Kunzite1
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It's time to see what our girls are up to this chapter! To help anyone who might need catching up with the story in progress, here's a handy guide:
The Characters:
Camilla – Strong and athletic, Camilla’s greatest aspiration is to rush the Sorority of City Guards. A believer in law and order above all, Camilla tends to be the responsible one in a group. She has been drafted by the Dark Lady, leader of the Sorority of Thieves, to find a dangerous magical idol. Camilla is ticklish all over her body, a weakness which cost her admission to the Sorority of City Guards the last time she rushed them.
Maggie – One-quarter giantess, Maggie is twelve feet tall with an enormous pair of feet to match her stature. Maggie belongs to the Sorority of Explorers, but despite her rustic job and physical strength she tends to be quite girly, taking regular pedicures as part of her life as a city girl. Maggie’s worst tickle spots are her giant-sized feet, which are hyper-ticklish to the touch. But there is a good side to her sensitive tootsies: an expert foot massage can take her to the heights of utter ecstasy.
Mindy – Geek girl and avid tabletop gamer, Mindy belongs to the Sorority of Sages where she studies the phenomenon of magic between roleplaying sessions. Mindy has no end of tickle spots, but is most ticklish on her upper body, especially her underarms and her enormous breasts. However, as ticklish as Mindy is, tickling has an intensely erotic effect on her. Being tickled, especially on her breasts, has brought Mindy to some of the most overwhelming orgasms she has ever experienced.
The Story So Far:
After a series of seeming coincidences brought all three girls together for the first time, they were suddenly trapped in a magical vision generated by a golden idol recently found by the Sorority of Explorers. The idol showed them visions from long ago through the eyes of mysterious individuals. They do know that the idol has plans for them, but they do not know why or how. However, they intend to find out.
After a visit to their ticklish informant Blackmarket Becka, the girls were told that their answers lie in Sableridge Manor, a mansion at the edge of Port Bastion. A mysterious group of women dressed in black cloaks with grinning silver masks had been spotted there, and the girls know that this mysterious organization is somehow tied to the idol. None of them know what they will find inside Sableridge Manor, but it’s the only chance they have to learn the truth.
And now, ladies and gentlemen:
City of Sororities - Chapter 4
Port Bastion did not have what could be a called a “wealthy neighborhood” in the strictest sense. That would imply a degree of city planning which simply did not exist. Granted, there were areas you could go where you were probabilistically less likely to encounter helpful individuals who sold you “insurance against being hit over the head with a bottle, like this one here, for instance”. But as with all games of chance, if you played long enough the house would eventually win.
Consequently, estates like Sableridge Manor were surrounded by very high walls topped with razor wire. The high wall was primarily to keep the people inside from being reminded of what sort of neighborhood they lived in, and the razor wire took care of the job of keeping neighbors out. But Lady Sableridge was apparently one of those people who could afford additional peace of mind. The gate to the Manor was not only locked, but a guard stood sentry in front of it. And being the sort of person who purchased only the best, Lady Sableridge had hired a lamia guard.
The lamias were a race from the barbarian lands (expectedly, no one was too clear on where) who had found particular success in Port Bastion doing any sort of job that included intimidation. It was easy to see why. From the waist down, lamias had the body of a serpent, which allowed them to slither quickly across the ground and even pick up objects with their dexterous tails. From the waist up, a lamia looked mostly like a human woman, except for one detail. They had six arms. When combined with superhuman upper-body strength and a general upright height of about seven feet, it was easy to see why most people decided to walk on the other side of the street when they saw a lamia approaching.
The lamia guard eyed the three girls distrustfully as they approached the gate to Sableridge Manor. “Move along,” she said tersely, carefully watching all of them.
“Actually, can you help us with something?” asked Mindy. It was not perhaps the stealthiest way to begin their infiltration, but she couldn’t think of anything better.
“No.” The lamia folded her topmost set of arms while the remaining four looked ready to do something unfortunate to anyone who might cross her.
Camilla felt like this was not going well. “Look, would it help if—“
“I strongly suggest that all of you keep moving before someone gets hurt,” said the guard with a glare. She spoke angrily but slowly, with the tone of someone trying to control their accent. And although she managed to say her “s”s without hissing, they could see her long forked tongue flicking in serpentine patterns as she spoke.
“Hey, you can’t talk to us like that!” challenged Mindy, stepping forwards.
Whether Mindy was going to take some sort of aggressive action, they never had time to find out. The lamia’s reflexes were lightning-fast, and as soon as she saw Mindy moving towards her, all six arms darted out to grab her. Unfortunately for her, there was another person in the group who had fast reflexes and strength even greater than a lamia’s. Before the guard could lay a hand on Mindy, Maggie grabbed her by the wrists and had her dangling in the air, with the very tip of her serpent’s tail barely scraping the ground.
“What were you thinking?” demanded Camilla, turning to Mindy.
“I was thinking we had a twelve-foot woman on our side,” said Mindy with a smirk.
“Taking me for granted, hmm?” asked Maggie, still dangling the guard. “I should have let her have you.”
“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t do that,” said Mindy.
“Let me down from here!” spat the guard, her tail whipping about as she thrashed.
“Not just yet,” said Maggie. With her free hand, she plucked some of the thin iron bars from the gate and bent them until she had fashioned six makeshift handcuffs, which she used to string the lamia up to the gate by all six of her arms. The guard hung from her bondage, thrashing furiously and trying to free her arms, but even her strength was not enough to free her.
“We’d be happy to let you down,” said Camilla. “As soon as you tell us everything you know about any visitors to this Manor wearing black cloaks and silver masks.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” insisted the guard. “I guard the gate! That’s all I know!”
But as the words came out of her mouth, something began to happen. Camilla, Mindy, and Maggie felt the world begin to turn. There was a sensation of falling: not in a direction, but away from all directions. Suddenly, the world was bathed in a pale blue aura, and they recognized it: it was the power of the idol that they had experienced in the tavern. They felt its presence, but it was nowhere to be seen, and before they could look for it, there was a bright flash of light…
There was a moment of vertigo, and suddenly they saw…themselves. They were looking out through the guard’s eyes, at these three intruders who were trying to force their way into the Manor. But they only saw this for a moment, because the present faded around them and suddenly they felt themselves looking at a memory of the past…
It was the interior of Sableridge Manor. Tonight was an important night, and the lamia had been called inside to act as a bodyguard. No one was to be allowed access to the study that night, whatever the reason. And just before the door was shut completely, the guard happened to look inside. There was Lady Sableridge at her desk, the surface of which was covered in gold coins. There was a small fortune laid out before her, and in curiosity the guard looked up to see who had placed it there. Standing beside the Lady was a tall figure, wearing a black hooded cloak and wearing a grinning silver mask…
And just as quickly, the vision ended. As the three of them recovered from the vertigo, Maggie grumbled, “Not again…”
“You lied to us!” said Camilla angrily. “You’ve seen them before! And Lady Sableridge is in league with them, too!”
“It’s none of your bussss-inessss!” hissed the guard. Now that she was angry, her lamia accent was beginning to reassert itself.
“You’d better let us in, or it’s going to go very badly for you,” warned Camilla.
The lamia grinned mirthlessly at them. “And what do you thhhink you can do?”
“Oh, I know a thing or two about lamias,” volunteered Mindy, stepping forward. “Not many weaknesses, but there is one in particular you don’t like to talk about, isn’t there?” And by way of explanation, Mindy planted her fingers just underneath the lamia’s lowest pair of arms.
“Tssssss-ssssss-ssssss! Don’t…do that!” giggled the lamia in her hissing voice, a broad grin on her face. She began to squirm, and her serpent’s tail began twitching back and forth.
“Yes, if I had six ticklish underarms, I wouldn’t advertise it either,” said Mindy with a smile. “Just two have enough of an effect, and it only gets worse from there.”
“Hssssss! Not—hehehehehehe—letting you in!” giggled the lamia as Mindy’s fingers gently pressed into her lower underarms.
“Perhaps this will change your mind,” offered Camilla, stepping forwards. Emboldened by their new discovery, Camilla reached forwards and began tickling the next pair of soft, exposed underarms.
“TSSSSSSSSS—HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” With Mindy’s soft, teasing touch combined with Camilla’s kneading fingers, the assault on four underarms was more than the lamia could resist. Her hissing giggles gave way to full-bodied laughter: the universal language of ticklish women from races all over the Continent.
“Too bad you don’t have scales here, isn’t it?” asked Camilla with a smile. She was enjoying herself, and that translated to more creative tickling. She sought out the softest spots she could find, and there were certainly a lot of them. Most human women would have to spend a fortune to get skin this soft. Perhaps it was nature’s way of compensating for a tickle-proof lower body.
“AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! STAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!” cried the lamia. Tears started to form in her green eyes, and her tail swished back and forth madly, but she was helpless to protect herself.
“Stop?” asked Maggie, stepping forward. “We can’t do that. Why, I haven’t even had my turn!” And with a grin, Maggie reached out with her pinky fingers to tickle the lamia’s only remaining pair of underarms.
As ticklish as human women got, there was one thing they never had to experience: the sensation of having six ticklish underarms fall under simultaneous attack. And facing the fingernails of girls set on getting their way, the triple devastation was unbearable. The fearsome serpentine guard was in hysterics, with a look of utter ticklish surrender on her face as she experienced every lamia’s worst fear.
“OHHHOHOHOHOHO GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHADDD!!!” she screamed, all six of her arms tugging wildly at their bondage in the vain hope that one of them might be able to protect the ticklish hollow underneath. But none of them lowered an inch, and the torture from three fronts continued.
“Now, don’t you think you might be able to help us out?” asked Camilla, drilling her fingers into the exact centers of her set of underarms, where the skin was the absolute softest.
“ANYTHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHANG!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! ANYTHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHANNNNNGG!!!” she howled. Her job as a guard meant nothing to her at this point: her only concern was saving herself from the ticklish hell.
“So how exactly can you help us, sweetie?” asked Mindy, her slender fingers stroking the curves of her set of underarms.
“KEY!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! BAHAHACK DOOOHOOHOOHOHOOOR!!! EEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!” The girls looked down, and there were indeed two prominent brass keys hanging from her belt. One of them presumably opened the gate, while the other was the one she was talking about. All of them knew, of course, that the lamia was far too ticklish to be lying.
“It’s amazing how helpful she can be when she wants to,” giggled Maggie. Her fingers, although large, were still relatively slender for a woman her size, and her pinky fingers were just the right size to tickle the lamia’s uppermost pair of underarms.
“LET ME GOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!!! WOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!” howled the guard hysterically.
“Well girls, should we?” asked Mindy with a grin.
“Why, what’s the hurry?” Camilla smirked back. “I think we can spare a few more minutes for our friend here. Perhaps this will teach her to be a little more polite in the future.”
It was an hour later that the three girls left an exhausted and unconscious guard at the gate and headed in towards the Manor. The next day, an advertisement appeared in the Port Bastion newspaper for a new guard needed at Sableridge Manor, the old one having left for “unspecified reasons”. The management declined to elaborate.
* * * * *
The room the three girls found themselves in after using the key was clearly some kind of servants’ chamber for the scullery maids of the house. The walls were lined with neatly pressed maid’s uniforms: short black dresses with petticoats and lacy white aprons. They ran the gamut from all sizes small to large, and each one had a small pink feather-duster hanging next to it: the primary tool of the trade. Over on the far wall was an open cabinet which displayed rows upon rows of identical black high-heeled shoes to match the uniforms, neatly arranged in order of shoe size.
“Ooh, just look at these!” exclaimed Mindy, picking out a uniform in her size. “I have a cosplay outfit just like this at home!”
“A what?” asked Maggie.
“These may be our ticket in here, actually,” said Camilla. “I can’t think of an easier way to give us free reign of the house.”
“Won’t they recognize that we’re not part of the staff?” asked Maggie.
“Not necessarily,” said Camilla. “A house this size could have dozens of scullery maids. And besides, the gentry of the house would never look a servant in the eye. I doubt they know what their own servants look like.”
“It’s a moot point,” said Maggie. “I doubt they have a uniform in my size.” It seemed to Camilla that there was the faintest tinge of regret in her voice as Maggie looked over the feminine uniforms.
“Actually, it looks like they do,” said Mindy from the corner. As Camilla and Maggie looked over at her they saw a maid’s uniform tailored for, amazingly, a woman of Maggie’s size. It hung right next to a six-inch tall uniform and another which looked like it had been tailored for a centaur of sorts. Apparently Sableridge Manor went through a variety of domestic servants.
The girls slipped into their uniforms quickly, and went about the business of picking shoes in their size. But although the Manor had been considerate enough to stock a uniform on Maggie’s size, it appeared that they had not extended the courtesy to stocking shoes for a woman with thirty-two inch feet.
“I’ll…just have to keep my sandals on,” said Maggie, a bit disappointed.
Camilla shook her head. “That would be too noticeable. I’d say our best bet is for you to go barefoot. At least then you could say you lost your shoes.”
“I’m not going barefoot!” insisted Maggie.
“Why?” asked Camilla with a knowing smile. “What are you afraid of?”
Mindy giggled. “I think she’s afraid of something like this!” And she made a dive towards Maggie’s bare feet with her feather duster, feathering the bottoms of her enormous soles before Maggie could stop her.
“EEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!! NOT THE FEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEETTT!!!” Maggie squealed, rolling on the ground to escape the surprise tickling attack.
“Tickle-tickle-tickle!” teased Mindy as she twirled her feather duster over Maggie’s squirming feet. “So this is what you were afraid of, huh? Someone getting a hold of these big, ticklish tootsies? And there’s sooo much of them to tickle, too!”
“STAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPPP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Maggie kicked wildly as she rolled around, not managing to escape the feathering of her soles, but only succeeding in flipping up her short, frilly skirt as she squirmed. Camilla caught a glimpse of soft but muscular thighs underneath, and a flash of lacy pink panties as her long legs kicked in the air. Camilla had to admit that she found herself suddenly distracted.
“It’s your fault for having such dirty feet!” chided Mindy. “Now I’ve got to dust them clean! I’ll just feather these lovely big feet until I think they’re done!” Mindy grinned as she straddled Maggie’s leg, wrapping her own legs around it so she could stay safe from the kicking feet.
But in her lust to tickle Maggie’s huge vulnerable feet, Mindy had let her own defenses down. Even though Maggie was crying tears of laughter, she still had the self possession to grab her own feather duster and retaliate. Holding the small instrument like a pencil, Maggie rolled over until she had a clear shot at Mindy, and thrust her feather duster up the skirt of Mindy’s maid uniform.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! TICKLES!!!” shrieked Mindy as the feather duster made contact with her own soft, sensitive thighs. Her knees immediately buckled beneath her and she fell down on the floor beside Maggie. “NOT THEEHEHEHEHEHERRRE!!!”
“TAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE THAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!!!” laughed Maggie. Mindy’s feather duster still tickled her own feet with a vengeance, but she managed to extract some payback as she feathered Mindy’s ticklish inner thighs. From the looks of it, Maggie had discovered a wildly feather-ticklish spot.
“I’LL GET YOHOOHOOHOOHOO FOR THAAAHAHAHAHAHATTT!!!” howled Mindy, tears already streaming down her cheeks as she re-doubled her own tickling efforts. No longer content to only use her feather duster, Mindy brought in her other hand to rake her fingernails across Maggie’s giant soles.
“NOOOOOOOOOOHOOHOOHOOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!!!” bellowed Maggie in the face of her ultimate weakness. The pairing of fingers and feathers on her enormous, ticklish feet was a combination she was powerless to resist. Her soles flexed and writhed as her long, shapely four-inch toes danced frantically beneath Mindy’s ticklish manipulations. She had no ability to think of her surroundings, or the danger of their mission: all she could think about was how ticklish her feet were.
But still, some innate instinct in Maggie drove her fingers to continue working her feather duster across Mindy’s ticklish thighs. And no matter how furiously Mindy tickled, she could not stop her giant opponent from exploiting her own ticklishness. The short maid’s dress provided no protection at all, and this was definitely a spot on which Mindy needed protection. Her own petite frame could not match the volume of laughter produced by Maggie’s giant-sized lungs, but she came surprisingly close. But more embarrassingly, Mindy could feel the effects of her rising libido at being feathered on her tender thighs. Her nipples began to grow visible through the thin fabric of her dress, and her panties, already on display in the midst of her tickle fight, began to grow moist.
“Quiet! They’ll hear you!” hushed Camilla in an exasperated whisper. She stopped halfway through putting on hr shoes and looked at the two girls in the middle of a full-fledged tickle fight. She had already felt some trepidation about this plan, and two ticklish girls laughing at the tops of their lungs were not doing anything to make her feel more secure.
But neither girl was ready to back down. Mindy had dropped her feather duster and was using all ten fingernails to tickle Maggie’s enormous right foot, producing peals of giantess laughter that threatened to bring the roof down. But Maggie was dealing it out as well as she was taking it, and her feather duster up Mindy’s skirt was having a devastating effect.
“You’ll give us away!” insisted Camilla, but again neither of the girls paid attention to her. All right, she told herself: I’ve tried being reasonable, now it’s time to play it their way. She would get their attention one way or the other. And while the two girls were occupied with each other, Camilla ran up behind Mindy and launched a tickling assault on her exposed underarms.
“EEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!! NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOO FAAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR!!!” shrieked Mindy as she felt Camilla’s fingers dig into her sensitive underarms. With the odds now against her, Mindy’s body was simply too ticklish to stand against a twofold attack. She collapsed into a laughing wreck, unable to fight back.
“Are you ready to listen now?” asked Camilla with a grin. She couldn’t deny that she was enjoying this immensely.
“YEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHESSS!!! MERCEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!” screamed Mindy as she writhed in ticklish agony. She fell off her perch on Maggie’s leg, laughing hysterically.
Camilla looked down at her triumphantly, wondering if maybe a little extra disciplinary tickling was in order. But as she was lost in these pleasant thoughts, she failed to account for Maggie. Still light-headed and blurry-eyed from her tickling ordeal, Maggie was still set on fighting back, and with Mindy out of the way, Maggie’s roving feather duster made contact with the closest target it could find. It brushed across Camilla’s bare foot.
“EEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!! NOT THE FEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!” squealed Camilla as she felt the feather duster on her exposed ticklish sole. Mindy’s killer instinct honed in on this moment of weakness, and she immediately leapt at Camilla’s other foot, plucking off the shoe and subjecting it to a full-on tickling.
“Koochie-koochie-koo!” cried Mindy in delight as she tickled Camilla’s bare foot. “This will teach you to use a cheap shot on me!”
“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! PLEASE NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!” cried Camilla through her laughter. This was not the way she had envisioned things going. But she wouldn’t be stopped now. Her flailing hands gripped one of the discarded feather dusters on the ground, and she immediately took her new weapon and turned it on the spot she knew would even the odds: Mindy’s creamy, exposed thighs.
“AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT AGAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAINNN!!!” screamed Mindy as she felt the soft feather duster twirling underneath her dress. Frantically she grasped around for a weapon of her own to use. However, no other feather dusters were at hand. The first thing her roving fingers came into contact with instead was the soft, ticklish expanse of Maggie’s left foot.
“EEEEEEEAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!” Maggie went insane as Mindy’s grasping fingers sank into the soft, pillowy surface of her tender sole. Screaming the kind of laughter only a ticklish giantess could make, Maggie rolled across the ground in a spasm of hysterics. She struck the far wall, and with the force of her own weight plus the two girls on top of her, this was enough to upset the shoe-cabinet that held the maids’ shoes. There was a thunderous crash, and all three girls were thrown apart as the air filled with a rain of black stiletto-heeled shoes.
“This is the worst break-in ever,” muttered Camilla from beneath her pile of footwear.
* * * * *
The dark halls of Sableridge Manor after dark were lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the tall ironwork windows, casting long, looming shadows throughout the high-ceilinged hallways. This made it fairly easy to replicate the hushed anxiety that three serving maids would have been expected to display. The few servants they passed were in just as much of a hurry as they were, and passed by without stopping. Their success, however, did little to make them feel better.
One thing that was in abundance, however, was portraits of Lady Sableridge. At the head of the stairs they passed by the likeness of the Lady of the house: a tall, austere woman holding a Persian Longhair cat who even managed to look down at Maggie. It was one of those paintings whose eyes follow you wherever you go, which might not have been so bad if the cat hadn’t done the same thing. Beneath the portrait was a brass plaque: “Her Ladyship and The Duchess”, the second title presumably referring to the cat.
“Cats,” murmured Camilla. “Never cared for them myself.”
“But they’re so adorable,” said Maggie in a doting voice. “I’ve always wanted one myself. I would just love to get a Lowlands Bluetail someday.”
“A Lowlands Bluetail?” asked Mindy with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t those the six-foot jungle cats with claws that tear flesh?”
“You can get them declawed,” insisted Maggie with a slight pout. “And they make the cutest sound when you pet them!”
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Mindy.
“Shhh!” whispered Camilla, pointing. “Do you hear that?”
The other girls immediately saw what she was pointing at. In a hallway full of closed doors, one of them was ajar. Furthermore, a light was on inside and a voice could be heard from within.
“I don’t care what they want, Dominique,” said the voice from the other side of the door. “This is my house and I will see them on my own terms. You are to instruct our guests that they may see my out on my balcony in ten minutes’ time.”
Mindy grinned. “Paydirt.”
The three girls did their best to look occupied, and very shortly the door opened and a serving-maid exited the room. Luckily, she was too concerned about drawing the Lady’s ire to bother looking out for suspicious looking intruders in maids’ uniforms. They watched the serving-maid walk down the hallway and out of sight. All three of them realized at once: with the maid gone and Lady Sableridge out on her balcony, the room was effectively empty.
Under other circumstances, they might have hesitated. At least Camilla would have carefully weighed her options before plunging headlong into a dangerous gamble. But the circumstances were far from normal. They were in disguise, infiltrating a strange mansion at the behest of an ancient magical idol that apparently had plans for them. It was not the time for restraint. They looked at each other, and it was clear they were all thinking the same thing. At the same time, all three girls seized the moment and dashed into the room.
And their daring paid off. The bedroom they found themselves in was lavishly decorated, but far more importantly: it was empty. A set of open French doors in one corner led out to a balcony where they could just see the shadow cast by Lady Sableridge in the moonlight. Knowing that their target was so close and yet oblivious to their presence was exhilarating: their hearts raced and their reflexes felt honed to the keenest edge. Soon, Lady Sableridge’s guest would arrive, and if all went well their conversation might hold the vital clues to the silver-masked gang that the three girls had been looking for. But first, they would need a hiding place.
Fortune was with them that evening: there was no need to wonder where to hide. Lady Sableridge’s chamber included a walk-in closet, whose door was slightly ajar. All three of them simultaneously turned their heads in the direction of the closet, and in seconds they were inside, hiding in the shadows as they peeked out through the cracked-open door. Hiding in the very back so they would not be seen, Camilla and Mindy were able to crouch fairly comfortably, but Maggie was forced to kneel with her bare feet turned upwards.
“What now?” whispered Mindy in the darkness.
“Now we wait for Lady Sableridge’s guest to arrive,” Camilla whispered back quietly. “We may not be able to see everything, but we can still hear them.”
“Wait, what’s that sound?” asked Maggie.
“Oh, stop it,” whispered Mindy. “This is creepy enough as it is.”
“No, she’s right,” whispered Camilla, pointing to the opposite corner of the closet. “We’re not alone in here.”
As the girls watched, a small, dark shape was heading towards them. The girls looked on, first in relief and then in dawning horror, as they saw what the approaching shape was. It was The Duchess: Lady Sableridge’s Persian Longhair cat, and in its feline curiosity it was heading directly for Maggie’s upturned bare feet.
None of the girls dared to move or make a sound, but they eyed the cat in the futile hope that it would turn away at the last minute, and spare Maggie the ordeal that would be in store for her. But once a cat makes up its mind it is not easily dissuaded. With a calm, self-possessed walk, The Duchess sauntered up to Maggie’s enormous wrinkled soles, and after studying them for a moment, gently leapt on top of them to explore these new surfaces.
Maggie managed to bite her lip just in time, but her body shook with a spasm so violent that Camilla and Mindy feared it would be felt in the room outside. Maggie’s face was split in an enormous, desperate grin as the soft, furry feline walked across her ticklish soles without any concern for what it was doing to their owner. The Duchess strolled across thirty-two inches of bare giant sole, surveying her new domain with satisfaction. Her padded velvety paws pressed into Maggie’s ticklish pressure points, forcing her to grab the closet pole with both hands to keep herself from thrashing.
But even worse was the furry tickling: long, silky-soft fur that gently brushed across Maggie’s soles as the Duchess paced up and down from heel to toes. Lady Sableridge had doted upon her pet, buying treatments that had given The Duchess perhaps the softest fur in the entire city. And now the fur was everywhere: stroking her arches, tickling her insteps, and brushing across the balls of her feet as The Duchess’ twitching tail swept the territory behind her. The tail fell between Maggie’s splaying toes, exposing those tender regions to the tickling touch of soft fur.
Maggie already looked to be on her last legs. Her forced grin trembled with the effort of staying silent, and her eyes filled with tears that trickled down her cheeks. Her entire body shook with silent laughter: her enormous breasts heaved under the greatly inadequate support of her bra, her hair became thrown about, and glistening beads of sweat formed on her exposed skin as she fought for self-control. Camilla looked at her with pity, wishing she could do something to alleviate her torment. And although Mindy felt the same way, she couldn’t deny that watching Maggie’s silent suffering was turning her on fiercely. She felt herself getting flushed, and not for the first time cursed her libido.
Camilla and Mindy glanced at each other with dire concern. They knew that it was only a matter of time before their friend lost the battle, and if Lady Sableridge was still in the room they would be discovered immediately. Maggie had to hold out until she left.
Maggie’s knuckles were white as she grasped the metal closet pole with all her might, trying to fight for control. Such was her strength that Camilla and Mindy saw indentations forming in the metal where Maggie’s fingers pressed down on it. But all her physical strength could not save her from this tickling trial. Camilla tried her best to make silent faces and gestures that might frighten away the Duchess. But The Duchess had never had to be frightened of anything before, and she was not about to give up such pleasantly warm and soft surfaces. She stared back at Camilla, arching her back and pawing Maggie’s soles, to demonstrate that this was hers.
Lady Sableridge’s voice spoke from the other side of the door, perhaps to a servant or merely to herself, but none of the girls were listening. Mindy held her hands over Maggie’s mouth to hold in the laughter, but she knew full well that when the laughter finally came it would emerge with the force of a hurricane. Camilla, meanwhile, inched closer and closer to The Duchess, moving in silence but bound to stop the cat before Maggie reached her breaking point. As a girl with hyper-ticklish feet herself, Camilla understood the kind of torture Maggie was going through. Just the thought of soft, furry tickles on her own helpless feet made Camilla’s toes curl.
But the worst of the ordeal was still to come. In the enclosed closet, the girls could smell the sweet musk rising from Maggie’s warm pink soles as her body temperature rose. But to The Duchess’ sensitive feline sense of smell, the effect was even more enticing. After stopping to sniff the air and determine the source of this new heady scent, The Duchess leaned down and began to lick Maggie’s soles with her long, rough tongue.
“Stop her!” hissed Camilla to Mindy. She was no longer worried about being heard, the only danger now was preventing Maggie’s laughter. With feet as ticklish as Maggie’s they had only seconds before the cat’s tongue became unbearable. Already Maggie’s body trembled violently, her eyes shut tightly as tears streamed down her face in rivers. Her toes flexed and clenched like fingers making a fist, and her lips quivered on the verge of exploding with laughter. Meanwhile, The Duchess continued to placidly lick Maggie’s soles, unaware that she was utterly destroying the massive woman.
Mindy desperately tried to reach the cat, not caring now if she had to push clothing out of the way to get to it. But with every precious second she could see Maggie’s resolve dissipating, until just as she was about to reach The Duchess…
“MMMMMPPPPHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I CAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAANN’T TAAAAHAHAHAHAHAKE IT!!!!!” Maggie’s poor soles had taken all the punishment they could bear, and at last all the pent-up laughter broke through the gates of her resistance like a floodwater drowning everything in its path. Her red, tortured feet kicked wildly to escape the tickling, and in the chaos of the enclosed space, Maggie’s enormous frame was unleashed on the closet like a tornado. Shelves toppled, dresses flew about like leaves in the wind, and her entire body flew against the closet door, causing it to fly open and all three girls to spill out into the bedroom!
There was nobody there. All three girls lay in a tangled heap on the floor, looking up and expecting to see half the Manor’s guards on top of them. But the entire room was deserted. The balcony through the French doors was unoccupied. Like trapped animals they held their breath, listening for the approaching hunters, but there was nothing. No footsteps, no shouting, no sound at all. Only an eerie silence reigned over Sableridge Manor.
“What…what’s going on?” asked Mindy.
“No, no, no. This is very wrong,” muttered Camilla, looking around. “They knew we were coming.”
“What do you mean?” asked Maggie, still breathing heavily.
“We have to get out of here!” insisted Camilla. She found no argument from her fearful companions. All three of them ran out of the room, no longer worried about stealth but only about reaching the exit to the Manor before…something happened. No one knew what it was, but a terrible feeling of dread was looming over them: a doom that could descend at any moment.
The girls ran down the hallways, all the more terrible for their emptiness. There were neither guards nor staff, as though someone had emptied the entire Manor for their own dark reasons. Elongated shadows fell across their path like ghostly bars, and every one of their own footfalls seemed to echo throughout the Manor, deafening in the silence. They were just about to reach the hall to the main entrance, when they stopped in their tracks. The specter had descended.
Standing motionless in the center of the hallway before them was a figure in a black hooded cloak wearing a silver mask. The permanent, ghastly grin carved into the mask smiled as though mocking them: ridiculing their efforts that had been as vain as a marionette trying to cut its own strings. Somehow, looking into that monstrous, featureless face, they felt the enormity of what they were involved in. The masked figure said nothing, because nothing remained to be said: she had studied them, slowly coaxed them from afar, and now they were caught in her exquisite web.
Slowly, the masked woman raised her hand, holding her upturned palm in front of her. Suddenly, her hand was no longer empty. In it, she held a golden gem-studded idol of a naked woman in a kneeling position. The eyes of the idol stared back at each of the girls, until the weight of its gaze became unbearable. Around them, the hall began to glow blue, radiating light and heat the bore down on them with unsupportable weight. They tried to run, but their feet were fixed to the ground like statues. The masked woman slowly walked towards them, and with every step the weight of the idol’s presence became greater. The three girls fell to their knees, and the world began to spin around them. In their last moments of consciousness, they looked up to see the masked woman looming over each of them, and they felt sure that beneath the mask, she too was smiling. Bathed in the light of the idol, they fell to the ground, and darkness overtook them.
The Characters:
Camilla – Strong and athletic, Camilla’s greatest aspiration is to rush the Sorority of City Guards. A believer in law and order above all, Camilla tends to be the responsible one in a group. She has been drafted by the Dark Lady, leader of the Sorority of Thieves, to find a dangerous magical idol. Camilla is ticklish all over her body, a weakness which cost her admission to the Sorority of City Guards the last time she rushed them.
Maggie – One-quarter giantess, Maggie is twelve feet tall with an enormous pair of feet to match her stature. Maggie belongs to the Sorority of Explorers, but despite her rustic job and physical strength she tends to be quite girly, taking regular pedicures as part of her life as a city girl. Maggie’s worst tickle spots are her giant-sized feet, which are hyper-ticklish to the touch. But there is a good side to her sensitive tootsies: an expert foot massage can take her to the heights of utter ecstasy.
Mindy – Geek girl and avid tabletop gamer, Mindy belongs to the Sorority of Sages where she studies the phenomenon of magic between roleplaying sessions. Mindy has no end of tickle spots, but is most ticklish on her upper body, especially her underarms and her enormous breasts. However, as ticklish as Mindy is, tickling has an intensely erotic effect on her. Being tickled, especially on her breasts, has brought Mindy to some of the most overwhelming orgasms she has ever experienced.
The Story So Far:
After a series of seeming coincidences brought all three girls together for the first time, they were suddenly trapped in a magical vision generated by a golden idol recently found by the Sorority of Explorers. The idol showed them visions from long ago through the eyes of mysterious individuals. They do know that the idol has plans for them, but they do not know why or how. However, they intend to find out.
After a visit to their ticklish informant Blackmarket Becka, the girls were told that their answers lie in Sableridge Manor, a mansion at the edge of Port Bastion. A mysterious group of women dressed in black cloaks with grinning silver masks had been spotted there, and the girls know that this mysterious organization is somehow tied to the idol. None of them know what they will find inside Sableridge Manor, but it’s the only chance they have to learn the truth.
And now, ladies and gentlemen:
City of Sororities - Chapter 4
Port Bastion did not have what could be a called a “wealthy neighborhood” in the strictest sense. That would imply a degree of city planning which simply did not exist. Granted, there were areas you could go where you were probabilistically less likely to encounter helpful individuals who sold you “insurance against being hit over the head with a bottle, like this one here, for instance”. But as with all games of chance, if you played long enough the house would eventually win.
Consequently, estates like Sableridge Manor were surrounded by very high walls topped with razor wire. The high wall was primarily to keep the people inside from being reminded of what sort of neighborhood they lived in, and the razor wire took care of the job of keeping neighbors out. But Lady Sableridge was apparently one of those people who could afford additional peace of mind. The gate to the Manor was not only locked, but a guard stood sentry in front of it. And being the sort of person who purchased only the best, Lady Sableridge had hired a lamia guard.
The lamias were a race from the barbarian lands (expectedly, no one was too clear on where) who had found particular success in Port Bastion doing any sort of job that included intimidation. It was easy to see why. From the waist down, lamias had the body of a serpent, which allowed them to slither quickly across the ground and even pick up objects with their dexterous tails. From the waist up, a lamia looked mostly like a human woman, except for one detail. They had six arms. When combined with superhuman upper-body strength and a general upright height of about seven feet, it was easy to see why most people decided to walk on the other side of the street when they saw a lamia approaching.
The lamia guard eyed the three girls distrustfully as they approached the gate to Sableridge Manor. “Move along,” she said tersely, carefully watching all of them.
“Actually, can you help us with something?” asked Mindy. It was not perhaps the stealthiest way to begin their infiltration, but she couldn’t think of anything better.
“No.” The lamia folded her topmost set of arms while the remaining four looked ready to do something unfortunate to anyone who might cross her.
Camilla felt like this was not going well. “Look, would it help if—“
“I strongly suggest that all of you keep moving before someone gets hurt,” said the guard with a glare. She spoke angrily but slowly, with the tone of someone trying to control their accent. And although she managed to say her “s”s without hissing, they could see her long forked tongue flicking in serpentine patterns as she spoke.
“Hey, you can’t talk to us like that!” challenged Mindy, stepping forwards.
Whether Mindy was going to take some sort of aggressive action, they never had time to find out. The lamia’s reflexes were lightning-fast, and as soon as she saw Mindy moving towards her, all six arms darted out to grab her. Unfortunately for her, there was another person in the group who had fast reflexes and strength even greater than a lamia’s. Before the guard could lay a hand on Mindy, Maggie grabbed her by the wrists and had her dangling in the air, with the very tip of her serpent’s tail barely scraping the ground.
“What were you thinking?” demanded Camilla, turning to Mindy.
“I was thinking we had a twelve-foot woman on our side,” said Mindy with a smirk.
“Taking me for granted, hmm?” asked Maggie, still dangling the guard. “I should have let her have you.”
“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t do that,” said Mindy.
“Let me down from here!” spat the guard, her tail whipping about as she thrashed.
“Not just yet,” said Maggie. With her free hand, she plucked some of the thin iron bars from the gate and bent them until she had fashioned six makeshift handcuffs, which she used to string the lamia up to the gate by all six of her arms. The guard hung from her bondage, thrashing furiously and trying to free her arms, but even her strength was not enough to free her.
“We’d be happy to let you down,” said Camilla. “As soon as you tell us everything you know about any visitors to this Manor wearing black cloaks and silver masks.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” insisted the guard. “I guard the gate! That’s all I know!”
But as the words came out of her mouth, something began to happen. Camilla, Mindy, and Maggie felt the world begin to turn. There was a sensation of falling: not in a direction, but away from all directions. Suddenly, the world was bathed in a pale blue aura, and they recognized it: it was the power of the idol that they had experienced in the tavern. They felt its presence, but it was nowhere to be seen, and before they could look for it, there was a bright flash of light…
There was a moment of vertigo, and suddenly they saw…themselves. They were looking out through the guard’s eyes, at these three intruders who were trying to force their way into the Manor. But they only saw this for a moment, because the present faded around them and suddenly they felt themselves looking at a memory of the past…
It was the interior of Sableridge Manor. Tonight was an important night, and the lamia had been called inside to act as a bodyguard. No one was to be allowed access to the study that night, whatever the reason. And just before the door was shut completely, the guard happened to look inside. There was Lady Sableridge at her desk, the surface of which was covered in gold coins. There was a small fortune laid out before her, and in curiosity the guard looked up to see who had placed it there. Standing beside the Lady was a tall figure, wearing a black hooded cloak and wearing a grinning silver mask…
And just as quickly, the vision ended. As the three of them recovered from the vertigo, Maggie grumbled, “Not again…”
“You lied to us!” said Camilla angrily. “You’ve seen them before! And Lady Sableridge is in league with them, too!”
“It’s none of your bussss-inessss!” hissed the guard. Now that she was angry, her lamia accent was beginning to reassert itself.
“You’d better let us in, or it’s going to go very badly for you,” warned Camilla.
The lamia grinned mirthlessly at them. “And what do you thhhink you can do?”
“Oh, I know a thing or two about lamias,” volunteered Mindy, stepping forward. “Not many weaknesses, but there is one in particular you don’t like to talk about, isn’t there?” And by way of explanation, Mindy planted her fingers just underneath the lamia’s lowest pair of arms.
“Tssssss-ssssss-ssssss! Don’t…do that!” giggled the lamia in her hissing voice, a broad grin on her face. She began to squirm, and her serpent’s tail began twitching back and forth.
“Yes, if I had six ticklish underarms, I wouldn’t advertise it either,” said Mindy with a smile. “Just two have enough of an effect, and it only gets worse from there.”
“Hssssss! Not—hehehehehehe—letting you in!” giggled the lamia as Mindy’s fingers gently pressed into her lower underarms.
“Perhaps this will change your mind,” offered Camilla, stepping forwards. Emboldened by their new discovery, Camilla reached forwards and began tickling the next pair of soft, exposed underarms.
“TSSSSSSSSS—HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” With Mindy’s soft, teasing touch combined with Camilla’s kneading fingers, the assault on four underarms was more than the lamia could resist. Her hissing giggles gave way to full-bodied laughter: the universal language of ticklish women from races all over the Continent.
“Too bad you don’t have scales here, isn’t it?” asked Camilla with a smile. She was enjoying herself, and that translated to more creative tickling. She sought out the softest spots she could find, and there were certainly a lot of them. Most human women would have to spend a fortune to get skin this soft. Perhaps it was nature’s way of compensating for a tickle-proof lower body.
“AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! STAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!” cried the lamia. Tears started to form in her green eyes, and her tail swished back and forth madly, but she was helpless to protect herself.
“Stop?” asked Maggie, stepping forward. “We can’t do that. Why, I haven’t even had my turn!” And with a grin, Maggie reached out with her pinky fingers to tickle the lamia’s only remaining pair of underarms.
As ticklish as human women got, there was one thing they never had to experience: the sensation of having six ticklish underarms fall under simultaneous attack. And facing the fingernails of girls set on getting their way, the triple devastation was unbearable. The fearsome serpentine guard was in hysterics, with a look of utter ticklish surrender on her face as she experienced every lamia’s worst fear.
“OHHHOHOHOHOHO GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHADDD!!!” she screamed, all six of her arms tugging wildly at their bondage in the vain hope that one of them might be able to protect the ticklish hollow underneath. But none of them lowered an inch, and the torture from three fronts continued.
“Now, don’t you think you might be able to help us out?” asked Camilla, drilling her fingers into the exact centers of her set of underarms, where the skin was the absolute softest.
“ANYTHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHANG!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! ANYTHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHANNNNNGG!!!” she howled. Her job as a guard meant nothing to her at this point: her only concern was saving herself from the ticklish hell.
“So how exactly can you help us, sweetie?” asked Mindy, her slender fingers stroking the curves of her set of underarms.
“KEY!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! BAHAHACK DOOOHOOHOOHOHOOOR!!! EEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!” The girls looked down, and there were indeed two prominent brass keys hanging from her belt. One of them presumably opened the gate, while the other was the one she was talking about. All of them knew, of course, that the lamia was far too ticklish to be lying.
“It’s amazing how helpful she can be when she wants to,” giggled Maggie. Her fingers, although large, were still relatively slender for a woman her size, and her pinky fingers were just the right size to tickle the lamia’s uppermost pair of underarms.
“LET ME GOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!!! WOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!” howled the guard hysterically.
“Well girls, should we?” asked Mindy with a grin.
“Why, what’s the hurry?” Camilla smirked back. “I think we can spare a few more minutes for our friend here. Perhaps this will teach her to be a little more polite in the future.”
It was an hour later that the three girls left an exhausted and unconscious guard at the gate and headed in towards the Manor. The next day, an advertisement appeared in the Port Bastion newspaper for a new guard needed at Sableridge Manor, the old one having left for “unspecified reasons”. The management declined to elaborate.
* * * * *
The room the three girls found themselves in after using the key was clearly some kind of servants’ chamber for the scullery maids of the house. The walls were lined with neatly pressed maid’s uniforms: short black dresses with petticoats and lacy white aprons. They ran the gamut from all sizes small to large, and each one had a small pink feather-duster hanging next to it: the primary tool of the trade. Over on the far wall was an open cabinet which displayed rows upon rows of identical black high-heeled shoes to match the uniforms, neatly arranged in order of shoe size.
“Ooh, just look at these!” exclaimed Mindy, picking out a uniform in her size. “I have a cosplay outfit just like this at home!”
“A what?” asked Maggie.
“These may be our ticket in here, actually,” said Camilla. “I can’t think of an easier way to give us free reign of the house.”
“Won’t they recognize that we’re not part of the staff?” asked Maggie.
“Not necessarily,” said Camilla. “A house this size could have dozens of scullery maids. And besides, the gentry of the house would never look a servant in the eye. I doubt they know what their own servants look like.”
“It’s a moot point,” said Maggie. “I doubt they have a uniform in my size.” It seemed to Camilla that there was the faintest tinge of regret in her voice as Maggie looked over the feminine uniforms.
“Actually, it looks like they do,” said Mindy from the corner. As Camilla and Maggie looked over at her they saw a maid’s uniform tailored for, amazingly, a woman of Maggie’s size. It hung right next to a six-inch tall uniform and another which looked like it had been tailored for a centaur of sorts. Apparently Sableridge Manor went through a variety of domestic servants.
The girls slipped into their uniforms quickly, and went about the business of picking shoes in their size. But although the Manor had been considerate enough to stock a uniform on Maggie’s size, it appeared that they had not extended the courtesy to stocking shoes for a woman with thirty-two inch feet.
“I’ll…just have to keep my sandals on,” said Maggie, a bit disappointed.
Camilla shook her head. “That would be too noticeable. I’d say our best bet is for you to go barefoot. At least then you could say you lost your shoes.”
“I’m not going barefoot!” insisted Maggie.
“Why?” asked Camilla with a knowing smile. “What are you afraid of?”
Mindy giggled. “I think she’s afraid of something like this!” And she made a dive towards Maggie’s bare feet with her feather duster, feathering the bottoms of her enormous soles before Maggie could stop her.
“EEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!! NOT THE FEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEETTT!!!” Maggie squealed, rolling on the ground to escape the surprise tickling attack.
“Tickle-tickle-tickle!” teased Mindy as she twirled her feather duster over Maggie’s squirming feet. “So this is what you were afraid of, huh? Someone getting a hold of these big, ticklish tootsies? And there’s sooo much of them to tickle, too!”
“STAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPPP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Maggie kicked wildly as she rolled around, not managing to escape the feathering of her soles, but only succeeding in flipping up her short, frilly skirt as she squirmed. Camilla caught a glimpse of soft but muscular thighs underneath, and a flash of lacy pink panties as her long legs kicked in the air. Camilla had to admit that she found herself suddenly distracted.
“It’s your fault for having such dirty feet!” chided Mindy. “Now I’ve got to dust them clean! I’ll just feather these lovely big feet until I think they’re done!” Mindy grinned as she straddled Maggie’s leg, wrapping her own legs around it so she could stay safe from the kicking feet.
But in her lust to tickle Maggie’s huge vulnerable feet, Mindy had let her own defenses down. Even though Maggie was crying tears of laughter, she still had the self possession to grab her own feather duster and retaliate. Holding the small instrument like a pencil, Maggie rolled over until she had a clear shot at Mindy, and thrust her feather duster up the skirt of Mindy’s maid uniform.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! TICKLES!!!” shrieked Mindy as the feather duster made contact with her own soft, sensitive thighs. Her knees immediately buckled beneath her and she fell down on the floor beside Maggie. “NOT THEEHEHEHEHEHERRRE!!!”
“TAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE THAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!!!” laughed Maggie. Mindy’s feather duster still tickled her own feet with a vengeance, but she managed to extract some payback as she feathered Mindy’s ticklish inner thighs. From the looks of it, Maggie had discovered a wildly feather-ticklish spot.
“I’LL GET YOHOOHOOHOOHOO FOR THAAAHAHAHAHAHATTT!!!” howled Mindy, tears already streaming down her cheeks as she re-doubled her own tickling efforts. No longer content to only use her feather duster, Mindy brought in her other hand to rake her fingernails across Maggie’s giant soles.
“NOOOOOOOOOOHOOHOOHOOOHOOHOOHOOOOO!!!” bellowed Maggie in the face of her ultimate weakness. The pairing of fingers and feathers on her enormous, ticklish feet was a combination she was powerless to resist. Her soles flexed and writhed as her long, shapely four-inch toes danced frantically beneath Mindy’s ticklish manipulations. She had no ability to think of her surroundings, or the danger of their mission: all she could think about was how ticklish her feet were.
But still, some innate instinct in Maggie drove her fingers to continue working her feather duster across Mindy’s ticklish thighs. And no matter how furiously Mindy tickled, she could not stop her giant opponent from exploiting her own ticklishness. The short maid’s dress provided no protection at all, and this was definitely a spot on which Mindy needed protection. Her own petite frame could not match the volume of laughter produced by Maggie’s giant-sized lungs, but she came surprisingly close. But more embarrassingly, Mindy could feel the effects of her rising libido at being feathered on her tender thighs. Her nipples began to grow visible through the thin fabric of her dress, and her panties, already on display in the midst of her tickle fight, began to grow moist.
“Quiet! They’ll hear you!” hushed Camilla in an exasperated whisper. She stopped halfway through putting on hr shoes and looked at the two girls in the middle of a full-fledged tickle fight. She had already felt some trepidation about this plan, and two ticklish girls laughing at the tops of their lungs were not doing anything to make her feel more secure.
But neither girl was ready to back down. Mindy had dropped her feather duster and was using all ten fingernails to tickle Maggie’s enormous right foot, producing peals of giantess laughter that threatened to bring the roof down. But Maggie was dealing it out as well as she was taking it, and her feather duster up Mindy’s skirt was having a devastating effect.
“You’ll give us away!” insisted Camilla, but again neither of the girls paid attention to her. All right, she told herself: I’ve tried being reasonable, now it’s time to play it their way. She would get their attention one way or the other. And while the two girls were occupied with each other, Camilla ran up behind Mindy and launched a tickling assault on her exposed underarms.
“EEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!! NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOO FAAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR!!!” shrieked Mindy as she felt Camilla’s fingers dig into her sensitive underarms. With the odds now against her, Mindy’s body was simply too ticklish to stand against a twofold attack. She collapsed into a laughing wreck, unable to fight back.
“Are you ready to listen now?” asked Camilla with a grin. She couldn’t deny that she was enjoying this immensely.
“YEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHESSS!!! MERCEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!” screamed Mindy as she writhed in ticklish agony. She fell off her perch on Maggie’s leg, laughing hysterically.
Camilla looked down at her triumphantly, wondering if maybe a little extra disciplinary tickling was in order. But as she was lost in these pleasant thoughts, she failed to account for Maggie. Still light-headed and blurry-eyed from her tickling ordeal, Maggie was still set on fighting back, and with Mindy out of the way, Maggie’s roving feather duster made contact with the closest target it could find. It brushed across Camilla’s bare foot.
“EEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!! NOT THE FEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!” squealed Camilla as she felt the feather duster on her exposed ticklish sole. Mindy’s killer instinct honed in on this moment of weakness, and she immediately leapt at Camilla’s other foot, plucking off the shoe and subjecting it to a full-on tickling.
“Koochie-koochie-koo!” cried Mindy in delight as she tickled Camilla’s bare foot. “This will teach you to use a cheap shot on me!”
“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! PLEASE NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!” cried Camilla through her laughter. This was not the way she had envisioned things going. But she wouldn’t be stopped now. Her flailing hands gripped one of the discarded feather dusters on the ground, and she immediately took her new weapon and turned it on the spot she knew would even the odds: Mindy’s creamy, exposed thighs.
“AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT AGAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAINNN!!!” screamed Mindy as she felt the soft feather duster twirling underneath her dress. Frantically she grasped around for a weapon of her own to use. However, no other feather dusters were at hand. The first thing her roving fingers came into contact with instead was the soft, ticklish expanse of Maggie’s left foot.
“EEEEEEEAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!” Maggie went insane as Mindy’s grasping fingers sank into the soft, pillowy surface of her tender sole. Screaming the kind of laughter only a ticklish giantess could make, Maggie rolled across the ground in a spasm of hysterics. She struck the far wall, and with the force of her own weight plus the two girls on top of her, this was enough to upset the shoe-cabinet that held the maids’ shoes. There was a thunderous crash, and all three girls were thrown apart as the air filled with a rain of black stiletto-heeled shoes.
“This is the worst break-in ever,” muttered Camilla from beneath her pile of footwear.
* * * * *
The dark halls of Sableridge Manor after dark were lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the tall ironwork windows, casting long, looming shadows throughout the high-ceilinged hallways. This made it fairly easy to replicate the hushed anxiety that three serving maids would have been expected to display. The few servants they passed were in just as much of a hurry as they were, and passed by without stopping. Their success, however, did little to make them feel better.
One thing that was in abundance, however, was portraits of Lady Sableridge. At the head of the stairs they passed by the likeness of the Lady of the house: a tall, austere woman holding a Persian Longhair cat who even managed to look down at Maggie. It was one of those paintings whose eyes follow you wherever you go, which might not have been so bad if the cat hadn’t done the same thing. Beneath the portrait was a brass plaque: “Her Ladyship and The Duchess”, the second title presumably referring to the cat.
“Cats,” murmured Camilla. “Never cared for them myself.”
“But they’re so adorable,” said Maggie in a doting voice. “I’ve always wanted one myself. I would just love to get a Lowlands Bluetail someday.”
“A Lowlands Bluetail?” asked Mindy with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t those the six-foot jungle cats with claws that tear flesh?”
“You can get them declawed,” insisted Maggie with a slight pout. “And they make the cutest sound when you pet them!”
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Mindy.
“Shhh!” whispered Camilla, pointing. “Do you hear that?”
The other girls immediately saw what she was pointing at. In a hallway full of closed doors, one of them was ajar. Furthermore, a light was on inside and a voice could be heard from within.
“I don’t care what they want, Dominique,” said the voice from the other side of the door. “This is my house and I will see them on my own terms. You are to instruct our guests that they may see my out on my balcony in ten minutes’ time.”
Mindy grinned. “Paydirt.”
The three girls did their best to look occupied, and very shortly the door opened and a serving-maid exited the room. Luckily, she was too concerned about drawing the Lady’s ire to bother looking out for suspicious looking intruders in maids’ uniforms. They watched the serving-maid walk down the hallway and out of sight. All three of them realized at once: with the maid gone and Lady Sableridge out on her balcony, the room was effectively empty.
Under other circumstances, they might have hesitated. At least Camilla would have carefully weighed her options before plunging headlong into a dangerous gamble. But the circumstances were far from normal. They were in disguise, infiltrating a strange mansion at the behest of an ancient magical idol that apparently had plans for them. It was not the time for restraint. They looked at each other, and it was clear they were all thinking the same thing. At the same time, all three girls seized the moment and dashed into the room.
And their daring paid off. The bedroom they found themselves in was lavishly decorated, but far more importantly: it was empty. A set of open French doors in one corner led out to a balcony where they could just see the shadow cast by Lady Sableridge in the moonlight. Knowing that their target was so close and yet oblivious to their presence was exhilarating: their hearts raced and their reflexes felt honed to the keenest edge. Soon, Lady Sableridge’s guest would arrive, and if all went well their conversation might hold the vital clues to the silver-masked gang that the three girls had been looking for. But first, they would need a hiding place.
Fortune was with them that evening: there was no need to wonder where to hide. Lady Sableridge’s chamber included a walk-in closet, whose door was slightly ajar. All three of them simultaneously turned their heads in the direction of the closet, and in seconds they were inside, hiding in the shadows as they peeked out through the cracked-open door. Hiding in the very back so they would not be seen, Camilla and Mindy were able to crouch fairly comfortably, but Maggie was forced to kneel with her bare feet turned upwards.
“What now?” whispered Mindy in the darkness.
“Now we wait for Lady Sableridge’s guest to arrive,” Camilla whispered back quietly. “We may not be able to see everything, but we can still hear them.”
“Wait, what’s that sound?” asked Maggie.
“Oh, stop it,” whispered Mindy. “This is creepy enough as it is.”
“No, she’s right,” whispered Camilla, pointing to the opposite corner of the closet. “We’re not alone in here.”
As the girls watched, a small, dark shape was heading towards them. The girls looked on, first in relief and then in dawning horror, as they saw what the approaching shape was. It was The Duchess: Lady Sableridge’s Persian Longhair cat, and in its feline curiosity it was heading directly for Maggie’s upturned bare feet.
None of the girls dared to move or make a sound, but they eyed the cat in the futile hope that it would turn away at the last minute, and spare Maggie the ordeal that would be in store for her. But once a cat makes up its mind it is not easily dissuaded. With a calm, self-possessed walk, The Duchess sauntered up to Maggie’s enormous wrinkled soles, and after studying them for a moment, gently leapt on top of them to explore these new surfaces.
Maggie managed to bite her lip just in time, but her body shook with a spasm so violent that Camilla and Mindy feared it would be felt in the room outside. Maggie’s face was split in an enormous, desperate grin as the soft, furry feline walked across her ticklish soles without any concern for what it was doing to their owner. The Duchess strolled across thirty-two inches of bare giant sole, surveying her new domain with satisfaction. Her padded velvety paws pressed into Maggie’s ticklish pressure points, forcing her to grab the closet pole with both hands to keep herself from thrashing.
But even worse was the furry tickling: long, silky-soft fur that gently brushed across Maggie’s soles as the Duchess paced up and down from heel to toes. Lady Sableridge had doted upon her pet, buying treatments that had given The Duchess perhaps the softest fur in the entire city. And now the fur was everywhere: stroking her arches, tickling her insteps, and brushing across the balls of her feet as The Duchess’ twitching tail swept the territory behind her. The tail fell between Maggie’s splaying toes, exposing those tender regions to the tickling touch of soft fur.
Maggie already looked to be on her last legs. Her forced grin trembled with the effort of staying silent, and her eyes filled with tears that trickled down her cheeks. Her entire body shook with silent laughter: her enormous breasts heaved under the greatly inadequate support of her bra, her hair became thrown about, and glistening beads of sweat formed on her exposed skin as she fought for self-control. Camilla looked at her with pity, wishing she could do something to alleviate her torment. And although Mindy felt the same way, she couldn’t deny that watching Maggie’s silent suffering was turning her on fiercely. She felt herself getting flushed, and not for the first time cursed her libido.
Camilla and Mindy glanced at each other with dire concern. They knew that it was only a matter of time before their friend lost the battle, and if Lady Sableridge was still in the room they would be discovered immediately. Maggie had to hold out until she left.
Maggie’s knuckles were white as she grasped the metal closet pole with all her might, trying to fight for control. Such was her strength that Camilla and Mindy saw indentations forming in the metal where Maggie’s fingers pressed down on it. But all her physical strength could not save her from this tickling trial. Camilla tried her best to make silent faces and gestures that might frighten away the Duchess. But The Duchess had never had to be frightened of anything before, and she was not about to give up such pleasantly warm and soft surfaces. She stared back at Camilla, arching her back and pawing Maggie’s soles, to demonstrate that this was hers.
Lady Sableridge’s voice spoke from the other side of the door, perhaps to a servant or merely to herself, but none of the girls were listening. Mindy held her hands over Maggie’s mouth to hold in the laughter, but she knew full well that when the laughter finally came it would emerge with the force of a hurricane. Camilla, meanwhile, inched closer and closer to The Duchess, moving in silence but bound to stop the cat before Maggie reached her breaking point. As a girl with hyper-ticklish feet herself, Camilla understood the kind of torture Maggie was going through. Just the thought of soft, furry tickles on her own helpless feet made Camilla’s toes curl.
But the worst of the ordeal was still to come. In the enclosed closet, the girls could smell the sweet musk rising from Maggie’s warm pink soles as her body temperature rose. But to The Duchess’ sensitive feline sense of smell, the effect was even more enticing. After stopping to sniff the air and determine the source of this new heady scent, The Duchess leaned down and began to lick Maggie’s soles with her long, rough tongue.
“Stop her!” hissed Camilla to Mindy. She was no longer worried about being heard, the only danger now was preventing Maggie’s laughter. With feet as ticklish as Maggie’s they had only seconds before the cat’s tongue became unbearable. Already Maggie’s body trembled violently, her eyes shut tightly as tears streamed down her face in rivers. Her toes flexed and clenched like fingers making a fist, and her lips quivered on the verge of exploding with laughter. Meanwhile, The Duchess continued to placidly lick Maggie’s soles, unaware that she was utterly destroying the massive woman.
Mindy desperately tried to reach the cat, not caring now if she had to push clothing out of the way to get to it. But with every precious second she could see Maggie’s resolve dissipating, until just as she was about to reach The Duchess…
“MMMMMPPPPHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I CAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAANN’T TAAAAHAHAHAHAHAKE IT!!!!!” Maggie’s poor soles had taken all the punishment they could bear, and at last all the pent-up laughter broke through the gates of her resistance like a floodwater drowning everything in its path. Her red, tortured feet kicked wildly to escape the tickling, and in the chaos of the enclosed space, Maggie’s enormous frame was unleashed on the closet like a tornado. Shelves toppled, dresses flew about like leaves in the wind, and her entire body flew against the closet door, causing it to fly open and all three girls to spill out into the bedroom!
There was nobody there. All three girls lay in a tangled heap on the floor, looking up and expecting to see half the Manor’s guards on top of them. But the entire room was deserted. The balcony through the French doors was unoccupied. Like trapped animals they held their breath, listening for the approaching hunters, but there was nothing. No footsteps, no shouting, no sound at all. Only an eerie silence reigned over Sableridge Manor.
“What…what’s going on?” asked Mindy.
“No, no, no. This is very wrong,” muttered Camilla, looking around. “They knew we were coming.”
“What do you mean?” asked Maggie, still breathing heavily.
“We have to get out of here!” insisted Camilla. She found no argument from her fearful companions. All three of them ran out of the room, no longer worried about stealth but only about reaching the exit to the Manor before…something happened. No one knew what it was, but a terrible feeling of dread was looming over them: a doom that could descend at any moment.
The girls ran down the hallways, all the more terrible for their emptiness. There were neither guards nor staff, as though someone had emptied the entire Manor for their own dark reasons. Elongated shadows fell across their path like ghostly bars, and every one of their own footfalls seemed to echo throughout the Manor, deafening in the silence. They were just about to reach the hall to the main entrance, when they stopped in their tracks. The specter had descended.
Standing motionless in the center of the hallway before them was a figure in a black hooded cloak wearing a silver mask. The permanent, ghastly grin carved into the mask smiled as though mocking them: ridiculing their efforts that had been as vain as a marionette trying to cut its own strings. Somehow, looking into that monstrous, featureless face, they felt the enormity of what they were involved in. The masked figure said nothing, because nothing remained to be said: she had studied them, slowly coaxed them from afar, and now they were caught in her exquisite web.
Slowly, the masked woman raised her hand, holding her upturned palm in front of her. Suddenly, her hand was no longer empty. In it, she held a golden gem-studded idol of a naked woman in a kneeling position. The eyes of the idol stared back at each of the girls, until the weight of its gaze became unbearable. Around them, the hall began to glow blue, radiating light and heat the bore down on them with unsupportable weight. They tried to run, but their feet were fixed to the ground like statues. The masked woman slowly walked towards them, and with every step the weight of the idol’s presence became greater. The three girls fell to their knees, and the world began to spin around them. In their last moments of consciousness, they looked up to see the masked woman looming over each of them, and they felt sure that beneath the mask, she too was smiling. Bathed in the light of the idol, they fell to the ground, and darkness overtook them.
