Author’s Note: This
is my first attempt at a tickling story, so please don’t laugh too much. (No
pun intended.) The story itself is dedicated to both Kyle Dragon and
HowlnCmndo, both of whom have inspired me in both past and present.
Morden
Jain Swiftblade trotted
through the open gates of Tylis on her trusty steed Vassago and observed her
surroundings before looking up at the battlements of Tylis castle, which stood
forebodingly at the centre of the town. The young warrior vixen struck an
imposing figure on her mount: strikingly beautiful, lean, athletic, and lightly
clad in weathered brown leather. She bore all the hallmarks of the infamous
Clan of S’Nom, which was famed for hiring out its warriors as mercenaries, and
Jain was one such sword for hire.
As she rode through the
main avenue of the town towards the castle, the myriad townspeople going about
their work ceased their tasks to gaze at the alien mounted figure with a
mixture of fear and curiosity. Jain ignored her watchers with characteristic
disdain, looking only ahead at the steadily growing gatehouse of her
destination.
The young Prince of
Tylis had sent an emissary to S’Nom asking for their assistance in vanquishing
a monster that was supposedly roaming the woods between the outlying villages
of the kingdom. As the S’Nom’s finest warrior, Jain had been selected for the
task, and she was eagerly anticipating the opportunity for yet another victory.
Truth be told, she loved the warrior lifestyle with a lustfully reckless
abandon; and a mere ravening monster would no contest in securing another purse
of gold.
Jain eventually arrived
at the Gatehouse of Tylis castle, and after a stable groom had secured her
mount, she was escorted to the throne room inside the central keep by no less
than a dozen palace guards. Of course, if the assassination of the Tylian Royal
Family were her mission, these pitiful escorts would have posed no
threat. On a lighter note, at least the Prince had an appreciation of how
dangerous a warrior vixen could be, and had shown some respect by taking the
appropriate precautions. However, as
Jain approached the figure seated at the end of the grandiose chamber, she saw
that the way he was looking at her portrayed an air of anything but respect.
Like many of the Tylian nobility, Prince Cassius was a wolf, and along with his
species had gained his position through generations of social dominance by
strength of arms. The Prince himself couldn’t have been older than sixteen, and
by the way he was lustfully ogling her, the young wolf was a resentable
juxtaposition of masculine misogyny.
Prince Cassius slouched
leisurely in his throne and grinned at Jain in what he clearly hoped was a
dashing and alluring way before he spoke:
“You must be Jain Swiftblade
of the S’Nom… I must say, your reputation and your beauty precedes you.”
Cassius’ inane flattery was tediously predictable, and did nothing to ease
Jain’s growing temper as the prince weighed her up like a slab of meat.
“Beauty alone cannot
carry a sword, your highness”, she replied testily, “and the warrior vixens of
the S’Nom are renowned for much more than mere fair looks.”
“Indeed” muttered
Cassius as he continued to gaze at her. Jain’s temper flared.
Gods! Jain thought, Is this condescending brat
employing me or my cleavage?
“With all due respect
highness, I was hired to slay a monster, and I’d appreciate any intelligence
you could give me as to the creature’s nature and whereabouts.” The wolf Prince
snapped out of his demi-trance and for the first time in their conversation,
looked Jain in the face.
“Now there’s a strange
thing… I can tell you where the beast is, roughly, but as to its nature as I
know as much as you. I’ve sent three of my finest Wolf Knights to slay it, and
only one has returned, adamant that he had never found the monster. Shortly
after his return, the Knight handed in his sword and armour, babbling something
about knighthood being too dangerous. Even to this day his friends say that he
refuses to talk about his experiences.” Jain raised an eyebrow.
“Strange indeed.” the
vixen echoed. “Fear not, highness, I have never failed before, and this dread
creature will soon bother you no more.” Cassius grinned at her once again.
“What makes you think a
female will succeed where my finest Wolf Knights have failed?” Jain’s warrior
temper reached boiling point, and she squeezed the hilt of her falchion,
imagining it to be the insolent Prince’s neck.
“I assure you, highness,
that I will vanquish this monster if I find it, that I am certain of,” she
growled. Cassius arrogantly waved her away, the palace guards standing to
attention in preparation to accompany Jain out of the chamber.
“Very well, I’ll await
your return and have payment ready. Guards, escort escort her out.”
An hour later, and Jain
Swiftblade was riding through the rolling Tylian countryside towards the
eastern fringe Katara Forest, where the first and second Wolf Knights had
supposedly disappeared. The hot-tempered young vixen was still fuming over her
encounter with Prince Cassius, but business with business, and the sooner she
was paid the better. Despite the fact that she had no idea of what this monster
looked like, she was characteristically confident that it’d be no match for her
warrior skill. Villagers in the area who had encountered the monster were
apparently reluctant to speak of it, and one peasant girl she had spoken to
personally in a settlement a mile back had acted strangely embarrassed when
questioned. All she would say was that she’d caught a glimpse of it, and ran.
What’s more the young girl had urged Jain not to seek the beast out, saying
that she’d “regret it”. Jain snorted. She’d been a Warrior vixen since she was
17, and at 22 she had nothing to regret after despatching numerous foes whether
for gold or reputation.
At last she reached the
edge of Katara forest, and slowed Vassago to a walk. It was already afternoon,
and she didn’t savour the prospect of entering the forest any later and
searching for her mysterious adversary come nightfall. With this in mind, Jain
steeled herself to the task ahead, dismounted, tied Vassago to a nearby tree,
and entered the forest sword and shield in hand.
Katara forest itself
wasn’t exactly the foreboding domain she expected for a feared monster that had
apparently defeated two of the finest knights in Tylis, and had terrified
several villagers into silence.
Having grown up with
the S’Nom, Jain could appreciate the serene beauty that unspoilt nature had to
offer, and had spent countless hours alone in such surroundings, often hiding
from her hated brothers, especially Jax. She growled to herself, remembering
how they’d treated her as a child, jealous, she told herself, because she was
female, destined for a proud warrior life, while they were condemned to toil in
the fields. The young vixen allowed herself a triumphant smile. She’d
had the last laugh. Jain sent up a thankful prayer to Fortunata, the S’Nom
warrior goddess, whose worship advocated female superiority and the sacred
institution of matriarchy, which formed the basis of her clan. Her heart
swelled with pride; surely nothing could stand before a warrior vixen of the
S’Nom!
Jain continued to stalk
deeper into the forest, the shafts of sunlight piercing the canopy creating an
almost supernatural netherworld bathed in a perpetual green glow. Years of
training meant she made practically no sound as she moved, which is why, after
a while, she noticed that the buzzing of insects and the chirruping of birds
which had greeted her at the tree line were conspicuously absent. The Vixen
stopped, allowing her piercing blue eyes, to take in every detail of the forest
around her, her ears straining for any unusual sound; but all she heard was her
own, calm, controlled breathing. Something wasn’t right. She gripped her
falchion tighter, and drew in her shield closer to her body. After a further
moment’s pause, Jain continued onwards.
It was not long before
Jain came across a clearing, with a stream running partially through it.
Crouching low within a clutch of ferns at the clearing’s edge, she examined the
clearing closely. Apart from the stream, and the green vines and undergrowth
that lined the ground, the clearing was devoid of other features. Concluding
that no threat was evident, Jain stood up, and slowly entered the clearing, a
burgeoning thirst prompting her to make for the stream. She knelt down that the
water’s edge, put down her weapons, cupped her hands, and began to drink the
cool clear water.
She froze. A sound. Unmistakable.
In a flash the warrior
vixen was on her feet, sword and shield gripped tightly, her honed muscles
tensed and rippling. Jain scanned the clearing. Nothing. There it was again!
Suddenly, a movement off to her right caught her eye; it was one of the
Vines! She spun to face the long, green, snakelike form, which was
slithering its way towards her. She stood, at the ready. Then, another sound. Behind
her! Her ears swivelled around, and with a sinking, dread feeling, she
realized it was another vine. What was worse the vines, which lined the
clearing, were all around her. Surprise turned to desperation as her
ears were assailed with the sounds of the snakelike vines slithering across the
ground towards her. Jain turned and started to run towards the edge of the
clearing, but was headed off, as two of the thick green vines reared up in
front of her. She roared defiantly and with lightning speed slashed at the
snakelike tendrils, but they moved impossibly fast, dodging the flashing blade
of her falchion. The vines were rearing up all around her now, waving threateningly,
moving and feigning at her sword thrusts and slashes: all the warrior Vixen
could do was spin, block, slash and dodge. No matter how fast she moved and how
agile she was, she couldn’t cut down any of the vines or stop them from
inexorably closing in on her.
The attack when it
came, happened in an instant, and there was nothing Jain could have done to
stop it. The vines coiled rapidly around her ankles, wrists, and around her
waist, pulling her limbs outwards, and lifting her into the air; all the
warrior vixen could do was roar in defiance and struggle helplessly against her
bonds. It was then she realized, that the vines were warm. These weren’t
vines at all, they were tentacles! Jain’s stomach clenched in
horror as she realized the terrible truth of what had occurred. The clearing
was a trap, the vines were tentacles, she’d found the monster. Jain’s
heart started to pound furiously in her breast as adrenalin coursed through her
veins. For the first time in her young warrior life, she started to experience
sheer, unadulterated, terror.
Jain continued to
struggle to no avail, still gripping desperately to her shield and falchion,
both now completely useless. But still she clung on, hoping against hope that
the monster, wherever it was, would loosen its grip, giving her the chance to
use her weapons. Despite being suspended, spread-eagled in mid-air by the
multitude of thick, green, snakelike limbs, Jain still could not locate her
captor. The tendrils were all around her, below her, slithering out from, and
coiling into the clearing’s edge. In her years as a vixen warrior she’d slain
countless foes, and never once been defeated, the very notion had always been
absurd to her. This made her situation all the more terrifying.
Jain was utterly helpless,
and there was nothing she could do. All notions of honour and martial pride
suddenly appeared a world away and complexly irrelevant. She didn’t want to
die.
“Please”, Jain said
softly, “don’t kill me.” As if in response, several tentacles reared up in
front of her, and at last she had a good look at what she was up against. They
swayed hypnotically in front of her, each one flattened and tapered into to an
tip shaped like an arrowhead, leaf, or… A memory came flashing back. She was
in the woods, running from her brothers. They caught her, pinned her down,
pulled off her boots, then Jax pulled something from his pocket that made her
blood run cold. Jain’s mind snapped back into reality and she watched as
the tips of two of the unseen monster’s limbs move slowly and purposefully up
towards her exposed, vulnerable armpits. Her head darted from side to side,
watching the tentacle tips rise ever closer to her underarms.
“W-what are you doing?”
she whimpered, her voiced edged with fear. Then, with the tendrils just inches
from her flesh, she remembered exactly what they looked like. No!!! The
tips of the tentacles looked horrifyingly like the feathers her brothers used
to tickle her with as a child. At that moment, the tips made contact with her
armpits.
The sensation caused
the young vixen’s body to jolt involuntarily, and Jain let out a girlish yelp
of surprise. Then, to her unfathomable horror, the feather-like tips of the
beast’s tentacles began to slowly circle her armpits, round and around and
around. A million thoughts rushed through Jain’s mind, and her senses begun to
scream at her.
She clamped her jaw
shut, closed her eyes, and tried to ignore what was happening to her bare,
exposed underarms.
Tickle, Tickle,
Tickle…
Her lithe frame
shuddered and convulsed, her muscles rippled and tensed. Jain tried desperately
to control the effects the monster’s touch on her armpits was having, trying to
will the sensations away. She gritted her teeth, and cold beads of sweat slowly
began to form on her brow.
Tickle, Tickle,
Tickle…
She knew exactly what
the monster was trying to do, but she didn’t want to accept it: it was too
ridiculous, too absurd, and for her, too horrible to acknowledge. Yet she
couldn’t resist any longer, and Jain finally accepted that the creature was
doing something that had struck terror into her ever since she was a child. The
monster was tickling her.
No! This can’t be
happening! Please Gods, no! NOT THIS!!! Jain’s jaw quivered as the tendril-tips completed another
torturous circuit of her underarms.
Tickle, Tickle,
Tickle…
Tears congealed at the
corners of the vixen warrior’s eyes. It was unbearable. It was torture. It was
her one weakness, the one thing that made her heart turn to ice every time she
thought about it.
Tickle, Tickle,
Tickle…
It gave her nightmares.
It was why she let no one touch her. It was the reason why she shuddered every
single time she saw a feather. It didn’t matter that Jain was one of the finest
vixen warriors to ever come from the S’Nom; behind the beauty, skill,
intelligence, bitterness, and pathos, she was still the same unbearably
ticklish little girl that she had always been.
Tickle, Tickle,
Tickle…
And right now,
suspended in the air, ensnared in the multitude arms of an enemy she could not
see, fight, or escape, her worst fears, her darkest nightmares, were becoming
reality.
Jain had lost count of
how many seconds she’d managed to hold out. Every synapse was firing at
maximum, urging her to give in to the inevitable. Every stroke of the
feather-like tips of the tentacles under her arms was driving her ever closer
to the edge of madness. But she couldn’t laugh! She couldn’t! Doing so would
admit to the monster that she was ticklish; maybe if she didn’t laugh it would
give up and stop. But the monster didn’t give up. It did not stop.
Tickle, Tickle,
Tickle…
As if growing impatient
with its prey, and unseen by Jain herself, the monster raised two more
tentacles to the vixen’s vulnerable torso, the limbs swaying for a few seconds
as if contemplating their target. They stopped, and lowered themselves so that
their tips hovered a hair’s breadth away from Jain’s firm, flat, bare stomach.
Then in one, smooth, co-ordinated movement, the tentacles dragged their tips up
the full length of the young vixen’s vulnerable belly.
Jain’s eyes snapped
open, her body convulsed, and her mental defences collapsed. Her mouth sprang
open, and uncontrollable laugher burst out of it like shot from a cannon. She
laughed harder than she’d ever laughed before, every stroke of the creature’s
tentacle tips pushing her into hysteria.
“NO!!!”
Jain screamed between desperate fits of laughter, “STOP!!! PLEASE, I CAN’T
STAND IT!!! Still, the tips of the beast’s limbs continued to gently tickle her
belly and armpits; the young vixen squirmed helplessly, her stomach muscles
quivering under the remorseless stroke of the tentacles. The sheer intensity of
the monster’s tickling was excruciating. Jain desperately shut her eyes and
tried to will away the tormenting sensations dancing over her vulnerable flesh,
but it was impossible. All she could do was scream with laughter, and struggle
for air.
“PLEASE!!!” she shrieked, “LET ME GOHOHOHO!!!
*Gasp* “PLEASE STOP TICKLING!!!”
However,
the monster did not stop, it had only just started. Two more tentacles snaked
along the ground and reared up next to Jain’s tormented midriff, one on either
side of her. As with the two tendrils already tickling her belly, they lined
themselves up, and in one perfectly timed movement, ran their pointed tips up
the vixen warrior’s bare sides. Jain lost all remaining control, and screamed
in horror.
“STA-HA-HA-HAP!!!” she cried, tears now trickling
from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks. “OH GODS,
PLE-HEE-HEE-HEASE MAKE IT STA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!”
The
tendrils at her armpits stopped their circular motion, only to start stroking
up and down the full length of her underarms, teasing her partially exposed
ribs. Those stroking her vulnerable sides and belly remorselessly continued
their tickling, unrelentingly, indefatigably, without pity. No matter how much
the young vixen laughed, screamed, and begged for mercy, the cruel beast would
not stop tickling. Tears of laughter were now streaming freely from Jain’s
eyes, and her tormented mind, assailed by the unbearable sensations, began to
sink into ticklish oblivion.
“PLEASE!!!
Jain wailed, “NO MORE!!! I CA-HA-HA-HA-HAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!” Two
more tentacles raised themselves up from the ground in front of her, and to the
vixen warrior’s horror, their feather-like tips began to stroke up and down her
thighs. “NO-HO-HO-HO-HO!!!” This
was too much to bear. Between her uncontrollable fits of laughter, pleading,
and desperate attempts to breathe, she tried to compose herself, and cried out
in a voice filled with torment and despair. “PLE-HEE-HEE-HEASE!!! I BEG OF
YOU!!! STOP TORTURING ME-HEE-HEE!!!!” Jain
was close to breaking point, her lungs ached, and her throat was dry from
laughing so hard. She couldn’t endure anymore.
After what
seemed like an eternity, the tickling stopped. Jain slowly opened her eyes,
panting rapidly, taking in all the air she could, and looked down. The
monster’s limbs had indeed stopped tickling her, but the vixen’s exposed flesh
that had experienced their touch still tingled; her tortured nerve endings
pushed to the limit of their endurance.
She still suspended in the air, ensnared by the monster, and with her
mind free of the ravages of the creature’s tickling, Jain realized that she was
incredibly thirsty. Her senses restored, she listened to the sound of the
stream, and gazed longingly at its cool, fresh water.
“Please”
she said, “I thirst… Please let me drink.” Inwardly Jain didn’t expert her
malicious captor to grant her desperate wish. It had tickled her to the edge of
sanity, teasing her, tormenting her, torturing her. And now, it would cruelly
hang her within feet of quenching her thirst. Then, to her surprise, the limbs
holding her gently lowered themselves and Jain with them. For the first time in
what felt like hours, her feet felt the ground, and the tentacles loosened,
allowing the young vixen to stagger to and collapse at the stream’s edge. Jain
cupped her hands and drank quickly, gulping down mouthfuls of the cool,
refreshing liquid, the sensation of the water running down her parched throat
mercifully satisfying.
After she
had drunk her fill, Jain, looked around fearfully at the clearing’s edge,
behind which, somewhere, her tormentor lay. Then, something in the stream
caught her eye, a glint of silver. Curiously, Jain reached down, and pulled out
a steel gauntlet, half-submerged by the silt and pebbles at the stream’s
bottom. Impulsively, she searched around in the nearby undergrowth, and to her
horror, found a leg guard, a gorget, and two breastplates, all heavily rusted
and caked in soil. The armour of the two missing Wolf Knights. The young
warrior vixen tried to suppress a sob as she felt the tendrils coiled around
her waist, wrists and ankles slowly tighten. No… Please gods, no…
In that
instant; Jain Swiftblade realized her fate, the same fate shared by the
armour’s previous occupants. As she was lifted once more into the air, she
watched, mortified, as the beast’s tentacles rose up again to her prone body.
She wanted to cry out, scream, anything, but the unfathomable horror of her
situation allowed only a whimper. Like the unfortunate wolves before her,
ensnared in the clutches of the monster, she couldn’t avoid the inevitable. The
tentacle-tips started to stroke at her lithe, unbearably ticklish body once more.
Jain Swiftblade was slowly, deliberately, being tickled to death.
As the
hours passed, the sun began to sink in the sky, turning the heavens from
yellow, to orange, then finally the pastel-shaded purple of dusk. It was really
quite beautiful, but Jain Swiftblade had other things on her mind, such as the
unrelenting tickle-torture she was receiving in the bonds of the monster she
had set out to slay. Still, the tendril tips stroked and teased her exposed
flesh, tickling her in alternating movements; criss-crossing, zig-zagging,
spiraling, driving her to tormented fits of hysterical laughter. The young
warrior vixen had lost track of all time, and only the slow cooling of the air
she tried desperately to breathe told her that nightfall was fast approaching. Maybe
the monster would stop soon. Surely it had to rest like every other creature?
It was this forlorn hope that prevented poor Jain from going mad in the
clutches of her merciless captor.
“PlheheheHEHEHEHEHEASE!!!
STOOOP!!!” she gasped. Jain had never before begged or pleaded the way she
had whilst in the clutches of this “tickle-beast”, but innumerable cries for
mercy had not stopped her torment. The monster, apparently, didn’t want to
listen.
Then, after what seemed
like forever, the beast’s tentacles stopped their movement, and slowly drew
themselves away from Jain’s body. She slowly opened her tear-moistened eyes,
and watched as they sunk to the ground, and lay there, lifeless. It was then,
that she looked up at the sky and saw the first star of nighttime twinkle back
at her. As if by divine intervention, the limbs that held Jain in the air,
gently lowered her to the ground.
The monster laid her
there on her side, relaxing its tendrils, but still keeping the grip on the
vixen’s wrists, ankles and waist. Jain immediately huddled into a foetal
position, clutching at her tingling midriff, praying that the torture was over.
She was exhausted from laughing, her energy was spent, and all she wanted to do
was sleep. A chill breeze blew over the young vixen’s body, causing her to
shiver uncontrollably, her scant warrior apparel offering little protection
from the elements and the bitter cold of night. To her private despair, she
realized the tickling had been replaced by the prospect of freezing in the chill
night air.
Suddenly, the tentacles
began to move again. No… No more… Jain moaned within the confines of her
mind. But the tendrils didn’t tickle her, they began to slowly, purposefully
wrap around her; first her bare legs, then her rump, hips, and midriff…
Anxiously, the young warrior drew her arms into her chest, holding her clenched
fists up by her head where she might still be able to use them. The tentacles
continued to coil around her, cocooning her. They were around her upper
torso, now, covering her arms and chest. Jain started to panic, fearing that
the beast was attempting to constrict her, but her breathing remained
unhindered. Then the coiling stopped, leaving only her hands, neck and head
exposed, the warm snakelike limbs hugging her body. Warm, she thought. They
were warm…It struck Jain as completely absurd after the way the creature
had treated her, but it was evidently trying her keep her warm, protected from
the cold of night.
She began to relax,
letting the warmth of the creature’s limbs penetrate her body. Then, more
movement from the tentacles. Three rose up in front of her face, swaying
slowly, gently, hypnotically. Jain tried to tear her gaze away, but she
was captivated, watching their strange dance, floating in the air. The vixen
warrior’s eyelids began to droop, and she realized how tired, how exhausted
she was. Two more tentacles rose behind her, and gently started to stroke her
ears, melting away any tension remaining in the young vixen’s muscles. Sleep.
All she wanted to do was sleep. Jain tried to fight it, but the swaying
tentacles, and the tendrils stroking her ears, beckoned her to give in. After a
few seconds, she let her eyes close, but still the monster continued to caress
her ears, lulling the vixen into a deep, impenetrable sleep. Memories came
flooding back. She was a child again, home, in her bed, snuggled deep beneath
her warm, woolen blanket. Careless, without worry, the perfect existence. Finally, on a subconscious whim,
Jain Swiftblade put her thumb in her mouth, smiled, and began to purr.
From
within its lair beyond the trees, the creature watched Jain sleep. It had never
tickled a she-creature before, and had found the experience most enjoyable.
What’s more, its new plaything’s lack of armour or indeed clothing for that
matter, made the tickling much easier than usual. The beast of Katara Forest
had long been the target of many a warrior’s quest, and its would-be slayers
had always ended up the same way, the young vixen currently wrapped in its
limbs being no different. It struck the monster as absurd that it should be the
object of so much animosity; it had never really hurt anyone. Well, not always.
After it punished the creatures it captured, the monster always let them go.
Anyone foolish enough to return, or try and harm it after they recovered their
weaponry, was shown no mercy. Two of the three wolves that had recent
aspirations to end its life had been foolish, and it it’d had no choice but to
tickle them until they expired. Anyway, it reasoned, it had a right to life as
much as anyone. Who were they to decide its fate? Yes, it would let the
she-creature sleep, but it would have its way with her again in the morning.
Jain found her self
being gently shaken awake, but she really didn’t want to be disturbed.
“No mother…” she
murmured, “I don’t wanna learn sword-craft today…” After another more vigorous
shake, she opened her eyes, and remembered where she was. A single, mocking
tentacle waved itself in front of her face, as if to say “Good morning” in its
own special way. Unaware as to why she was sucking her thumb, she took it out
of her mouth with an embarrassed glance back at the lone tendril, and squirmed
within her cocoon, testing its hold around her.
As if in response, the
monster’s limbs unravelled, and the tendrils still wrapped around her ankles,
wrists and waist yet again hoisted the young vixen’s body into the air, but
this time, only a few feet off the ground. Jain wondered if her cruel captor
had finally finished tormenting her. Then, ominously, the creature laid her on
the ground in the middle of the clearing, lowering her arms, and restraining
them behind her back. She couldn’t stand the thought of being tickled any more,
hadn’t she been tormented enough? Jain was left alone in the clearing. She could
neither see nor hear any movement from the mass of dormant tentacles around
her. After a moment’s contemplation, the desperate young vixen decided to make
the most of this apparent interlude.
“H-hello?” she called
nervously, “Er, I-I’m sorry about the whole, um… I’ve learnt my lesson! I
promise never to try and slay you again! I promise!” Jain looked around
expectantly at the shadowy tree line, but no answer was forthcoming. Suddenly,
her gaze was drawn to movement from the tendrils wrapped around her ankles:
they were slowly, gradually pulling away from her feet, pulling her leather
boots off with them.
Within seconds, the
vixen warrior’s feet were bared, and her boots discarded nonchalantly to one
side. With a numbing, gut-wrenching feeling, Jain knew exactly what the
monster intended to do with her, as the beast’s snakelike limbs one more
wrapped themselves around her ankles. She tried to struggle, but it was
hopeless. All Jain could do was tentatively flex her soles, and wiggle her
toes. Her worst fears were confirmed when two of the monster’s tentacles
started to slither across the ground towards her, before raising their
feather-like tips in front of the young warrior vixen’s bare, vulnerable feet.
“Please…” Jain sobbed,
“P-Please, not that, anything but that… Not my feet… Anything
but my feet!” She struggled vainly against her bonds as the tendril tips
started to come nearer, memories of long forgotten sensations slowly beginning
to surface. Her brothers, the woods, her feet being bared, the gentle touch
of feather-tips on her bare, tender soles.
“Please! I’m sorry!”
Jain cried as the tentacles drew closer, “I don’t deserve this!!!” Then,
it struck her. She did deserve it. What was she to expect? She had come
into the forest, looking to slay this monster, end its life, for money. Now, it
had captured her. She realized in a moment of existential horror, that the
creature’s revenge, every single tickle, was well and truly justified. At that
moment, the tentacle tips reached the naked, vulnerable, unbearably sensitive
soles of her feet, and began tickling.
“NO-HO-HO-HO-HO!!! PLEEEAASEE!!! STHAHAHAHAP!!! NOT MY
FEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEET!!!”
As the tips of the
creature’s tendrils gently stroked up and down her pink, tender soles, Jain
Swiftblade was pushed once more to the onto the brink of insanity. The
suffering she had endured before was nothing compared to this. Her feet
had always been her weakness, and now, the helpless young vixen’s tormented
mind was being wracked with sensations she hoped, prayed she’d never
feel again. She screamed, wailed, and cried with tortured laughter, and begged
for mercy between desperate attempts to breathe: but still, the tickling
continued.
Pushing its captive
further into ticklish hysteria, the monster started to alternate the movements
of its tendrils, circling the balls of her feet, zigzagging down her arches,
and running the tentacles-points across the tips of her wriggling toes. Jain at
first to scrunch-up her soles, in the hope that the effect of the tickling
would weaken, but the creature was already prepared for such a contingency. A
clutch of tiny, root-like tendrils had sprung up to her feet in response, and
had wrapped around her individual toe claws, before firmly pulling them back.
As a result, the excruciatingly ticklish soles of the vixen warrior’s feet were
pulled taut over her flesh. Nothing would stop the monster in exacting its
punishment to the fullest.
“MAKE IT STA-HA-HA-HA-HAP!!! PLE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEASE!!!
I’M SORREEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!”
Jain soon
began to feel dizzy and light-headed. Tears were running freely from the
corners of her tightly closed eyes. Her throat was sore, and her lungs felt
like they would burst at any moment. Was this it? Was this how her life would
end, tickled to death in the grip of a merciless, unknown enemy? The young
vixen’s poor, tormented mind would have sunk into the abyss if not for a new
sensation assailing her consciousness. The creature had started to stroke
the feather-like tips of its tentacles right underneath her toes. Jain Swiftblade roared
with laughter.
Yet the tendrils
continued their course, dragging their tips back and forth underneath Jain
toes, stopping occasionally to slide their tapered, arrowhead tips between
them.
The young warrior vixen
prayed for death, for her unbearable torment to end, for Fortunata herself to
take her to the afterlife, anything but this. But death did not come, there was
only tickling: endless, merciless, tickling. All Jain Swiftblade, the proudest,
most skilled warrior the S’Nom had offer, could do was laugh.
The hours passed, and
the tickling finally stopped. The monster’s limbs began to not only loosen
their grip on Jain, but uncoiled completely from around her body, leaving nothing
but a sobbing, quivering wreck on the ground. She immediately reached down and
grasped her bare, tortured feet, massaging them, trying to rub away the
lingering sensations that still danced over her soles. The vixen looked around,
and saw that the tentacles which had carpeted the floor of the clearing were
starting to snake away from her, towards the trees and the forest beyond.
Within seconds, no other living thing stirred around her, she was alone once
more.
Tentatively, Jain stood
up, almost loosing her balance in the process. The tentacles were indeed gone.
She looked around and located her sword and shield, dropped soon after the
creature had started to tickle her armpits. The vixen warrior strode over,
reached down, and grabbed her weapons, clutching them to her body. Nothing
happened. Then it slowly begun to dawn on her. The monster had spared her. Jain
couldn’t help but let out a giddy, almost hysterical laugh of triumph. Yet she
was still within the monster’s domain, and she didn’t want to push her luck.
The warrior vixen didn’t know whether the monster that had tormented her had
feelings, but she thought she’d better say something to make sure.
“I-I just wanted to say
I’m s-sorry… It was wrong of me to come here…” she called out to the forest,
her voice quavering. “N-No hard feelings?”
No answer. “Okay, I’ll be going then, if you have n-no objection?”
Nothing.
Jain walked, slowly,
calmly to the tree line. Still nothing. She was past the edge of the clearing
now… three feet, five feet, ten feet, then, she ran. Jain ran as fast as her
legs could carry her, tree branches whipping at her face and body. Within
minutes she burst out of the forest, and collapsed on the ground, panting
desperately. The young vixen laid there, a wave of elation and relief sweeping
over her body. Jain looked up at the sky, watching the clouds drift serenely
by, and thanked Fortunata that she was still alive. Tears happiness began to
well in her eyes, but she wiped them away immediately. Warriors didn’t cry.
After a few minutes,
Jain stood up and began to walk, skirting the tree line, in search for her
erstwhile mount, Vassago; finally finding the horse where she’d left him.
Vassago turned his head as he heard her approach, whinnying affectionately.
Jain responded by embracing her mount’s neck, if only to remind herself that
she was free, and alive. She rubbed Vassago' flank reassuringly, and in one
practised movement, mounted the horse, reared him around, and rode off back to
Tylis.
Prince Cassius stared
at her incredulously.
“What do you mean you
couldn’t find the monster??”
“It is just as I said,
highness”, Jain replied evenly, “I travelled to Katara forest, and found
nothing.”
The vixen warrior
looked the young wolf prince straight in the eye as she spoke. She wasn’t about
to divulge the details of her journey to the royal upstart, after all, she had
her reputation to think of.
“I must say, mistress
Swiftblade”, said Cassius, regaining his composure, “I’m most disappointed in
you, I expected more of a warrior vixen of the S’Nom”, he smiled
condescendingly. A plan began to form in Jain’s mind. She smiled sweetly.
“Again, apologize my
prince. I failed in my task because of my own weaknesses, but I am sure that if
your highness embarked yourself to slay the dread beast, you would be
successful in your quest”, the young warrior vixen said in honeyed tones.
“That I am sure of”, he
grinned. “ Yet I’m afraid as a result of your failure, I will be unable to pay
you the reward offered.”
“It is of no
consequence Prince Cassius, I have learnt from my experience, and in turn, wish
you the very best on your mission…” Jain said, a malicious grin spreading over
her face.
Sarah skipped happily
through the forest, humming a tune to herself, and absent-mindedly plucking the
petals from a flower she had just picked. Then, unusual sounds began to assail
the young ferret’s ears. She walked tentatively towards the source of the
noise, and soon entered a clearing. Sarah watched bemused as a contingent of
armoured wolves ran past her, their yells palpably edged with fear. On entering
the clearing, she heard laughter, and immediately saw the source; a young wolf
clad in full plate armour, who appeared to be tangled within a bed of think,
green vines. Just then the wolf looked up and saw her.
“Please! Little girl!”
he gasped “HehehehehehHELP ME-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!! Sarah looked at the
wolf more closely, and noticed that the wolf’s feet were bare, and were being
stroked by the tips of a pair of the vines, which seemed to be wrapping
themselves around his body, as if they had a mind of their own. The young
ferret grinned mischievously as realization dawned on her.
“You’re being tickled,
aren’t you?”
“Sorry mister” Sarah
said sweetly, “Mother said I have to be back before lunch, or else I don’t get
any dessert. Bye bye!” With that, she skipped happily back into the forest.
“NOOOOOO!!!” Prince Cassius wailed, as the monster’s
tentacle tips continued to stroke up and down the bare soles of his feet. More
tendrils closed in around him, slipping inside his breastplate, undoing its
clasps, baring his torso for what the tickle-beast saw, as just another lesson
to be taught.
THE END