Jaynin
4th Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2003
- Messages
- 1,979
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Many thanks to Fullmetal Ky, whose arm I twisted until he allowed me to write this story.
Its focus is almost wholly feet, which is unusual for me, but there you go.
---
Even the mighty can fall.
Of course, such humility and introspection was far beyond the normal capabilities of Xsara V'sil, and recognizing that some things are better left alone was a concept more foreign still. Being solicitous to others was something else she hadn't quite mastered, and yet for all of her power and brashness, there were times when even her deeds caught up to her, and no amount of shouting or threats would make the consequences go away. In this particular case, Xsara had located a dusty old library in some forgotten backwater in which she suspected there was a tome of particular interest to her gathering dust in the back storage somewhere. What it contained was a mystery to her, but Xsara was certain that possession of this book would be advantageous to her either way. If it helped to enhance her own personal magical power, then that was good. If it turned out that the book was useless to her, then she could use it later as a form of leverage or as a tool with which she could demand an exchange favorable to her with another party. Either way, Xsara V'sil profited, and simply by doing something as easy as traveling to this dreary book depository. She had been congratulating herself, though quietly, on her superior perception in such matters.
And yet it simply went to prove that virtually nothing in this existence went according to plan. The librarian was shockingly pretty, a small but cheerful blonde girl who was, however, immovable on the question of whether or not Xsara could see the storage room. After a short session of grinding her teeth in frustration, Xsara had returned, with her eye on the librarian this time instead of the book, and over a period of some days, as she came into the library and wasted time with books of no consequence, she had used the time alone to ingratiate herself with the librarian and then to seduce her, seizing on the girl's natural submissive inclinations and allowing Xsara to restrain her one day after work, at which time Xsara had tickled the poor girl mercilessly. Xsara, her goal quite at the forefront of her thoughts, teased the girl with her seductive voice, promising to stop if she told her where the archives key was, and upon the giggling librarian doing so, Xsara had promptly gotten up and left, right then and there, leaving the poor librarian tied to a bed and half-stripped.
Eagerly, Xsara had rushed to the room - and that's where the trouble had started. Immediately upon entry, Xsara had found two others in hooded white robes in that room, which gave her pause, but only for a moment. After accosting them, and having neither respond, Xsara decided to just elbow her way in between them, as the aisle was narrow, and continue looking herself. That was the last thing she remembered; now, coming to consciousness in the darkness, her only source of light was a narrow cone that illuminated her and nothing else in the room. The two robed figures were kneeling to either side of the blonde librarian... "Tsk, tsk. Xsara V'sil, powerful human sorceress, poster child for human greed and selfishness." The voice she used now was not the cute, energetic tone from before, but rather the voice of one speaking from long years of experience... "If you think we would let someone like you just barge in and steal such a valuable item, then you vastly underestimate our power. But don't worry; these two are well equipped to teach you a lesson in humility, just the way you like it..." Xsara had thought to call out after the girl as she was leaving the room, but the glimpse of a purple leathery tail sneaking out from under the skirt had given her pause... and then Xsara was alone with the two white-robed freaks. Androgynous, the loose robes hiding all but the lower halves of their faces...
Xsara realized then, as they reached within the wide sleeves of their robes to withdraw silver feathers, what had happened to her. Sitting upright in a chair, heavy ropes were wrapped around her middle just below the breasts, trapping her arms at her sides but otherwise allowing her torso to wiggle about. It was from the knees down that the problem started; her knees, and her thighs, were strapped tight into stout wooden outriggers that came from the pair of stocks that her feet were set into. But these were no ordinary stocks; to either side of both feet were short planks of wood which kept her feet from wiggling left to right, the secure strapping of her legs kept her from moving back and forth, the bar which was pressed against the ball of her foot kept her from pushing forward, and each toe was meticulously tied with thread to an eyebolt set in the top of the stocks' frame. A slight twinge of worry surged through her belly before she quashed it, but that didn't take away from the fact that her feet were, more or less, immobile. Completely immobile - there wasn't even room to wiggle, and as she saw those silvery feather tips approach her soft soles...
Xsara bit her lip and refused to smile. She refused to laugh. She had been through worse than this before, tempered against the dalliances of perverts by... Her thoughts caught when her breath hitched, the result of a feather tip stroking oh so very slowly from heel to sole, teasing at the lowest edge of the bar restraining her feet. No. She would not - again the hitch, the gasp this time, the sudden realization of just how very helpless she was. Setting her teeth together, Xsara's vow went from showing no reaction at all to just not laughing, because try as she might, even her fury at being restrained like this wasn't overpowering the fact that she now had two feathers licking at her soles, teasing up and down and slowly nudging around, waking the nerves in her feet up...
Xsara was infuriated, knowing that her facial expression was something like a big grin with teeth foolishly pressed together and eyes crinkled in the desperate, and usually vain, attempt not to laugh. But there was nothing she could do; she felt cut off from her power, somehow, and with those feathers slowly spreading against her soles, she couldn't... One of them stroked a different way this time, spreading out so that the bristles gently ran over every possible inch of her skin, and a quick snort escaped Xsara's lips. No! She wouldn't... The tactics changed again, now with the very tip of the feathers teasing precisely just under the ball of her foot, sweeping along the arch... She couldn't let herself react, but she did. The feathers touched a particularly sensitive point, and her whole body gave a jump, teeth almost audibly grinding as each androgynous white-robed figure produced a second feather and started to sweep it along her foot, though one of them started using this feather to get in between her tightly tied toes. It would have made no difference where they went, ultimately. Xsara was nearing the limit of her ability to resist, with her inability to move and the feathers teasing along her sensitive feet...
She hated to admit that her feet were sensitive at all, much less ticklish, something that Xsara dealt with by ignoring it as much as possible and threatening with all of her power those who thought to try anyway. But... whoever these people were, they had her stuck in such a position that she couldn't help but think about it, and once she had started to think about it, the sensation of tickling rapidly consumed all else, battering down the mental walls she had built up. Two feathers slid back and forth in between her toes... the points of two others danced, clashing and rubbing against each other, all along her arch, specifically teasing the inside part. Xsara wanted to howl with fury or ticklish laughter - she wasn't sure which - and pound her fists, preferably into the faces of these two kneeling silently by her set of stocks...
As if able to hear her aggressive thoughts, one of them raised his or her head, and looked at Xsara for just a moment, then returned to his or her work at Xsara's foot. But, to the sorceress' horror, no matter where she looked or what she tried to think about, the vision of her own two feet filled her mind, every detail rendered in terrifying crispness... She could see, very precisely, how the tip of the silver feather slid across the slight hollow made by the arch of her foot, tracing around that area in a slow circle, while the other feather stroked from heel to ball and back down again in an unchanging up-and-down ticklish stroke. Xsara could also see, on her other foot, the feathers that were sliding back and forth between her toes, an uncanny view of how every soft vein of the feather brushed against the sensitive skin, stimulating nerve endings and leading her to curl her toes reflexively. When that didn't work, she did howl, a cry of rage and ticklishness blended into one, a promise to tear the twin ticklers limb from limb even as she screamed confirmation of their technique's effectiveness.
Opening her mouth was the end of her. Once she had done it once, Xsara couldn't bring herself to stop screeching, trying to maintain enough of an edge to her laughter that she could tell herself it was anger and not really ticklishness. No matter how she screamed or shut her eyes, the image of her feet being tickled in her mind persisted, and given the way the image changed as the sensations on her feet shifted, she was fairly sure that she was somehow seeing exactly what they were doing. Like how they had moved all of the feathers to her toes and were gently swishing them back and forth, taking special advantage of her toes' total restraint to run the edge of one feather along the base of them all, while at the same time stroking in and out between random toes with the other feather. They weren't synchronized but agonizing all the same, and the fact that when her brain demanded that her toes curl, not only could she feel it not work, but that she could also see it not work, just made it all the worse.
The soft bristles of the feathers teased the nerve endings in her feet until every single one of them was burning with the attention, sending nonstop signals of ticklish distress to Xsara's brain, where they overrode the feelings of anger she so desperately grabbed for to smother the ticklish sensation. The feelings of helplessness they had taken pains to inflict upon her - the total immobility of her feet, the useless wiggling she was capable of with her torso - lent themselves to feeling ticklishness more acutely. And so it was that Xsara laughed, the raven-haired beauty howling with laughter, feet more helpless than they had ever been as her mind was forced to envision the precise torment inflicted upon her feet. She didn't want to see how the feathers would slowly trace down from her toes back to the soles, and then suddenly flutter up and down on the soles to create a series of quick, light sensations, and then settle back down to provide a slow lick of soft ticklishness that sent a wave of hysteria sweeping through her body with every stroke.
Presently, just after they had returned to tormenting her toes, the librarian returned, this time quite clearly sporting small yellow horns from her temples as well as the tail which peeped out the back of her businesslike skirt. She smirked at the captive Xsara, who nearly went into a fury all over again, and might have succeeded, if the little demoness hadn't knelt down and delivered a quick scratching to one sole with her short fingernails, reducing the sorceress' glare to a quavering giggle. What had galled Xsara upon the girl's reappearance was the fact that, quite obviously, this girl was a young demon, evidenced by the considerably smaller size of her horns. And for Xsara to have been caught and taken in by one so young - it was galling! Yet for all the sheer gall of it, Xsara still couldn't summon her indignation through all the tickling they were inflicting on her. About all she could manage right now was to hide how effective the demoness' tickling was - an order of magnitude worse than the feathers, and feathers were effective enough as it was.
"Well now." The young demoness was using a voice full of authority, to indicate her superior position, and even though Xsara could identify that as fully an amateur's move - a seasoned demoness wouldn't need to reassure herself of her own control - that just made it grate on her all the more, to be outwitted by such a... "It seems that you're pretty much exactly as described. So we'll have to be extra sure that you've learned that some things are better left alone." Xsara glared at the insolence of the girl, and then quailed when she saw what the demoness had really come to do; hand out a few forks to the oddly androgynous ticklers kneeling at the foot of the stocks. "So I'll leave you with them for a while longer. See you in a bit!" And with a giggle she winked at Xsara and left her to the mercy of those silver forks, glinting ominously in the light... though Xsara was pretty sure that was just her imagination.
What definitely wasn't imaginary was the immediate and unbearable outburst of ticklish sensation that flooded her nerves. The two ticklers wielded their forks with the utmost precision, each just employing one for now, but dragging the tines experimentally from the ball of her foot to the heel. The results were explosive; explosive in terms of Xsara's laughter, that is. The raven-haired sorceress shrieked hysterically, self-control shredded in that blizzard of ticklish torment, and her upper body struggles became even more pronounced as she strained herself to try and somehow get free. She could see ever so clearly the motion each fork made as the forks stroked down the outside part of her arch, over and over again, very precisely avoiding the much more sensitive bridge of her sole. That was particularly maddening... they knew! They knew about the weak spot there and were avoiding it deliberately, so they could choose when to drive her over the edge. Not having control over even that much was infuriating.
She shrieked with laughter, resorting to insults and threats that she was in no position to carry out, raven-black hair whipping across her face as she shook her head and laughed hysterically, her breasts heaving with every howl. Emphasized ever so slightly by the tight wrap of rope around her middle, Xsara's chest would normally have attracted its fair share of attention, but she didn't even have that much power. The two white-robed figures proved immune to almost everything, letting the screams and the cries of laughter wash over them as they continued their ticklish work. Xsara, watching those forks trace slowly up and down her soles, wanted to pound her fists in frustration, knowing how they were...
The scream reverberated off the walls of whatever room she was in. Without warning both forks had converged on the left foot, tickling in tandem with short, precise strokes along the inner part of her arch, the spot at which she was by far the most sensitive... The soft flesh quivered and Xsara howled as the staccato pace of the sensations drove her up the wall, sensitive skin under attack by quick, short strokes on those horrifically ticklish areas... and then it stopped. Xsara, figuring she had room for one or two deep breaths before they tried to surprise her with a sudden tickling again, had hardly registered that the forks had stopped before she drew breath, and was suddenly tickled again, but with the forks tracing over the less-ticklish sole and heel now... yet with the memory of being tickled on her arches so fresh, she began to laugh just as hard as she had before. Part of Xsara hoped they would just get it over with now; the anticipation was maddening.
Long minutes stretched past as each tickler employed but a single fork in their torment of her soles. Despite knowing full well how they sought to make her drive herself crazy with waiting, Xsara couldn't stop herself from doing it. Just the thought of that second fork on each foot, no doubt tickling her very most sensitive spot... Her breath caught as she could see each fork slide slowly toward the inner arch, heading for the weakness... and then just as smoothly slid away, a tease that had caused her heart to catch in her throat. Xsara howled with indignant laughter, throat going hoarse from the sheer volume and fury of her hysteria, the discipline she had worked so carefully to build within her wearing down as they reduced the powerful sorceress to giggling ticklish girl. She wanted to wiggle her feet from side to side and curl her toes to impede the tines of the fork, but her feet were stuck fast. There was no movement, no respite, no escape from the ticklish torment...
Xsara nearly sobbed in relief when she saw the second fork that each tickler held rise up and deliver a slow, precise stroke to the bridge of her foot, the inside part of her arch, stroking the entire length of it. She would have sobbed if the action hadn't made her laugh so hard to nearly burst her lungs. The forks, instead of following that with an upward stroke, lifted, traveled up to the same spot as before, and then delivered another slow, soft downward stroke, repeating the process, a tease within a tease. Almost every fiber of her being cried out for them to just end it, to just torture her until she couldn't think, because this godawful teasing was making her want to claw at herself.
It seemed as if her twisted prayer was answered; with a short shift of one fork, a deliberate movement with the other, and suddenly both sensitive zones were under attack by two rapidly tickling forks, stroking and scratching with their dulled tines the sensitive skin, the friction just enough to stimulate every nerve and drive the rapidly deteriorating sorcerss to the brink. Xsara howled lungfuls of laughter, the exhaustion of before forgotten, her back arched as her head whipped back and forth wildly, turning her hair into a stringy mess. Still she howled and cried out with hysteria, great gales of screeching, screaming laughter pouring from her mouth, the unbearable ticklish agony of those tines crawling across her nerve-ridden flesh to torture her in the most exquisite way possible, the only thing that could keep Xsara's attention long after it had passed...
More and more they tickled, seemingly refusing to stop after having spent so much time teasing her, as if their pent-up desire to torture was all gushing out over the dam they had built, forcing the urges to trickle out until finally they could bear it no more. Xsara's dam was obliterated, as if it had never been, the guise of a disciplined, powerful woman turned into a ticklish female whose very soles could be exploited for whatever whim the tormentor saw fit. Even that thought no longer could summon the requisite fury within her. All that was left was laughter; pride was gone, resistance was gone, threats had long since ceased, and even now the laughter seemed to be dying, every drop of it wrung out of her body, yet ticklishness remained. Nothing but ticklishness now, even as her laughter began to die down as her overtaxed lungs started to give up, her feet screamed with their vellication just as strongly now as they had when the ordeal began. Ticklish tines of forks danced through her mind, that perfect image of her tortured feet, blocked in on both sides and refusing to budge no matter how hard she tried to kick or struggle. The perfect bondage, the torture, the precise knowledge of how to get the most out of every inch of her...
Xsara finally started to run out of energy. The tickling never diminished, but her struggling did, no longer even attempting to kick her feet, her torso just slumped limply against the back of the chair she was sitting in. So this was it. Nowhere to go, no energy left to resist... just her traitorous, ticklish feet willingly subjecting her body to ticklish shocks... All she could do was watch it in her mind, now, watch the forks crawl back and forth, scratching insistently like someone rubbing at an instant lottery ticket with a coin, making sure to cover every little inch of the area to be rubbed away. Except that with this ticket all the fun was in the scratching and you won every time. She had to watch it. Xsara wished she could make herself black out but her body was pushed to the point where it was straining her endurance, and somehow, perversely, that kept her from going under... the ticklish tines never stopped. She could see them, watch them never stop tormenting her soles...
"I'd say that you look like you've learned your lesson, but I've also heard that Xsara V'sil never learns lessons, just plots revenge." It was the voice again, and a straw was inserted into her mouth, which she sucked obligingly upon. The water was only vaguely chilled, as if it had just come from the tap, but it was enough. Summoning all the indignation she could muster, Xsara glared at the young demoness and spoke, her voice froggy and thick:
"I'm sure I don't know you, demon, so I'd like to know what makes you think you can speak of me like you know me." That was something that had been bothering her for this entire ordeal, when she was able to think about it. Her feet were finally being unbound from the fiendish stocks that had held them so motionless, and being able to wiggle her toes again nearly made her cry with relief, but the tickling had stopped, so there was no longer any point in it. Yet still the images of forks tickling her feet persisted, enough to make her soles itch slightly with phantom sensation... "I know I've not had dealings with your kind, so tell me how it is that you know of me." Xsara tried to make her voice brook no interference, but the demoness laughed.
"Actually, one of us is quite familiar with you. Everything he said about you proved to be right on the mark." She gestured, and the two robed figures rose, and flipped back their hoods. Xsara's breath caught, thinking that a revelation was coming... but all that was revealed to her were two female faces with slight smiles, one a redhead with a ponytail and the other a blonde with short hair. While she was trying to figure out if she knew either of them, the demoness spoke again. "As you can see... we've got quite a few human contacts, too, so just by virtue of the fact that you don't interact with us doesn't mean we won't know." She gave each a kiss on the cheek and dismissed them with a word, then faced Xsara alone.
"So... it was a human who betrayed me...?" One name instantly came to mind. Then she was surprised to see the demoness shake her head.
"No, this one's a demon, too. But that's about all you need to know." She clicked her fingers and the ropes around Xsara burst into heatless flame and then burned away. "Feel free to make your way back to wherever it was you came from, but I'd advise you not to try the nonsense with the book again. Just to make sure you remember your lesson, we're going to leave you with a reminder..." Xsara cringed, but the demoness simply laughed and left the room, allowing Xsara to leave when she had recovered.
It wasn't until some time later that Xsara realized exactly what the demoness had meant by her "reminder"... but once she had thought about it once, the image of forks stroking her bare soles was impossible to banish...
Its focus is almost wholly feet, which is unusual for me, but there you go.
---
Even the mighty can fall.
Of course, such humility and introspection was far beyond the normal capabilities of Xsara V'sil, and recognizing that some things are better left alone was a concept more foreign still. Being solicitous to others was something else she hadn't quite mastered, and yet for all of her power and brashness, there were times when even her deeds caught up to her, and no amount of shouting or threats would make the consequences go away. In this particular case, Xsara had located a dusty old library in some forgotten backwater in which she suspected there was a tome of particular interest to her gathering dust in the back storage somewhere. What it contained was a mystery to her, but Xsara was certain that possession of this book would be advantageous to her either way. If it helped to enhance her own personal magical power, then that was good. If it turned out that the book was useless to her, then she could use it later as a form of leverage or as a tool with which she could demand an exchange favorable to her with another party. Either way, Xsara V'sil profited, and simply by doing something as easy as traveling to this dreary book depository. She had been congratulating herself, though quietly, on her superior perception in such matters.
And yet it simply went to prove that virtually nothing in this existence went according to plan. The librarian was shockingly pretty, a small but cheerful blonde girl who was, however, immovable on the question of whether or not Xsara could see the storage room. After a short session of grinding her teeth in frustration, Xsara had returned, with her eye on the librarian this time instead of the book, and over a period of some days, as she came into the library and wasted time with books of no consequence, she had used the time alone to ingratiate herself with the librarian and then to seduce her, seizing on the girl's natural submissive inclinations and allowing Xsara to restrain her one day after work, at which time Xsara had tickled the poor girl mercilessly. Xsara, her goal quite at the forefront of her thoughts, teased the girl with her seductive voice, promising to stop if she told her where the archives key was, and upon the giggling librarian doing so, Xsara had promptly gotten up and left, right then and there, leaving the poor librarian tied to a bed and half-stripped.
Eagerly, Xsara had rushed to the room - and that's where the trouble had started. Immediately upon entry, Xsara had found two others in hooded white robes in that room, which gave her pause, but only for a moment. After accosting them, and having neither respond, Xsara decided to just elbow her way in between them, as the aisle was narrow, and continue looking herself. That was the last thing she remembered; now, coming to consciousness in the darkness, her only source of light was a narrow cone that illuminated her and nothing else in the room. The two robed figures were kneeling to either side of the blonde librarian... "Tsk, tsk. Xsara V'sil, powerful human sorceress, poster child for human greed and selfishness." The voice she used now was not the cute, energetic tone from before, but rather the voice of one speaking from long years of experience... "If you think we would let someone like you just barge in and steal such a valuable item, then you vastly underestimate our power. But don't worry; these two are well equipped to teach you a lesson in humility, just the way you like it..." Xsara had thought to call out after the girl as she was leaving the room, but the glimpse of a purple leathery tail sneaking out from under the skirt had given her pause... and then Xsara was alone with the two white-robed freaks. Androgynous, the loose robes hiding all but the lower halves of their faces...
Xsara realized then, as they reached within the wide sleeves of their robes to withdraw silver feathers, what had happened to her. Sitting upright in a chair, heavy ropes were wrapped around her middle just below the breasts, trapping her arms at her sides but otherwise allowing her torso to wiggle about. It was from the knees down that the problem started; her knees, and her thighs, were strapped tight into stout wooden outriggers that came from the pair of stocks that her feet were set into. But these were no ordinary stocks; to either side of both feet were short planks of wood which kept her feet from wiggling left to right, the secure strapping of her legs kept her from moving back and forth, the bar which was pressed against the ball of her foot kept her from pushing forward, and each toe was meticulously tied with thread to an eyebolt set in the top of the stocks' frame. A slight twinge of worry surged through her belly before she quashed it, but that didn't take away from the fact that her feet were, more or less, immobile. Completely immobile - there wasn't even room to wiggle, and as she saw those silvery feather tips approach her soft soles...
Xsara bit her lip and refused to smile. She refused to laugh. She had been through worse than this before, tempered against the dalliances of perverts by... Her thoughts caught when her breath hitched, the result of a feather tip stroking oh so very slowly from heel to sole, teasing at the lowest edge of the bar restraining her feet. No. She would not - again the hitch, the gasp this time, the sudden realization of just how very helpless she was. Setting her teeth together, Xsara's vow went from showing no reaction at all to just not laughing, because try as she might, even her fury at being restrained like this wasn't overpowering the fact that she now had two feathers licking at her soles, teasing up and down and slowly nudging around, waking the nerves in her feet up...
Xsara was infuriated, knowing that her facial expression was something like a big grin with teeth foolishly pressed together and eyes crinkled in the desperate, and usually vain, attempt not to laugh. But there was nothing she could do; she felt cut off from her power, somehow, and with those feathers slowly spreading against her soles, she couldn't... One of them stroked a different way this time, spreading out so that the bristles gently ran over every possible inch of her skin, and a quick snort escaped Xsara's lips. No! She wouldn't... The tactics changed again, now with the very tip of the feathers teasing precisely just under the ball of her foot, sweeping along the arch... She couldn't let herself react, but she did. The feathers touched a particularly sensitive point, and her whole body gave a jump, teeth almost audibly grinding as each androgynous white-robed figure produced a second feather and started to sweep it along her foot, though one of them started using this feather to get in between her tightly tied toes. It would have made no difference where they went, ultimately. Xsara was nearing the limit of her ability to resist, with her inability to move and the feathers teasing along her sensitive feet...
She hated to admit that her feet were sensitive at all, much less ticklish, something that Xsara dealt with by ignoring it as much as possible and threatening with all of her power those who thought to try anyway. But... whoever these people were, they had her stuck in such a position that she couldn't help but think about it, and once she had started to think about it, the sensation of tickling rapidly consumed all else, battering down the mental walls she had built up. Two feathers slid back and forth in between her toes... the points of two others danced, clashing and rubbing against each other, all along her arch, specifically teasing the inside part. Xsara wanted to howl with fury or ticklish laughter - she wasn't sure which - and pound her fists, preferably into the faces of these two kneeling silently by her set of stocks...
As if able to hear her aggressive thoughts, one of them raised his or her head, and looked at Xsara for just a moment, then returned to his or her work at Xsara's foot. But, to the sorceress' horror, no matter where she looked or what she tried to think about, the vision of her own two feet filled her mind, every detail rendered in terrifying crispness... She could see, very precisely, how the tip of the silver feather slid across the slight hollow made by the arch of her foot, tracing around that area in a slow circle, while the other feather stroked from heel to ball and back down again in an unchanging up-and-down ticklish stroke. Xsara could also see, on her other foot, the feathers that were sliding back and forth between her toes, an uncanny view of how every soft vein of the feather brushed against the sensitive skin, stimulating nerve endings and leading her to curl her toes reflexively. When that didn't work, she did howl, a cry of rage and ticklishness blended into one, a promise to tear the twin ticklers limb from limb even as she screamed confirmation of their technique's effectiveness.
Opening her mouth was the end of her. Once she had done it once, Xsara couldn't bring herself to stop screeching, trying to maintain enough of an edge to her laughter that she could tell herself it was anger and not really ticklishness. No matter how she screamed or shut her eyes, the image of her feet being tickled in her mind persisted, and given the way the image changed as the sensations on her feet shifted, she was fairly sure that she was somehow seeing exactly what they were doing. Like how they had moved all of the feathers to her toes and were gently swishing them back and forth, taking special advantage of her toes' total restraint to run the edge of one feather along the base of them all, while at the same time stroking in and out between random toes with the other feather. They weren't synchronized but agonizing all the same, and the fact that when her brain demanded that her toes curl, not only could she feel it not work, but that she could also see it not work, just made it all the worse.
The soft bristles of the feathers teased the nerve endings in her feet until every single one of them was burning with the attention, sending nonstop signals of ticklish distress to Xsara's brain, where they overrode the feelings of anger she so desperately grabbed for to smother the ticklish sensation. The feelings of helplessness they had taken pains to inflict upon her - the total immobility of her feet, the useless wiggling she was capable of with her torso - lent themselves to feeling ticklishness more acutely. And so it was that Xsara laughed, the raven-haired beauty howling with laughter, feet more helpless than they had ever been as her mind was forced to envision the precise torment inflicted upon her feet. She didn't want to see how the feathers would slowly trace down from her toes back to the soles, and then suddenly flutter up and down on the soles to create a series of quick, light sensations, and then settle back down to provide a slow lick of soft ticklishness that sent a wave of hysteria sweeping through her body with every stroke.
Presently, just after they had returned to tormenting her toes, the librarian returned, this time quite clearly sporting small yellow horns from her temples as well as the tail which peeped out the back of her businesslike skirt. She smirked at the captive Xsara, who nearly went into a fury all over again, and might have succeeded, if the little demoness hadn't knelt down and delivered a quick scratching to one sole with her short fingernails, reducing the sorceress' glare to a quavering giggle. What had galled Xsara upon the girl's reappearance was the fact that, quite obviously, this girl was a young demon, evidenced by the considerably smaller size of her horns. And for Xsara to have been caught and taken in by one so young - it was galling! Yet for all the sheer gall of it, Xsara still couldn't summon her indignation through all the tickling they were inflicting on her. About all she could manage right now was to hide how effective the demoness' tickling was - an order of magnitude worse than the feathers, and feathers were effective enough as it was.
"Well now." The young demoness was using a voice full of authority, to indicate her superior position, and even though Xsara could identify that as fully an amateur's move - a seasoned demoness wouldn't need to reassure herself of her own control - that just made it grate on her all the more, to be outwitted by such a... "It seems that you're pretty much exactly as described. So we'll have to be extra sure that you've learned that some things are better left alone." Xsara glared at the insolence of the girl, and then quailed when she saw what the demoness had really come to do; hand out a few forks to the oddly androgynous ticklers kneeling at the foot of the stocks. "So I'll leave you with them for a while longer. See you in a bit!" And with a giggle she winked at Xsara and left her to the mercy of those silver forks, glinting ominously in the light... though Xsara was pretty sure that was just her imagination.
What definitely wasn't imaginary was the immediate and unbearable outburst of ticklish sensation that flooded her nerves. The two ticklers wielded their forks with the utmost precision, each just employing one for now, but dragging the tines experimentally from the ball of her foot to the heel. The results were explosive; explosive in terms of Xsara's laughter, that is. The raven-haired sorceress shrieked hysterically, self-control shredded in that blizzard of ticklish torment, and her upper body struggles became even more pronounced as she strained herself to try and somehow get free. She could see ever so clearly the motion each fork made as the forks stroked down the outside part of her arch, over and over again, very precisely avoiding the much more sensitive bridge of her sole. That was particularly maddening... they knew! They knew about the weak spot there and were avoiding it deliberately, so they could choose when to drive her over the edge. Not having control over even that much was infuriating.
She shrieked with laughter, resorting to insults and threats that she was in no position to carry out, raven-black hair whipping across her face as she shook her head and laughed hysterically, her breasts heaving with every howl. Emphasized ever so slightly by the tight wrap of rope around her middle, Xsara's chest would normally have attracted its fair share of attention, but she didn't even have that much power. The two white-robed figures proved immune to almost everything, letting the screams and the cries of laughter wash over them as they continued their ticklish work. Xsara, watching those forks trace slowly up and down her soles, wanted to pound her fists in frustration, knowing how they were...
The scream reverberated off the walls of whatever room she was in. Without warning both forks had converged on the left foot, tickling in tandem with short, precise strokes along the inner part of her arch, the spot at which she was by far the most sensitive... The soft flesh quivered and Xsara howled as the staccato pace of the sensations drove her up the wall, sensitive skin under attack by quick, short strokes on those horrifically ticklish areas... and then it stopped. Xsara, figuring she had room for one or two deep breaths before they tried to surprise her with a sudden tickling again, had hardly registered that the forks had stopped before she drew breath, and was suddenly tickled again, but with the forks tracing over the less-ticklish sole and heel now... yet with the memory of being tickled on her arches so fresh, she began to laugh just as hard as she had before. Part of Xsara hoped they would just get it over with now; the anticipation was maddening.
Long minutes stretched past as each tickler employed but a single fork in their torment of her soles. Despite knowing full well how they sought to make her drive herself crazy with waiting, Xsara couldn't stop herself from doing it. Just the thought of that second fork on each foot, no doubt tickling her very most sensitive spot... Her breath caught as she could see each fork slide slowly toward the inner arch, heading for the weakness... and then just as smoothly slid away, a tease that had caused her heart to catch in her throat. Xsara howled with indignant laughter, throat going hoarse from the sheer volume and fury of her hysteria, the discipline she had worked so carefully to build within her wearing down as they reduced the powerful sorceress to giggling ticklish girl. She wanted to wiggle her feet from side to side and curl her toes to impede the tines of the fork, but her feet were stuck fast. There was no movement, no respite, no escape from the ticklish torment...
Xsara nearly sobbed in relief when she saw the second fork that each tickler held rise up and deliver a slow, precise stroke to the bridge of her foot, the inside part of her arch, stroking the entire length of it. She would have sobbed if the action hadn't made her laugh so hard to nearly burst her lungs. The forks, instead of following that with an upward stroke, lifted, traveled up to the same spot as before, and then delivered another slow, soft downward stroke, repeating the process, a tease within a tease. Almost every fiber of her being cried out for them to just end it, to just torture her until she couldn't think, because this godawful teasing was making her want to claw at herself.
It seemed as if her twisted prayer was answered; with a short shift of one fork, a deliberate movement with the other, and suddenly both sensitive zones were under attack by two rapidly tickling forks, stroking and scratching with their dulled tines the sensitive skin, the friction just enough to stimulate every nerve and drive the rapidly deteriorating sorcerss to the brink. Xsara howled lungfuls of laughter, the exhaustion of before forgotten, her back arched as her head whipped back and forth wildly, turning her hair into a stringy mess. Still she howled and cried out with hysteria, great gales of screeching, screaming laughter pouring from her mouth, the unbearable ticklish agony of those tines crawling across her nerve-ridden flesh to torture her in the most exquisite way possible, the only thing that could keep Xsara's attention long after it had passed...
More and more they tickled, seemingly refusing to stop after having spent so much time teasing her, as if their pent-up desire to torture was all gushing out over the dam they had built, forcing the urges to trickle out until finally they could bear it no more. Xsara's dam was obliterated, as if it had never been, the guise of a disciplined, powerful woman turned into a ticklish female whose very soles could be exploited for whatever whim the tormentor saw fit. Even that thought no longer could summon the requisite fury within her. All that was left was laughter; pride was gone, resistance was gone, threats had long since ceased, and even now the laughter seemed to be dying, every drop of it wrung out of her body, yet ticklishness remained. Nothing but ticklishness now, even as her laughter began to die down as her overtaxed lungs started to give up, her feet screamed with their vellication just as strongly now as they had when the ordeal began. Ticklish tines of forks danced through her mind, that perfect image of her tortured feet, blocked in on both sides and refusing to budge no matter how hard she tried to kick or struggle. The perfect bondage, the torture, the precise knowledge of how to get the most out of every inch of her...
Xsara finally started to run out of energy. The tickling never diminished, but her struggling did, no longer even attempting to kick her feet, her torso just slumped limply against the back of the chair she was sitting in. So this was it. Nowhere to go, no energy left to resist... just her traitorous, ticklish feet willingly subjecting her body to ticklish shocks... All she could do was watch it in her mind, now, watch the forks crawl back and forth, scratching insistently like someone rubbing at an instant lottery ticket with a coin, making sure to cover every little inch of the area to be rubbed away. Except that with this ticket all the fun was in the scratching and you won every time. She had to watch it. Xsara wished she could make herself black out but her body was pushed to the point where it was straining her endurance, and somehow, perversely, that kept her from going under... the ticklish tines never stopped. She could see them, watch them never stop tormenting her soles...
"I'd say that you look like you've learned your lesson, but I've also heard that Xsara V'sil never learns lessons, just plots revenge." It was the voice again, and a straw was inserted into her mouth, which she sucked obligingly upon. The water was only vaguely chilled, as if it had just come from the tap, but it was enough. Summoning all the indignation she could muster, Xsara glared at the young demoness and spoke, her voice froggy and thick:
"I'm sure I don't know you, demon, so I'd like to know what makes you think you can speak of me like you know me." That was something that had been bothering her for this entire ordeal, when she was able to think about it. Her feet were finally being unbound from the fiendish stocks that had held them so motionless, and being able to wiggle her toes again nearly made her cry with relief, but the tickling had stopped, so there was no longer any point in it. Yet still the images of forks tickling her feet persisted, enough to make her soles itch slightly with phantom sensation... "I know I've not had dealings with your kind, so tell me how it is that you know of me." Xsara tried to make her voice brook no interference, but the demoness laughed.
"Actually, one of us is quite familiar with you. Everything he said about you proved to be right on the mark." She gestured, and the two robed figures rose, and flipped back their hoods. Xsara's breath caught, thinking that a revelation was coming... but all that was revealed to her were two female faces with slight smiles, one a redhead with a ponytail and the other a blonde with short hair. While she was trying to figure out if she knew either of them, the demoness spoke again. "As you can see... we've got quite a few human contacts, too, so just by virtue of the fact that you don't interact with us doesn't mean we won't know." She gave each a kiss on the cheek and dismissed them with a word, then faced Xsara alone.
"So... it was a human who betrayed me...?" One name instantly came to mind. Then she was surprised to see the demoness shake her head.
"No, this one's a demon, too. But that's about all you need to know." She clicked her fingers and the ropes around Xsara burst into heatless flame and then burned away. "Feel free to make your way back to wherever it was you came from, but I'd advise you not to try the nonsense with the book again. Just to make sure you remember your lesson, we're going to leave you with a reminder..." Xsara cringed, but the demoness simply laughed and left the room, allowing Xsara to leave when she had recovered.
It wasn't until some time later that Xsara realized exactly what the demoness had meant by her "reminder"... but once she had thought about it once, the image of forks stroking her bare soles was impossible to banish...
