies to return.
Hubert had been locked in his room where the mages of the church would watch him as they prepared their spells. Finally one day they stormed in on the mage and cast the curse. Hubert fell down unable to move or a do a thing as the white cloaked mages simply reached down and took away his body parts for separate experiments. His feet became notepads for alchemical research into tickle spells while his hands became the test subjects. His cock was taken by former professor Manuela for her "experiments" on how to please a man and keep him from leaving while his chest became was shared by Catherine and Shamir for new tickle technique training. Hubert's head was left out in a daisy field where the wind could blow the leafs of the flowers to tickle the dark mages nose and ears as he was bathed in sunshine.
Of all the noble families in Fodlan, House Fraldarius alone stood in opposition to Rhea’s tightening chokehold on the continent. Rodrigue led a strike force to infiltrate Garreg Mach and subdue the archbishop, but it would prove fruitless. His allies in House Gautier and Gaspard betrayed his trust to the Church’s spies, and by the time the Fraldarius battalion arrived the surly Gilbert stood in his way. Rodrigue deeply regretted loosing his magic in the decorated veteran of his kingdom, but nonetheless unleashed his Aura tome on the general...only for the deadly Faith magic to reduce Gilbert to a giggling wreck instead of hurt him. Rodrigue was stunned at this, reaching for his lance to see it had been replaced with a gigantic, stiff feather he could barely wield. He had no time to comprehend this as the former aide to the king picked up his own feathery axe and made a last-ditch charge against him. The holy knight swept the weak Gilbert off his feet with his “weapon”, gawking as it wrapped itself around the man’s heavy boots and assaulted the thick 16s like it had a mind of its own!
The bewildered Rodrigue was forced to abandon his transfigured lance and press on with his men past the hidden entrance to the monastery, let inside by a soldier he recognized as the enthusiastic gatekeeper who greeted all the monastery dwellers. They were again stopped, this time by Alois and his brawlers in a long corridor, all equipped with odd mechanical gauntlets. The two battalions charged at each other, but the Fraldarius soldiers were helpless having no proficiency with their now feather-like blades. Those who didn’t accidentally tickle themselves and doom their own exposed necks and ears were beset by Alois’ trained men. Their gauntlets released mechanized bindings to rope up Rodrigue’s knights and rip off their armor with extendable hands, clawing at the sensitive armpits and abs now exposed for tickle torture. Rodrigue figured taking down Alois was the best way to break through the opposition, and launched another “Aura” at the war master. The serial jokester was bathed in light that assaulted every nerve ending in his body, but the effects seemed heightened due to his combat attire barely covering his body. Alois’ round cheeks were red with hysteria as he lay paralyzed on the floor laughing nonstop, his mind unable to process his own body’s hypersensitivity. Despite having clearly beaten the commander, the cpu—ahem—enemy soldiers did not cease their torture on the Kingdom invaders. Left with no choice, Rodrigue left his wailing men and ever-giggling friend Alois behind to continue the mission.
Finally making it to the second floor, the Shield of Faergus was discouraged to not find the archbishop, but a roomful of warlocks spearheaded by Hanneman. Before they could retreat the crest researcher and his large battalion activated a gambit none of the Kingdom’s men had ever seen. The lights blew out in the large room in an instant as a portal of magic energy opened up underneath both forces, releasing a legion of tentacles that captured the combatants indiscriminately. Even as their fellow mages had their robes ripped off like children’s night gowns and their naked bodies tickled madly by dozens of unrelenting limbs, Hanneman and his warlocks launched spell after spell at Faergus’ finest. Fireballs engulfed them in flames that burned away their clothes and tickled them silly. Thunder paralyzed them with overstimulation and Blizzard froze them solid, making them easy pickings for the tickle monster. Rodrigue only lasted thanks to his Aegis Shield, the legacy of House Fraldarius, that deflected most of the magical attacks. With no other option left he activated his last Aura spell, not to damage the resilient spellcasters, but merely to clear a path for himself and anyone else who could escape. Only he and the young gatekeeper who had joined his foolhardy cause could make it to the door, before Hanneman prepared yet another incantation. In an act of utter selflessness the greenhorn soldier begged Rodrigue to escape, charging barefoot and barely clothed at the professor and pushing both of them into the grasp of the summoned creature. Rodrigue could only watch helplessly as friend and former friend were captured and tickled to insanity before his eyes, even the prestigious scholar and eager gatekeeper becoming nothing more than grinning husks broken by the tickle torture. He closed the heavy door with a heavier heart as he climbed the stairs to the third floor, with nothing but his honor to keep one foot in front of the other. Or at least that was what he told himself. In reality, the haggard man making his way down the third floor hallway was himself a hollow shell. His ragged hair clung to his sweating face, his regal cape long lost and clothes torn to pieces. His pale size 13 feet barely had the strength to keep him upright as the soles of his boots peeling off more with every tired step. By the time he reached the balcony overlooking the monastery, he could barely form coherent thoughts, only slurring out nonsensical words: “House Fraudhilarious”, “honor”, “my duty”. The gasping knight couldn’t even recognize the green-haired woman he had come to defeat as she stood right in front of him. Every weapon he had to lose, every former ally he had to defeat, every soldier he sacrificed; it was all for nothing as the broken Shield was pulled away by the archbishop’s men before he could even lay a hand on her.
Rodrigue was molded to the archbishop’s specifications quite easily. Hung upside down from a balcony above the monastery gates, his heavy Aegis Shield was now tied to his wrists as it dangled in midair, it’s weight stretching his naked body taut. On one side of him hung the equally nude forms of Alois and Hanneman, with Gilbert and the gatekeeper on the other side. For the three weeks the five newly dubbed Shields of Seiros were being trained as Rhea’s attack dogs who could exterminate any and all threats to her rule. They were expected to carry out the torturous tickling punishment that each broken man now received on his own feet from the former Blue Lion boys. The giggle pig Dimitri stuffed his nostrils in and out of Alois’ chunky toes like a trough, lapping up his own drool as it collected in the gaps and laughing uncontrollably in reaction to the warrior cumming on himself from the insane stimulation. Sylvain kept himself busy writing inappropriate messages unbecoming of a student across Hanneman’s long soles, promising the weeping warlock that he would cease if the old man renounced his passion for Crests. The gatekeeper fed off of Ashe’s infectious coochie-coos and teasing until he found himself begging for the teen to find every tickle spot in his cute feet, splaying his toes wide in the hopes that Ashe could “unlock his ticklishness”. Gilbert’s rare smile had become commonplace these days from Dedue dutifully raking his rough fingernails up and down the rougher balls of those ginger feet, til they practically exfoliated each other to the point of becoming the softest and most sensitive points of both their bodies.
The older wolf was given no mercy by his loner son Felix, whom like his father barely bore any resemblance to his former self. The swordsman only wielded one “weapon” these days, and it was perfect for sliding across soft soles like Rodrigue’s til they were slick with his cum and primed for an afternoon of hairbrush tickles. The dishonored knight was nothing without his now useless concepts of duty and family legacy, and after weeks of this tickling he begged the brunette who looked oddly like him to cut that heavy shield from his wrists. Rodrigue Fraldarius would never have relinquished the legacy of his house...but Fraud Hilarious gave it up without a second thought for a simple reason: to have his hands free to grab his own “sword” and lather himself in his strong seed while getting his plush feet tickled all day long. Lord Fraud anticipated these training sessions with glee, but was now more and more anxious to begin a tickly crusade on behalf of Lady Rhea as she continued her assault on Fodlan.
Weaving a spell to charm the mind of her former knight captain Rhea sent Jeralt out to capture and restrain his son and take his position at the mercenaries feet.
Byleth can only writhe under his fathers attention as more men file in to join in on the professor's education. Hanneman starts sketching the Crest of Flames onto his stomach while Alois gives him some good old rib ticklers. Gilbert smothers his face with his own massive dogs while Gatekeeper squeezes his cock with enough force to deny him orgasm despite his whines. When the others have left, Gatekeeper alone is the only one that stays. Only he gets to have the pleasure of Byleth’s man juices and gets to rub them all over his body so he can have his own tickle session. With his feet now warm and slick in his own cum, the touch of Gatekeeper is too much for Byleth. Just to keep him pent up with more cum to savor and whining more, Byleth is put into chastity to make sure he cums only when Gatekeeper wants him too. The rest of the night Byleth can only scream laugh beg and cry to be released from his new tickle home.
Starting with Lorenz who had earned complaints from some of the female student's Rhea's wrath was meted out. The arrogant young noble was set up nice with his arms folded over his head and bound in the courtyard for all the pilgrims to play with either his naked upper body or those bared feet of his sticking out of the back of the pedestal that he'd been sealed in below his hips. There's a small hole in the front where his cock will protrude if it reaches full erection that will allow the devout to tickle there as well. Lorenz broke after a month out here but Rhea wouldn't let him out until he could go a whole day without letting the rose between his teeth fall in his laughter. Every time it does he gets another week and Rhea's lost count at this point.
Raphael had been confined to his room following a complaint about his eating habits from Professor Manuela. His tickle torment came surreptitiously from a doll that "young" Flayn had been given to play with by the Archbishop. Where ever the little demon stroked upon the doll made the muscleman bark in laughter and fall to the ground. Pokes to the stomach had him gripping his abs, scratches on his neck had him searching for the source of the feathery strokes upon his delt's. When Flayn discovered the sweet taste of the dolls feet that was when Raphael officially started to think that something was up. Maybe Rhea knew what was going on.
Ignatz had dozed off in class and been called to Rhea's chambers where he was given the honor of sharing a bed with the archbishop. A specially fitted one that protruded half his body into her grasp. little Iggy's face, chest, feet, palms, cock and knee's were all Rhea's prey and after a long day of lavishing attention on her students she'd retire to trace a finger up the artist's chest to tickle underneath his chin. The formerly demure little future knight now openly wept hysterical tears and begged of the goddess to free him. He pledged fealty, loyalty, his soul whatever she wanted but she had she wanted his footy, lickable soles all to herself.
The normally dignified Seteth had gotten on Rhea's bad side as well eventually in her paranoia. Discovering her from the screams for mercy from the young member of House Victor, he asked if she'd lost her mind and earned a scream of indignation from her as she summoned the guards to drag him away. He was stripped of his fancy robes and set up in the stables. Bound to a chair his feet had been placed in stocks and given a thick coating of salt water. They'd been descended on by the hungry mounts who'd devoured every inch of the father's feet to the point of riot. Their wild struggle had other avenues opened as well where the man's chest and neck were teased by errant pegasus wings and wildly whipping horse tails. Even Seteth's tears had earned him prehensile wyvern tongues licking them away and getting his ears as well.
Jeritza's wrists were bound above his head as he dreaded the sound of the dining halls doors opening. The tall man knew that his torturers would be in soon as he'd been as the cooks had prepared him. His naked form had been given a bikini of whipped cream with sticky candies placed onto his nipples while he shivered from the scoop of ice cream in his navel and wished he could move his toes, They'd each been indvidually flossed with licorice until they'd retained some sweetness before having his big toes tied with the candy tool. Now they'd each had candy canes hung from them with care as soon his dining partner would be there. The doors opened and the man wearing the armor of the Death Knight entered. The mouth of the armor was open and as Jeritza sighed at another night as a sweet treat he once again wished he'd died in battle.
Cyril would have done anything for Lady Rhea, fought for her, killed for her, died for her but now for the first he wondered what more she wanted? For the ridculous crime of simply sneezing in her presence the insane dragon had him carried away. Cotton balls of mind-shatteringly ticklish fuzz material were forced between his toes, fingers and thighs with a few even personally placed between his ass-cheeks by the archbishop herself. A vibrating chain was brought out and placed under both his pits and as it was pulled taut to suspend him in the air more of it was brought to bring his hands to his sides and his ankles together. He was wrapped tight in fuzzy bandages of the same material as the fuzz balls that the very feeling of made him shriek as he was mummified alive in them. Finally mages gathered round and chanted a spell that shrunk the Almyran down to an inch tall at which point Rhea picked up her new piece of jewelry and hung from her neck. She teased the small brown feet peaking out with a nail and admired her new look in the mirror as she prepared to address the complaints of Claude.
Claude had taken to the field personally to try and stop Rhea's conquest of the hearts and soles of his comrades. He stared her down alone and wondered at her strange choice of troops. Gentle looking men wearing butlers attire stared him down as the Sword of Seiros was raised and the enemies charged him. His bow was torn from his hands as the butlers were quick to overwhelm him with their ticklish gambit. His shoes were ripped off and feather dusters applied to loosen the Riegan heir's tongue as the butler's own went into his armpits while his pants were pulled down. Claude was pulled over one's knee and the gorgeous brown mountains revealed were traced by the men as they told him tales of the Church of Seiros's future conquests of Alliance territory. A naughty finger twirled his puckered asshole as they said that coincidentally that's just where he'd been captured. Claude begged for mercy as the arrows were put between his toes and Rhea had him fitted for his new maid's dress to serve at his ladies side.
Felix couldn't take it. He was tied to a post in the training grounds naked as the day he was born for the knights to practice tickling techniques upon. The claw was so far the best method where in they'd take a big handful of the sulky swordsman's ribs but the ones at his feet were having luck biting on the boy's toes. A pair of knights had taken position to slap his peachy bottom whenever his laughter got too out of control. They were all taking turns in whose socks went in the crying swordsman's mouth while he cried into his gag. They hadn't even played with that perky cock of his yet but that was the next exercise for sure.
Sylvain was confined to his room for his punishment. He spent his days sleeping and reading books occasionally whenever he was able to get some time. He was haunted by ghostly sets of plump red lips, from anywhere they could strike the young noble. On any place of his body they wanted due to their speed and maneuverability. Gentle kisses, hard sucks, wet raspberries and so many other tricks would barrage the former ladies man. His bare skin from head to toes was branded with so many red lipstick marks from the phantoms that feasted on him. At first he'd tried hiding beneath the sheets, under the bed and in the closet they'd all found him there. Then he'd tried fighting them but all that had done was give them more range to play. Now he'd given up, screaming into a pillow as he lay on his belly atop his bed his feet up behind him and engulfed in a cloud of the red devils that nibbled, licked and kissed them raw. He knew it'd stop if he rolled over but his cock was still sticky from the last time he'd done it. Maybe there was something to becoming a one woman man for Lady Rhea.
Dedue had been his lords shield. Since his capture now the man was doing his to reist but it was so hard against the torture that had been concocted for him. Bound down to a table Dedue's feet, nose and nipples were targeted by three pendulums that swung back and forth so maddeningly slow over him. At the end of the arms were simple feathers and when they swung into position to make contact on his skin at first it had been nothing. Just an irritation at first. But over time it had grown. After a day the irritation had made him smile, a week it became a snort, a month made him chuckle. They never changed speed but his reactions drastically changed. A chortle, a guffaw then a howl. Now Dedue screamed and begged nothing but an old crank to stop before he's even been touched by the device. He screamed for Rhea to let him go and that he'd do whatever she wanted. He wasn't to be let up though until after all the Lions gave in.
Ashe had been the last of the Blue Lion's student body to be captured. Seeing how few of his comrades were coming to class he'd managed to just get away when they'd come to capture DImitri and had been sneaking from town to town for awhile having to steal from the Church's soldiers to survive. So it was when one day with a bag full of food he'd been slipping out a window to sneak back to his hideout when an iron hand had seized his ankle. He'd yelped in fear as his shoe was pulled off and he heard Rhea's voice as a the crest of Seiros was lightly traced into his milky sole. His other foot was taken and had the same treatment before he was able to wiggle free. He looked back to see nothing there but a note that said to remove his curse come to the church. Every step Ashe had taken from then on had suddenly made his feet feel immersed in a pool of different tickle tools. They were bathed in a bushel of feathers, then suddenly each toe had found a home in a warm mouth, then the next his heels were being lightly scratched by devilishly manicured nails. He'd been forced to walk back to Garreg Mach like that at which point he was a sobbing mess begging Rhea to make him her little giggle puppet.
Dimitri fought like a monster against the hordes of former friends. Finally he fell against his former housemates, dragged to a bed by his fellow Lions he was tied down and stripped. Felix took claim of his chest and showed off all the new techniques he'd learned from the knights upon this boar who snorted who in laughter. Dedue took a simple feather and swung it maddeningly slow across his liege's nose at the very pace that had broek him so gradually however the combined force of his allies sped along the process. Dimitri's big sore 14's had been claimed by Ashe who traced the crest of the Church onto the canvas with one hand while the other cycled through all the various tools that he'd stolen to try and mimic his own ordeals, it wasn't quite the same but the King of Lions was feeling almost the same amount of overwhelm that the little bookworm had suffered. Dimitri's arms were folded behind his head and his muscled hollows were sieged by a lipstick marked and dizzied Sylvain who demonstrated all the lipservice that sweet mouth had learned in his stay with Rhea. Dimitri roared and broke in a sticky mess over his former classmates but they never slowed for a second. In fact he had to break for six or seven more times before Rhea looked away from her games.From her throne Rhea wordlessly watched Dimitri's torture and ignored the words of her new maid Claude of holding off on punishing the Eagle's instead with the Kingdom and Alliance's heirs captured there was no need for pretense anymore. On her orders her knights came for them in the night and took each of them to their punishments.
Caspar fought hard but eventually he got bundled up and carried away to the church's soft mercies. He was put into an arena with two of the church's golem's that were custom made for this. Rather than hard steel these two's bodies were made with soft fuzz that the mere touch of drove the Bergliez child wild. Everyday Caspar would pick up a weapon of his choice and try so hard to fight them off but always would fall short and be bundled up in a massive child's blanket adorned with fuzzy duckies. It was pulled tight enough to trap him and allowed the golem's to readjust him at their leisure. They'd pull the small warrior's feet free and tease them tenderly until he bawled like an infant in his prison. They'd coo and tease him with deep booming voices that were a drastic clash from the soft baby talk that would tease him. When he was wheezing and about to pass out they'd produce bottles of milk and force them between his lips to get the little warriors strength up for another round. They'd leave him red faced in his blankie for the next day when they'd return until he agreed to be Rhea's personal little tough guy.
The scion of the Aegir family could hardly struggle in his sticky bindings. Ferdinand tried desperately to reflect on anything he could’ve done to upset Lady Rhea, but the paladin had always lauded himself as being an icon of fealty to the Seiros. That’s when the young noble heard it: the buzzing in his ear. The young man trapped snuggly in his pitch-black prison felt movement in the gooey substance locking him in place. Without warning, the vibrations from what must’ve been thousands of bees’ wings could be felt throughout every inch of his body. The black and yellow drones dive bombed into his sweatiest spots, where the honey was collecting the most, and elicited deafening guffaws out of poor Ferdinand. His pits and neck were assaulted with the electric sensations, his ribs and sides felt the maddeningly light wings flapping a thousand times a second, but the torture was made exponentially worse by the hornets now invading the sticky space.Instead of painful toxins, their stingers released a chemical that overstimulated his nerves as they stung his eardrums, nostrils, belly button, asshole, even the tip of his penis (instantly filling up with a sticky substance of its own). The noble screamed and wept in agony, his already hypersensitive spots now feeling tickly torture from the sensation of his own blood pumping under the skin, from sweat dripping down his body, his tickly hair follicles making him giggle with every move they made. None of Ferdinand’s torment could be heard from outside this new man-sized beehive hanging above the monastery tea garden, the only evidence of his capture being the presence of his wiggling size 11 feet sticking out from the bottom. These sweet feet got no reprieve as all the heads of the noble houses sat at a table underneath them. Forced to express their complete subservience to the Church, they ran their cold teaspoons up and down the paladin’s honeyed soles to collect the sweetener for their afternoon tea. Some even made a show of shoving cakes between his long toes, laughing over-theatrically while lapping up jelly and icing off the golden heels and arches. All of this was done to placate the insane archbishop and deflect her ire from them, lest they may find their own privileged feet sticking out of those torturous hives...just like Ferdinand the Bee.
Linhardt missed napping so much. He missed when he was allowed to enjoy his hobbies of sleeping and fishing and when they hadn't been combined into this mind melting torture concocted for him. He'd been sat at the docks for days with a comfortable pillow behind him and a fishing rod beside him. The second part was to mock him of course as he had ten long baits in the water that were his poor water logged toes. His ankles had been chained to the supports of the docks underneath so that they were just tracing the surface of the water. Garreg Mach had changed since he'd been a student here from top to the bottom of this pond. Now all different things dwelled down there and they all love the sage's soles. Mer-folk traced nails along the pillow soft feet until tentacles chased them away to slither along the tops, when all the big ones had departed little guppies nibbled on the toes. Linhardt would howl and beg to nothing until passing out on his pillow where it would get worse. In his dreams he was stalked by a starfish that would wrap around his naked frame and expose his entire body to gentle suckers that kneaded at every inch of his skin it would have which was all but his head. THAT was the property of a little teal haired demon that would play a quill over the his big deathly ticklish ears until he could scream himself awake for the fishies to return.
Hubert had been locked in his room where the mages of the church would watch him as they prepared their spells. Finally one day they stormed in on the mage and cast the curse. Hubert fell down unable to move or a do a thing as the white cloaked mages simply reached down and took away his body parts for separate experiments. His feet became notepads for alchemical research into tickle spells while his hands became the test subjects. His cock was taken by former professor Manuela for her "experiments" on how to please a man and keep him from leaving while his chest became was shared by Catherine and Shamir for new tickle technique training. Hubert's head was left out in a daisy field where the wind could blow the leafs of the flowers to tickle the dark mages nose and ears as he was bathed in sunshine.
Of all the noble families in Fodlan, House Fraldarius alone stood in opposition to Rhea’s tightening chokehold on the continent. Rodrigue led a strike force to infiltrate Garreg Mach and subdue the archbishop, but it would prove fruitless. His allies in House Gautier and Gaspard betrayed his trust to the Church’s spies, and by the time the Fraldarius battalion arrived the surly Gilbert stood in his way. Rodrigue deeply regretted loosing his magic in the decorated veteran of his kingdom, but nonetheless unleashed his Aura tome on the general...only for the deadly Faith magic to reduce Gilbert to a giggling wreck instead of hurt him. Rodrigue was stunned at this, reaching for his lance to see it had been replaced with a gigantic, stiff feather he could barely wield. He had no time to comprehend this as the former aide to the king picked up his own feathery axe and made a last-ditch charge against him. The holy knight swept the weak Gilbert off his feet with his “weapon”, gawking as it wrapped itself around the man’s heavy boots and assaulted the thick 16s like it had a mind of its own!
The bewildered Rodrigue was forced to abandon his transfigured lance and press on with his men past the hidden entrance to the monastery, let inside by a soldier he recognized as the enthusiastic gatekeeper who greeted all the monastery dwellers. They were again stopped, this time by Alois and his brawlers in a long corridor, all equipped with odd mechanical gauntlets. The two battalions charged at each other, but the Fraldarius soldiers were helpless having no proficiency with their now feather-like blades. Those who didn’t accidentally tickle themselves and doom their own exposed necks and ears were beset by Alois’ trained men. Their gauntlets released mechanized bindings to rope up Rodrigue’s knights and rip off their armor with extendable hands, clawing at the sensitive armpits and abs now exposed for tickle torture. Rodrigue figured taking down Alois was the best way to break through the opposition, and launched another “Aura” at the war master. The serial jokester was bathed in light that assaulted every nerve ending in his body, but the effects seemed heightened due to his combat attire barely covering his body. Alois’ round cheeks were red with hysteria as he lay paralyzed on the floor laughing nonstop, his mind unable to process his own body’s hypersensitivity. Despite having clearly beaten the commander, the cpu—ahem—enemy soldiers did not cease their torture on the Kingdom invaders. Left with no choice, Rodrigue left his wailing men and ever-giggling friend Alois behind to continue the mission.
Finally making it to the second floor, the Shield of Faergus was discouraged to not find the archbishop, but a roomful of warlocks spearheaded by Hanneman. Before they could retreat the crest researcher and his large battalion activated a gambit none of the Kingdom’s men had ever seen. The lights blew out in the large room in an instant as a portal of magic energy opened up underneath both forces, releasing a legion of tentacles that captured the combatants indiscriminately. Even as their fellow mages had their robes ripped off like children’s night gowns and their naked bodies tickled madly by dozens of unrelenting limbs, Hanneman and his warlocks launched spell after spell at Faergus’ finest. Fireballs engulfed them in flames that burned away their clothes and tickled them silly. Thunder paralyzed them with overstimulation and Blizzard froze them solid, making them easy pickings for the tickle monster. Rodrigue only lasted thanks to his Aegis Shield, the legacy of House Fraldarius, that deflected most of the magical attacks. With no other option left he activated his last Aura spell, not to damage the resilient spellcasters, but merely to clear a path for himself and anyone else who could escape. Only he and the young gatekeeper who had joined his foolhardy cause could make it to the door, before Hanneman prepared yet another incantation. In an act of utter selflessness the greenhorn soldier begged Rodrigue to escape, charging barefoot and barely clothed at the professor and pushing both of them into the grasp of the summoned creature. Rodrigue could only watch helplessly as friend and former friend were captured and tickled to insanity before his eyes, even the prestigious scholar and eager gatekeeper becoming nothing more than grinning husks broken by the tickle torture. He closed the heavy door with a heavier heart as he climbed the stairs to the third floor, with nothing but his honor to keep one foot in front of the other. Or at least that was what he told himself. In reality, the haggard man making his way down the third floor hallway was himself a hollow shell. His ragged hair clung to his sweating face, his regal cape long lost and clothes torn to pieces. His pale size 13 feet barely had the strength to keep him upright as the soles of his boots peeling off more with every tired step. By the time he reached the balcony overlooking the monastery, he could barely form coherent thoughts, only slurring out nonsensical words: “House Fraudhilarious”, “honor”, “my duty”. The gasping knight couldn’t even recognize the green-haired woman he had come to defeat as she stood right in front of him. Every weapon he had to lose, every former ally he had to defeat, every soldier he sacrificed; it was all for nothing as the broken Shield was pulled away by the archbishop’s men before he could even lay a hand on her.
Rodrigue was molded to the archbishop’s specifications quite easily. Hung upside down from a balcony above the monastery gates, his heavy Aegis Shield was now tied to his wrists as it dangled in midair, it’s weight stretching his naked body taut. On one side of him hung the equally nude forms of Alois and Hanneman, with Gilbert and the gatekeeper on the other side. For the three weeks the five newly dubbed Shields of Seiros were being trained as Rhea’s attack dogs who could exterminate any and all threats to her rule. They were expected to carry out the torturous tickling punishment that each broken man now received on his own feet from the former Blue Lion boys. The giggle pig Dimitri stuffed his nostrils in and out of Alois’ chunky toes like a trough, lapping up his own drool as it collected in the gaps and laughing uncontrollably in reaction to the warrior cumming on himself from the insane stimulation. Sylvain kept himself busy writing inappropriate messages unbecoming of a student across Hanneman’s long soles, promising the weeping warlock that he would cease if the old man renounced his passion for Crests. The gatekeeper fed off of Ashe’s infectious coochie-coos and teasing until he found himself begging for the teen to find every tickle spot in his cute feet, splaying his toes wide in the hopes that Ashe could “unlock his ticklishness”. Gilbert’s rare smile had become commonplace these days from Dedue dutifully raking his rough fingernails up and down the rougher balls of those ginger feet, til they practically exfoliated each other to the point of becoming the softest and most sensitive points of both their bodies.
The older wolf was given no mercy by his loner son Felix, whom like his father barely bore any resemblance to his former self. The swordsman only wielded one “weapon” these days, and it was perfect for sliding across soft soles like Rodrigue’s til they were slick with his cum and primed for an afternoon of hairbrush tickles. The dishonored knight was nothing without his now useless concepts of duty and family legacy, and after weeks of this tickling he begged the brunette who looked oddly like him to cut that heavy shield from his wrists. Rodrigue Fraldarius would never have relinquished the legacy of his house...but Fraud Hilarious gave it up without a second thought for a simple reason: to have his hands free to grab his own “sword” and lather himself in his strong seed while getting his plush feet tickled all day long. Lord Fraud anticipated these training sessions with glee, but was now more and more anxious to begin a tickly crusade on behalf of Lady Rhea as she continued her assault on Fodlan.
Weaving a spell to charm the mind of her former knight captain Rhea sent Jeralt out to capture and restrain his son and take his position at the mercenaries feet.
Byleth can only writhe under his fathers attention as more men file in to join in on the professor's education. Hanneman starts sketching the Crest of Flames onto his stomach while Alois gives him some good old rib ticklers. Gilbert smothers his face with his own massive dogs while Gatekeeper squeezes his cock with enough force to deny him orgasm despite his whines. When the others have left, Gatekeeper alone is the only one that stays. Only he gets to have the pleasure of Byleth’s man juices and gets to rub them all over his body so he can have his own tickle session. With his feet now warm and slick in his own cum, the touch of Gatekeeper is too much for Byleth. Just to keep him pent up with more cum to savor and whining more, Byleth is put into chastity to make sure he cums only when Gatekeeper wants him too. The rest of the night Byleth can only scream laugh beg and cry to be released from his new tickle home.
