blargblarg
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2010
- Messages
- 396
- Points
- 28
Eowyn awoke with a start, her head throbbing slightly as she tried to recall the events of the previous day. She had visited Gondor to see her friends and celebrate the aniversary of their victory, but now she found herself in an unfamiliar room. She struggled to sit up, only to realize that she couldn't move her arms or legs. Panic surged through her as she looked down to find herslef secured to an intricately crafted set of elven stocks. Her ankles were secured in the padded holes, and her hands were tied firmly behind her back with soft, yet unyielding elven cords. The stocks themselves were a testament to elven craftsmanship—beautifully ornate with delicate carvings, yet incredibly sturdy. The padding made them deceptively comfortable, but the restraint was absolute.
Eowyn struggled against the bindings, trying to free her ankles from the snugly fitting holes. Her feet were immobile, her toes just peeking out on the other side. Her wrists were bound tightly, preventing any movement. The structure of the stocks was designed to hold her securely, and no matter how much she thrashed, she couldn't free herself.
The room around her was softly lit by sunlight filtering through sheer curtains. The walls were adorned with elegant tapestries depicting scenes from elven lore. The bed she lay on was covered in soft, silken sheets, and the stocks, though confining, were padded and comfortable, showcasing the elves' unmatched craftsmanship. Despite the comfort, Eowyn felt a sense of dread creeping over her.
Just then, the door opened, and Arwen entered the room. The elven princess was a vision of grace and beauty, her long dark hair flowing freely down her back. She wore a flowing, lavender gown adorned with delicate silver embroidery, and her eyes, usually filled with kindness, now held a glint of mischief.
"Eowyn," Arwen began, her voice smooth and calm, "I have discovered that during the War of the Ring, you courted my husband, Aragorn."
Eowyn's eyes widened in surprise and fear. "Arwen, I assure you, it was never my intention to come between you and Aragorn. I respect your union deeply."
Arwen's smile was not a warm one. "Regardless of your intentions, Eowyn, I believe some retribution is in order." She approached the stocks, her movements graceful and deliberate. Kneeling down, she began to unlace one of Eowyn's boots. Eowyn watched helplessly as Arwen slid the boot off, revealing her bare foot. Her feet were slender and delicate, with soft, smooth skin. She had well-maintained feet, with perfectly shaped toes and slightly calloused heels from her time in battle boots. Her nails were neatly trimmed and the soles of her feet were sensitive, a stark contrast to her warrior persona.
"Arwen, please," Eowyn pleaded, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn't necessary."
Arwen's smile widened as she stood and faced Eowyn. "Oh, but it is, my dear Eowyn. You see, while you were brave and noble, your heart was swayed by someone who was not yours to desire. This is a reminder that actions have consequences."
Eowyn’s heart pounded. "I never meant to harm your relationship, Arwen. Aragorn is a great man, and I admire him. But I never intended to come between you two."
Arwen raised an eyebrow. "Admiration can often blur into desire. Tell me, Eowyn, did you ever imagine yourself by his side, ruling Gondor?"
Eowyn’s cheeks flushed. "I... I may have imagined it, but it was nothing more than a fleeting thought. I knew it was not my place."
Arwen sighed softly. "Fleeting thoughts can lead to dangerous actions. In this case, your thoughts led you to challenge what is mine. Now, you will learn a lesson in humility and respect."
Without another word, Arwen picked up a delicate feather, twirling it between her fingers with a knowing smile. She began to lightly stroke Eowyn's exposed sole with the feather, causing a soft giggle to escape Eowyn's lips.
"Arwen, please," Eowyn pleaded, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn't necessary."
Arwen chuckled softly. "Oh, but it is, my dear Eowyn. You see, elves have a knack for such things."
The feather danced across Eowyn's sole, gliding over her arch and toes. The sensation was maddening, and Eowyn struggled to keep her laughter in check. Her toes twitched involuntarily, but the bindings kept them in place. As Arwen continued, she began to tease Eowyn verbally.
"Is this ticklish, Eowyn? You seem to be struggling quite a bit," Arwen taunted, her voice sweet and melodic.
Eowyn bit her lip, trying to stifle the laughter bubbling up inside her. "hihihahahhahih nohahahaano stopooahahahahaha"
Arwen smiled triumphantly, the feather continuing its maddening dance over Eowyn's sensitive foot. Eowyn's laughter grew, her body shaking with the effort to escape the relentless tickling. Her foot flexed and curled as best it could within the restraint, but Arwen's skillful manipulation with the feather found every tender spot.
"Such a delicate foot for a warrior," Arwen mused, tracing the feather around Eowyn's heel and the ball of her foot. "I wonder how you managed to fight so bravely with such a vulnerability."
Eowyn's laughter was now uncontrollable, her body arching and writhing with the ticklish sensations. "HAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASEEE STOOAP HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO MOOORE HAHAHAHAHAHA NOT THEEERE! HEHEHEHEHEHE!" NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Arwen then began to unlace Eowyn's other boot, sliding it off to reveal her other bare foot. "Now let's see if your other foot is just as sensitive," Arwen said, picking up a soft brush.
She began to use the brush in slow, deliberate strokes along Eowyn's newly exposed sole. Eowyn's laughter grew louder, her body shaking with the effort to escape the relentless tickling.
"HAHAHAHAHA STOOOP! PLEASE, MERCY! HAHAHAHA IT'S TOO MUCH! HAHAHAHAHA!" Eowyn begged, her voice growing more desperate.
Arwen's eyes sparkled with delight as she continued her merciless assault. "But we're just getting started, Eowyn. This is only the beginning."
The brush moved expertly, finding every sensitive spot on Eowyn's feet. Arwen's fingers joined in, their long nails scratching lightly at the tender skin, sending jolts of ticklish sensations through Eowyn's body. Eowyn thrashed against her restraints, her laughter now uncontrollable.
"HAHAHAHA NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Arwen then picked up a feather duster, its soft plumes teasing Eowyn's soles and in between her toes. The tickling was unbearable, and Eowyn's body jerked violently in response. She could no longer form coherent words, her pleas turning into a mix of laughter and desperate cries.
Arwen's teasing continued, her voice a constant companion to the tickling. "You see, Eowyn, this is what happens when you overstep your bounds. A little reminder of your place."
Eowyn's body was slick with sweat, her muscles aching from the effort of trying to escape. Her laughter was a continuous stream of hysteria, her mind consumed by the ticklish torment. She felt completely at Arwen's mercy, unable to do anything but laugh and beg.
Arwen then tied Eowyn's toes back to the loops on the stocks, ensuring that both feet were immobile. She reached for a small, stiff paintbrush, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She began to twirl the brush around Eowyn's toes, the bristles flicking over the sensitive skin. Eowyn's laughter took on a higher pitch, her body bucking against the restraints.
"HAHAHAHAHA PLEASE, STOP! I'M GOING INSANE! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! MERCY! MERCY! HAHAHAHA!" she screamed, her voice breaking.
Arwen's smile widened as she continued to torment Eowyn with the paintbrush, the bristles exploring every crevice between her toes and along the delicate arches of her feet. Eowyn's mind was a whirl of sensations, her entire world reduced to the tickling and the sound of her own laughter.
Switching tactics, Arwen picked up a pair of delicate, elven-crafted brushes, each with fine, flexible bristles designed to stimulate even the most minute nerve endings. She began to work both feet simultaneously, one brush dedicated to the balls of Eowyn's feet, the other to her heels. The effect was immediate and intense.
"HAHAHAHAHA NO, NO MORE! PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAKE IT! HAHAHAHA!" Eowyn cried, her laughter tinged with hysteria.
Arwen's fingers danced over Eowyn's feet with renewed vigor, while her other hand reached for a slender, pointed feather. She began to lick Eowyn's toes, the sensation sending shockwaves of ticklish pleasure through Eowyn's body. The feather traced intricate patterns on her soles, the light touch driving her wild.
Eowyn's laughter reached a fever pitch, her body convulsing with the intensity of the tickling. "HAHAHAHA! NO, NO! PLEASE, NO MORE! HAHAHAHA!! AHAHAHA! I'M GOING CRAZY! HAHAHAHA! PLEASE STOP!" she screamed, her voice breaking.
Arwen's tongue flicked over Eowyn's toes, her fingers never ceasing their ticklish assault. Eowyn's vision blurred, her mind overwhelmed by the relentless tickling. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, her laughter fading into gasps. But just as she was about to lose consciousness, Arwen paused, giving her a moment to catch her breath.
"You're doing so well, Eowyn," Arwen murmured, her voice almost affectionate. "But we're far from done. You still need to fully understand the consequences of your actions."
Eowyn, gasping for air, managed to whisper, "Please, Arwen, I can't take anymore."
Arwen ignored her plea, reaching for a new tool—an elven-crafted brush with incredibly soft bristles, designed to heighten sensitivity. She began to use it on the underside of Eowyn's toes, the bristles gliding over the delicate skin. Eowyn's laughter started again, softer this time, building up in intensity as the tickling continued.
"NOO NOT THAT NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Eowyn's laughter filled the room once more.
Arwen's fingers joined the brush, her nails scratching lightly at Eowyn's arches while the brush worked on her toes. The combination of sensations was unbearable, driving Eowyn into fits of hysterical laughter. Arwen's voice was a constant presence, teasing and taunting her.
"Such sensitive feet for a warrior. Did you ever imagine they'd be your downfall?" Arwen asked, her tone mocking.
Eowyn's body thrashed against the restraints, her mind a whirl of ticklish agony. "HAHAHAHA NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" she cried, her voice a mix of laughter and desperation.
Arwen then picked up a feather duster, its soft plumes teasing Eowyn's soles and in between her toes. The tickling was unbearable, and Eowyn's body jerked violently in response. She could no longer form coherent words, her pleas turning into a mix of laughter and desperate cries. Eowyn's body was slick with sweat, her muscles aching from the effort of trying to escape. Her laughter was a continuous stream of hysteria, her mind consumed by the ticklish torment. She felt completely at Arwen's mercy, unable to do anything but laugh and beg.
Arwen then reached for a small, stiff paintbrush, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She began to twirl the brush around Eowyn's toes, the bristles flicking over the sensitive skin. Eowyn's laughter took on a higher pitch, her body bucking against the restraints.
"HAHAHAHAHA PLEASE, STOP! I'M GOING INSANE! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! MERCY! MERCY! HAHAHAHA!" she screamed, her voice breaking.
Arwen's smile widened as she continued to torment Eowyn with the paintbrush, the bristles exploring every crevice between her toes and along the delicate arches of her feet. Eowyn's mind was a whirl of sensations, her entire world reduced to the tickling and the sound of her own laughter.
Switching tactics, Arwen picked up a pair of delicate, elven-crafted brushes, each with fine, flexible bristles designed to stimulate even the most minute nerve endings. She began to work both feet simultaneously, one brush dedicated to the balls of Eowyn's feet, the other to her heels. The effect was immediate and intense.
"HAHAHAHAHA NO, NO MORE! PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAKE IT! HAHAHAHA!" Eowyn cried, her laughter tinged with hysteria.
Arwen's fingers danced over Eowyn's feet with renewed vigor, while her other hand reached for a slender, pointed feather. She began to lick Eowyn's toes, the sensation sending shockwaves of ticklish pleasure through Eowyn's body. The feather traced intricate patterns on her soles, the light touch driving her wild.
Eowyn's laughter reached a fever pitch, her body convulsing with the intensity of the tickling. "HAHAHAHA! NO, NO! PLEASE, NO MORE! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! I'M GOING CRAZY! HAHAHAHA! PLEASE STOP!" she screamed, her voice breaking.
Arwen smiled triumphantly, taking one of Eowyn's big toes into her mouth. She sucked it gently, her tongue swirling around it while her fingers continued to dance over Eowyn's soles. The sensation was unlike anything Eowyn had ever felt. She writhed in the stocks, her body shaking with uncontrollable laughter.
"NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HOHOHOHO NOOOT THEEERE! HEHEHEHEHEHE!" Eowyn's desperate cries filled the room.
Arwen moved to the next toe, her mouth enveloping it as she sucked and nibbled gently. Eowyn's laughter reached new heights, her body thrashing wildly. The ticklish sensations were maddening, and she could barely form coherent thoughts.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASEEE STOOAP HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO MOOORE HAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT THEEERE! NOT THE TOEHEHEHEHEHEHE!" Eowyn pleaded, her voice a mix of laughter and desperation.
Arwen continued her methodical assault, moving from toe to toe, each one receiving the same meticulous attention. Her tongue and lips worked in perfect harmony, driving Eowyn to the brink of madness.
When Arwen reached Eowyn's middle toe, she paused to tease her. "This little toe seems particularly sensitive. Let's see how you handle this."
Eowyn's eyes widened in terror as Arwen took the middle toe into her mouth, her tongue flicking over it with maddening precision. The sensation was unbearable, and Eowyn's laughter turned into screams of pure hysteria.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE! BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Arwen moved on to Eowyn's ring toe, her lips and tongue working their magic. Eowyn's body was convulsing with laughter, her mind unable to process the overwhelming ticklish sensations. The room echoed with her desperate pleas and hysterical laughter.
Finally, Arwen reached Eowyn's pinky toe. She took it into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it with the same meticulous attention. The sensation was too much for Eowyn to bear. Her body convulsed violently, and her laughter reached a fever pitch.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOO! NOT THEEERE! HEHEHEHEHEHE! ARRRH STTOAP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAAANT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOAAP! AHAHAHAHAHA!"
Arwen's fingers danced over Eowyn's soles with renewed vigor, while her tongue worked its magic on the pinky toe. Eowyn's vision blurred, her mind overwhelmed by the relentless tickling. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, her laughter fading into gasps.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOO! NO MOOORE! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAPLEASE! STOOOAAP! BWAAAHAHAHAHAHA! MERCY! AHAHAHAHAHAH!" Eowyn's voice was breaking, her mind on the brink of madness.
Finally, Eowyn's body went limp, and she slipped into unconsciousness, her laughter fading into silence as her body surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. Arwen, sensing that Eowyn had reached her limit, gently withdrew her mouth from Eowyn's toe and ceased the tickling. She stood back, observing Eowyn's still form with a mix of satisfaction and admiration for the Shieldmaiden's resilience.
Eowyn lay in the stocks, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her face was flushed with exertion, and a few stray tears glistened on her cheeks from the intense laughter. Her feet, reddened and tingling, were evidence of the merciless tickling they had endured. The restraints that had seemed comfortable at first now felt like shackles, binding her in vulnerability.
Arwen approached Eowyn quietly, her expression softening as she regarded the woman who had dared to vie for her husband's affections. Gently, she untied the leather straps that held Eowyn's feet in place, careful not to disturb her slumber. Once free, she lifted Eowyn into her arms with elven strength and carried her to a nearby bed.
Laying Eowyn down gently, Arwen pulled a blanket over her, tucking her in with care. Eowyn stirred slightly but remained unconscious, her breathing steady and deep. Arwen brushed a stray lock of hair from Eowyn's forehead, a hint of regret flickering in her eyes.
"You will sleep now, Eowyn," Arwen murmured softly. "And when you awaken, you will remember this lesson."
As Arwen turned to leave, she glanced back at Eowyn once more, her thoughts conflicted. She knew she had pushed the boundaries of vengeance, but she also sensed a deeper understanding between them. Eowyn's vulnerability had been laid bare, her spirit tested and her strength measured.
Hours passed before Eowyn stirred from her deep slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking against the soft light filtering through the windows. She felt groggy, her body aching from the ordeal she had endured. As she shifted in bed, memories flooded back—Arwen's gentle yet relentless tickling, the overwhelming sensations that had reduced her to laughter and tears.
Her feet still tingled faintly, the sensation a lingering reminder of Arwen's ministrations. Eowyn sat up slowly, wincing at the soreness in her muscles. She glanced around the room, recognizing it as Arwen's private chambers. The events of the morning came rushing back, and she realized with a mix of embarrassment and indignation how thoroughly she had been bested.
As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, Eowyn winced again at the residual soreness in her feet. She reached down to touch them gingerly, noting the faint pink hue that still colored her soles. The memory of Arwen's lips and tongue on her toes sent a shiver down her spine—a mixture of ticklish memory and a strange, unexpected fear.
As she watched the play of light on the trees, Eowyn's thoughts turned to her next move. Revenge burned in her heart, but tempered by newfound respect. She would bide her time, waiting for the right moment to strike back, the tingling in her feet fading gradually, replaced by a sense of determination.
Eowyn struggled against the bindings, trying to free her ankles from the snugly fitting holes. Her feet were immobile, her toes just peeking out on the other side. Her wrists were bound tightly, preventing any movement. The structure of the stocks was designed to hold her securely, and no matter how much she thrashed, she couldn't free herself.
The room around her was softly lit by sunlight filtering through sheer curtains. The walls were adorned with elegant tapestries depicting scenes from elven lore. The bed she lay on was covered in soft, silken sheets, and the stocks, though confining, were padded and comfortable, showcasing the elves' unmatched craftsmanship. Despite the comfort, Eowyn felt a sense of dread creeping over her.
Just then, the door opened, and Arwen entered the room. The elven princess was a vision of grace and beauty, her long dark hair flowing freely down her back. She wore a flowing, lavender gown adorned with delicate silver embroidery, and her eyes, usually filled with kindness, now held a glint of mischief.
"Eowyn," Arwen began, her voice smooth and calm, "I have discovered that during the War of the Ring, you courted my husband, Aragorn."
Eowyn's eyes widened in surprise and fear. "Arwen, I assure you, it was never my intention to come between you and Aragorn. I respect your union deeply."
Arwen's smile was not a warm one. "Regardless of your intentions, Eowyn, I believe some retribution is in order." She approached the stocks, her movements graceful and deliberate. Kneeling down, she began to unlace one of Eowyn's boots. Eowyn watched helplessly as Arwen slid the boot off, revealing her bare foot. Her feet were slender and delicate, with soft, smooth skin. She had well-maintained feet, with perfectly shaped toes and slightly calloused heels from her time in battle boots. Her nails were neatly trimmed and the soles of her feet were sensitive, a stark contrast to her warrior persona.
"Arwen, please," Eowyn pleaded, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn't necessary."
Arwen's smile widened as she stood and faced Eowyn. "Oh, but it is, my dear Eowyn. You see, while you were brave and noble, your heart was swayed by someone who was not yours to desire. This is a reminder that actions have consequences."
Eowyn’s heart pounded. "I never meant to harm your relationship, Arwen. Aragorn is a great man, and I admire him. But I never intended to come between you two."
Arwen raised an eyebrow. "Admiration can often blur into desire. Tell me, Eowyn, did you ever imagine yourself by his side, ruling Gondor?"
Eowyn’s cheeks flushed. "I... I may have imagined it, but it was nothing more than a fleeting thought. I knew it was not my place."
Arwen sighed softly. "Fleeting thoughts can lead to dangerous actions. In this case, your thoughts led you to challenge what is mine. Now, you will learn a lesson in humility and respect."
Without another word, Arwen picked up a delicate feather, twirling it between her fingers with a knowing smile. She began to lightly stroke Eowyn's exposed sole with the feather, causing a soft giggle to escape Eowyn's lips.
"Arwen, please," Eowyn pleaded, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn't necessary."
Arwen chuckled softly. "Oh, but it is, my dear Eowyn. You see, elves have a knack for such things."
The feather danced across Eowyn's sole, gliding over her arch and toes. The sensation was maddening, and Eowyn struggled to keep her laughter in check. Her toes twitched involuntarily, but the bindings kept them in place. As Arwen continued, she began to tease Eowyn verbally.
"Is this ticklish, Eowyn? You seem to be struggling quite a bit," Arwen taunted, her voice sweet and melodic.
Eowyn bit her lip, trying to stifle the laughter bubbling up inside her. "hihihahahhahih nohahahaano stopooahahahahaha"
Arwen smiled triumphantly, the feather continuing its maddening dance over Eowyn's sensitive foot. Eowyn's laughter grew, her body shaking with the effort to escape the relentless tickling. Her foot flexed and curled as best it could within the restraint, but Arwen's skillful manipulation with the feather found every tender spot.
"Such a delicate foot for a warrior," Arwen mused, tracing the feather around Eowyn's heel and the ball of her foot. "I wonder how you managed to fight so bravely with such a vulnerability."
Eowyn's laughter was now uncontrollable, her body arching and writhing with the ticklish sensations. "HAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASEEE STOOAP HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO MOOORE HAHAHAHAHAHA NOT THEEERE! HEHEHEHEHEHE!" NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Arwen then began to unlace Eowyn's other boot, sliding it off to reveal her other bare foot. "Now let's see if your other foot is just as sensitive," Arwen said, picking up a soft brush.
She began to use the brush in slow, deliberate strokes along Eowyn's newly exposed sole. Eowyn's laughter grew louder, her body shaking with the effort to escape the relentless tickling.
"HAHAHAHAHA STOOOP! PLEASE, MERCY! HAHAHAHA IT'S TOO MUCH! HAHAHAHAHA!" Eowyn begged, her voice growing more desperate.
Arwen's eyes sparkled with delight as she continued her merciless assault. "But we're just getting started, Eowyn. This is only the beginning."
The brush moved expertly, finding every sensitive spot on Eowyn's feet. Arwen's fingers joined in, their long nails scratching lightly at the tender skin, sending jolts of ticklish sensations through Eowyn's body. Eowyn thrashed against her restraints, her laughter now uncontrollable.
"HAHAHAHA NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Arwen then picked up a feather duster, its soft plumes teasing Eowyn's soles and in between her toes. The tickling was unbearable, and Eowyn's body jerked violently in response. She could no longer form coherent words, her pleas turning into a mix of laughter and desperate cries.
Arwen's teasing continued, her voice a constant companion to the tickling. "You see, Eowyn, this is what happens when you overstep your bounds. A little reminder of your place."
Eowyn's body was slick with sweat, her muscles aching from the effort of trying to escape. Her laughter was a continuous stream of hysteria, her mind consumed by the ticklish torment. She felt completely at Arwen's mercy, unable to do anything but laugh and beg.
Arwen then tied Eowyn's toes back to the loops on the stocks, ensuring that both feet were immobile. She reached for a small, stiff paintbrush, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She began to twirl the brush around Eowyn's toes, the bristles flicking over the sensitive skin. Eowyn's laughter took on a higher pitch, her body bucking against the restraints.
"HAHAHAHAHA PLEASE, STOP! I'M GOING INSANE! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! MERCY! MERCY! HAHAHAHA!" she screamed, her voice breaking.
Arwen's smile widened as she continued to torment Eowyn with the paintbrush, the bristles exploring every crevice between her toes and along the delicate arches of her feet. Eowyn's mind was a whirl of sensations, her entire world reduced to the tickling and the sound of her own laughter.
Switching tactics, Arwen picked up a pair of delicate, elven-crafted brushes, each with fine, flexible bristles designed to stimulate even the most minute nerve endings. She began to work both feet simultaneously, one brush dedicated to the balls of Eowyn's feet, the other to her heels. The effect was immediate and intense.
"HAHAHAHAHA NO, NO MORE! PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAKE IT! HAHAHAHA!" Eowyn cried, her laughter tinged with hysteria.
Arwen's fingers danced over Eowyn's feet with renewed vigor, while her other hand reached for a slender, pointed feather. She began to lick Eowyn's toes, the sensation sending shockwaves of ticklish pleasure through Eowyn's body. The feather traced intricate patterns on her soles, the light touch driving her wild.
Eowyn's laughter reached a fever pitch, her body convulsing with the intensity of the tickling. "HAHAHAHA! NO, NO! PLEASE, NO MORE! HAHAHAHA!! AHAHAHA! I'M GOING CRAZY! HAHAHAHA! PLEASE STOP!" she screamed, her voice breaking.
Arwen's tongue flicked over Eowyn's toes, her fingers never ceasing their ticklish assault. Eowyn's vision blurred, her mind overwhelmed by the relentless tickling. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, her laughter fading into gasps. But just as she was about to lose consciousness, Arwen paused, giving her a moment to catch her breath.
"You're doing so well, Eowyn," Arwen murmured, her voice almost affectionate. "But we're far from done. You still need to fully understand the consequences of your actions."
Eowyn, gasping for air, managed to whisper, "Please, Arwen, I can't take anymore."
Arwen ignored her plea, reaching for a new tool—an elven-crafted brush with incredibly soft bristles, designed to heighten sensitivity. She began to use it on the underside of Eowyn's toes, the bristles gliding over the delicate skin. Eowyn's laughter started again, softer this time, building up in intensity as the tickling continued.
"NOO NOT THAT NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Eowyn's laughter filled the room once more.
Arwen's fingers joined the brush, her nails scratching lightly at Eowyn's arches while the brush worked on her toes. The combination of sensations was unbearable, driving Eowyn into fits of hysterical laughter. Arwen's voice was a constant presence, teasing and taunting her.
"Such sensitive feet for a warrior. Did you ever imagine they'd be your downfall?" Arwen asked, her tone mocking.
Eowyn's body thrashed against the restraints, her mind a whirl of ticklish agony. "HAHAHAHA NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" she cried, her voice a mix of laughter and desperation.
Arwen then picked up a feather duster, its soft plumes teasing Eowyn's soles and in between her toes. The tickling was unbearable, and Eowyn's body jerked violently in response. She could no longer form coherent words, her pleas turning into a mix of laughter and desperate cries. Eowyn's body was slick with sweat, her muscles aching from the effort of trying to escape. Her laughter was a continuous stream of hysteria, her mind consumed by the ticklish torment. She felt completely at Arwen's mercy, unable to do anything but laugh and beg.
Arwen then reached for a small, stiff paintbrush, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She began to twirl the brush around Eowyn's toes, the bristles flicking over the sensitive skin. Eowyn's laughter took on a higher pitch, her body bucking against the restraints.
"HAHAHAHAHA PLEASE, STOP! I'M GOING INSANE! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! MERCY! MERCY! HAHAHAHA!" she screamed, her voice breaking.
Arwen's smile widened as she continued to torment Eowyn with the paintbrush, the bristles exploring every crevice between her toes and along the delicate arches of her feet. Eowyn's mind was a whirl of sensations, her entire world reduced to the tickling and the sound of her own laughter.
Switching tactics, Arwen picked up a pair of delicate, elven-crafted brushes, each with fine, flexible bristles designed to stimulate even the most minute nerve endings. She began to work both feet simultaneously, one brush dedicated to the balls of Eowyn's feet, the other to her heels. The effect was immediate and intense.
"HAHAHAHAHA NO, NO MORE! PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAKE IT! HAHAHAHA!" Eowyn cried, her laughter tinged with hysteria.
Arwen's fingers danced over Eowyn's feet with renewed vigor, while her other hand reached for a slender, pointed feather. She began to lick Eowyn's toes, the sensation sending shockwaves of ticklish pleasure through Eowyn's body. The feather traced intricate patterns on her soles, the light touch driving her wild.
Eowyn's laughter reached a fever pitch, her body convulsing with the intensity of the tickling. "HAHAHAHA! NO, NO! PLEASE, NO MORE! HAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA! I'M GOING CRAZY! HAHAHAHA! PLEASE STOP!" she screamed, her voice breaking.
Arwen smiled triumphantly, taking one of Eowyn's big toes into her mouth. She sucked it gently, her tongue swirling around it while her fingers continued to dance over Eowyn's soles. The sensation was unlike anything Eowyn had ever felt. She writhed in the stocks, her body shaking with uncontrollable laughter.
"NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HOHOHOHO NOOOT THEEERE! HEHEHEHEHEHE!" Eowyn's desperate cries filled the room.
Arwen moved to the next toe, her mouth enveloping it as she sucked and nibbled gently. Eowyn's laughter reached new heights, her body thrashing wildly. The ticklish sensations were maddening, and she could barely form coherent thoughts.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASEEE STOOAP HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO MOOORE HAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT THEEERE! NOT THE TOEHEHEHEHEHEHE!" Eowyn pleaded, her voice a mix of laughter and desperation.
Arwen continued her methodical assault, moving from toe to toe, each one receiving the same meticulous attention. Her tongue and lips worked in perfect harmony, driving Eowyn to the brink of madness.
When Arwen reached Eowyn's middle toe, she paused to tease her. "This little toe seems particularly sensitive. Let's see how you handle this."
Eowyn's eyes widened in terror as Arwen took the middle toe into her mouth, her tongue flicking over it with maddening precision. The sensation was unbearable, and Eowyn's laughter turned into screams of pure hysteria.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO NONONO PLEASEEE! BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEHEHEHEHEEE GET AWWAAAAY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Arwen moved on to Eowyn's ring toe, her lips and tongue working their magic. Eowyn's body was convulsing with laughter, her mind unable to process the overwhelming ticklish sensations. The room echoed with her desperate pleas and hysterical laughter.
Finally, Arwen reached Eowyn's pinky toe. She took it into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it with the same meticulous attention. The sensation was too much for Eowyn to bear. Her body convulsed violently, and her laughter reached a fever pitch.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOO! NOT THEEERE! HEHEHEHEHEHE! ARRRH STTOAP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAAANT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOAAP! AHAHAHAHAHA!"
Arwen's fingers danced over Eowyn's soles with renewed vigor, while her tongue worked its magic on the pinky toe. Eowyn's vision blurred, her mind overwhelmed by the relentless tickling. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, her laughter fading into gasps.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOO! NO MOOORE! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAPLEASE! STOOOAAP! BWAAAHAHAHAHAHA! MERCY! AHAHAHAHAHAH!" Eowyn's voice was breaking, her mind on the brink of madness.
Finally, Eowyn's body went limp, and she slipped into unconsciousness, her laughter fading into silence as her body surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. Arwen, sensing that Eowyn had reached her limit, gently withdrew her mouth from Eowyn's toe and ceased the tickling. She stood back, observing Eowyn's still form with a mix of satisfaction and admiration for the Shieldmaiden's resilience.
Eowyn lay in the stocks, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her face was flushed with exertion, and a few stray tears glistened on her cheeks from the intense laughter. Her feet, reddened and tingling, were evidence of the merciless tickling they had endured. The restraints that had seemed comfortable at first now felt like shackles, binding her in vulnerability.
Arwen approached Eowyn quietly, her expression softening as she regarded the woman who had dared to vie for her husband's affections. Gently, she untied the leather straps that held Eowyn's feet in place, careful not to disturb her slumber. Once free, she lifted Eowyn into her arms with elven strength and carried her to a nearby bed.
Laying Eowyn down gently, Arwen pulled a blanket over her, tucking her in with care. Eowyn stirred slightly but remained unconscious, her breathing steady and deep. Arwen brushed a stray lock of hair from Eowyn's forehead, a hint of regret flickering in her eyes.
"You will sleep now, Eowyn," Arwen murmured softly. "And when you awaken, you will remember this lesson."
As Arwen turned to leave, she glanced back at Eowyn once more, her thoughts conflicted. She knew she had pushed the boundaries of vengeance, but she also sensed a deeper understanding between them. Eowyn's vulnerability had been laid bare, her spirit tested and her strength measured.
Hours passed before Eowyn stirred from her deep slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking against the soft light filtering through the windows. She felt groggy, her body aching from the ordeal she had endured. As she shifted in bed, memories flooded back—Arwen's gentle yet relentless tickling, the overwhelming sensations that had reduced her to laughter and tears.
Her feet still tingled faintly, the sensation a lingering reminder of Arwen's ministrations. Eowyn sat up slowly, wincing at the soreness in her muscles. She glanced around the room, recognizing it as Arwen's private chambers. The events of the morning came rushing back, and she realized with a mix of embarrassment and indignation how thoroughly she had been bested.
As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, Eowyn winced again at the residual soreness in her feet. She reached down to touch them gingerly, noting the faint pink hue that still colored her soles. The memory of Arwen's lips and tongue on her toes sent a shiver down her spine—a mixture of ticklish memory and a strange, unexpected fear.
As she watched the play of light on the trees, Eowyn's thoughts turned to her next move. Revenge burned in her heart, but tempered by newfound respect. She would bide her time, waiting for the right moment to strike back, the tingling in her feet fading gradually, replaced by a sense of determination.
