Sablesword
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I thought I had posted this before, but on searching I can't find it here. Anyway it's a sample from my story "Good Faith" in the centaur tickling setting. The complete story is available at the Damsel Theater Token Site. ( http://www.damseltheater.com/galleries.php?id=Sablesword )
Snippet from "Good Faith"
The next morning, Aclina did the tickling herself. Peri and Syna stayed in Rivertree while Celekronus led a mostly-male band of centaurs in a hunt for hidden sorcerers.
This time Zorian sat with his legs lashed together. He had taken one of the metal rods out from its hole and moved the other to the central position, before taking his seat and allowing Aclina to bind his ankles and big toes to it. This left his bare feet staked out much as they had been the day before, just as helpless and vulnerable, but positioned more conveniently for a single tickler to torment.
Aclina offered him the traditional dipper of water, and then splashed the rest over his feet before applying the equally-traditional scrubbing. As he always did with this preliminary, Zorian howled as the stiff-bristled brush worked over his naked soles. He couldn't help it; it tickled enormously even though he knew it wasn't part of the actual torment. "A tender-foot, eh?" Aclina commented.
"Yess," Zorian managed, just before Aclina set in with her fingers and laughter made speech impossible. She has a nasty smile he observed, before the tickling made coherent thought impossible as well.
Aclina kept one hand spidering steadily over his soles, working methodically from toes to ball to instep to heel and back again, covering every inch of both feet. With her other hand she'd make occasional, sudden, flicking attacks, seeking out Zorian's most sensitively ticklish areas. The last of these attacks turned into a lengthy assault that made Zorian throw back his head and roar with laughter. He threw himself from side to side, forced by the tickling to attempt escape yet knowing that escape was impossible. The leather straps held him in place, and the leather thongs kept his feet perfectly positioned for Aclina's attentions. All that could escape was his mirth, forced out of him by Aclina's competent touch on his terribly sensitive soles.
And his soles were sensitive now: This was only the first part of the tickle-torment. More was to come. Aclina switched to a vos-hawk feather, running its tip slowly, lazily, luxuriously over his toes and instep, over the balls of his feet and the heels. This cleverly gentle tickling allowed Zorian to catch his breath, but it didn't allow him to stop squirming. Nor did it let him completely suppress his giggles. They leaked out occasionally, and each time they did the ticklishness of his poor exposed soles seemed to increase.
Zorian couldn't tell how long the tickling had lasted. Each phase seemed to go on for eons, as they always did when he suffered the torment of renewing his pass-tokens. However, when Aclina set aside the feather, he knew that there must still be much more yet to come. "Excellent. Excellent," Aclina said. She held up the knobby wooden roller where he could see it. Where he could anticipate its touch on his helpless, naked soles. "Excellent," she repeated. "You're doing well, but we're still not finished yet."
She applied the wooden roller first to one sole and then the other. This tickling, with its renewed vigor, brought loud laughter from Zorian once again. He tried to set himself to endure, but doing so was impossible. And unnecessary: He had no choice but to endure the continuing tickling of his feet, for however many eternities he still had left to go.
Suddenly Aclina dropped the roller and stepped back. "Show you mercy," she said in a grating, half-strangled voice. "Must show you mercy." She freed his feet and jammed his sandals back on them, then began to undo the other leather straps holding Zorian in the chair.
"Madam Aclina?" Zorian asked uncertainly.
"We must show you mercy," Aclina said again in that same grating tone.
Zorian shook off his tickle-induced befuddlement. He licked his lips, considering his next words carefully. "Who is 'we', Madam Aclina?" he asked at last. But the female centaur didn't answer. She led him back toward the village, carefully avoiding the centaurs searching for the hidden sorcerer - a sorcerer that Zorian grew more certain didn't exist.
Near the edge of the village, Aclina came to a stop. "Get out of my head!" she shouted, her voice no longer half-strangled. "Get! Out! Of! My! Head!"
"Madam Aclina?" Zorian said again. But she galloped away from him into the village, leaving him standing in a cloud of dust.
End of Snippet
As noted above, the complete story is available at the Damsel Theater Token Site. ( http://www.damseltheater.com/galleries.php?id=Sablesword )
Snippet from "Good Faith"
The next morning, Aclina did the tickling herself. Peri and Syna stayed in Rivertree while Celekronus led a mostly-male band of centaurs in a hunt for hidden sorcerers.
This time Zorian sat with his legs lashed together. He had taken one of the metal rods out from its hole and moved the other to the central position, before taking his seat and allowing Aclina to bind his ankles and big toes to it. This left his bare feet staked out much as they had been the day before, just as helpless and vulnerable, but positioned more conveniently for a single tickler to torment.
Aclina offered him the traditional dipper of water, and then splashed the rest over his feet before applying the equally-traditional scrubbing. As he always did with this preliminary, Zorian howled as the stiff-bristled brush worked over his naked soles. He couldn't help it; it tickled enormously even though he knew it wasn't part of the actual torment. "A tender-foot, eh?" Aclina commented.
"Yess," Zorian managed, just before Aclina set in with her fingers and laughter made speech impossible. She has a nasty smile he observed, before the tickling made coherent thought impossible as well.
Aclina kept one hand spidering steadily over his soles, working methodically from toes to ball to instep to heel and back again, covering every inch of both feet. With her other hand she'd make occasional, sudden, flicking attacks, seeking out Zorian's most sensitively ticklish areas. The last of these attacks turned into a lengthy assault that made Zorian throw back his head and roar with laughter. He threw himself from side to side, forced by the tickling to attempt escape yet knowing that escape was impossible. The leather straps held him in place, and the leather thongs kept his feet perfectly positioned for Aclina's attentions. All that could escape was his mirth, forced out of him by Aclina's competent touch on his terribly sensitive soles.
And his soles were sensitive now: This was only the first part of the tickle-torment. More was to come. Aclina switched to a vos-hawk feather, running its tip slowly, lazily, luxuriously over his toes and instep, over the balls of his feet and the heels. This cleverly gentle tickling allowed Zorian to catch his breath, but it didn't allow him to stop squirming. Nor did it let him completely suppress his giggles. They leaked out occasionally, and each time they did the ticklishness of his poor exposed soles seemed to increase.
Zorian couldn't tell how long the tickling had lasted. Each phase seemed to go on for eons, as they always did when he suffered the torment of renewing his pass-tokens. However, when Aclina set aside the feather, he knew that there must still be much more yet to come. "Excellent. Excellent," Aclina said. She held up the knobby wooden roller where he could see it. Where he could anticipate its touch on his helpless, naked soles. "Excellent," she repeated. "You're doing well, but we're still not finished yet."
She applied the wooden roller first to one sole and then the other. This tickling, with its renewed vigor, brought loud laughter from Zorian once again. He tried to set himself to endure, but doing so was impossible. And unnecessary: He had no choice but to endure the continuing tickling of his feet, for however many eternities he still had left to go.
Suddenly Aclina dropped the roller and stepped back. "Show you mercy," she said in a grating, half-strangled voice. "Must show you mercy." She freed his feet and jammed his sandals back on them, then began to undo the other leather straps holding Zorian in the chair.
"Madam Aclina?" Zorian asked uncertainly.
"We must show you mercy," Aclina said again in that same grating tone.
Zorian shook off his tickle-induced befuddlement. He licked his lips, considering his next words carefully. "Who is 'we', Madam Aclina?" he asked at last. But the female centaur didn't answer. She led him back toward the village, carefully avoiding the centaurs searching for the hidden sorcerer - a sorcerer that Zorian grew more certain didn't exist.
Near the edge of the village, Aclina came to a stop. "Get out of my head!" she shouted, her voice no longer half-strangled. "Get! Out! Of! My! Head!"
"Madam Aclina?" Zorian said again. But she galloped away from him into the village, leaving him standing in a cloud of dust.
End of Snippet
As noted above, the complete story is available at the Damsel Theater Token Site. ( http://www.damseltheater.com/galleries.php?id=Sablesword )
