Kunzite1
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It's time to bring City of Sororities to a close with this, the final chapter. It's been a great time writing this, and it does sadden me to have to end it, but I hope that everyone has enjoyed the story. Thank you to everyone who has been reading, and an extra-special thank you to those people awesome enough to have commented on the chapters. I appreciate the support that I've gotten for this story more than I can say. Thanks again, and enjoy!
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:
Our three heroines have escaped from their captivity at the hands of the shadow elven mistress! With a little help from Sonia from the Sorority of Thieves, Camilla, Maggie, and Mindy have managed to free themselves and now have the mistress on the run. She had fled through a portal that the three heroines have followed her through, but what awaits on the other side?
And now...
City of Sororities - Chapter 8
The sun was setting over Port Bastion, the greatest city in the world. Its many buildings cast long shadows across the twisting, serpentine streets that wound throughout the city. The streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of moving people: in this city that never slept, the tide of people never ended. The taverns filled with those whose day jobs had finished, filling countless drinking establishments with raucous conversation. At the same time, those whose jobs took place after dark prepared for a night’s work. Cutpurses and con-artists set up inconspicuously on the city’s many dark corners, looking for marks. Meanwhile, some of the more advanced members of extra-legal professions, belonging largely to the Sorority of Thieves, donned their black clothing and prepared to redistribute the city’s wealth.
But even this great city had its forgotten corners, where only darkness and silence reigned, far apart from the life’s pulse of the city. Such a place was atop the Port Bastion clock tower: a looming behemoth of black stone which overlooked the city, isolated from the streets far below. Only the occasional mechanic would venture into its maze of cogs and gears to provide it with what little maintenance it needed to remain running. That evening, however, only a small flock of nesting ravens was present to be frightened when a bright flash of light and a gust of wind heralded the sudden appearance of a magical portal.
Out of the portal tumbled three female figures, momentarily disoriented as they got to their feet. The cold night air was a shock to their system, but any discomfort they may have felt was overcome with a great sense of well-being as they recognized where they were at once.
It had only been perhaps a day since they had left it behind, but the homecoming felt as though they had been gone an eternity. The city’s great buildings were spread out before them like the features of an old friend, most of all the majestic Sorority Houses that dominated the face of the city. Camilla’s gaze went to the City Guards’ House: tall and austere with its promises of law and order. Maggie’s eye fixated with gladness on the Explorers’ House: a great stone building with the dignity of an ancient castle. Mindy looked to the towers and spires of the Sages’ House: an ivy-covered academic building as befitted the greatest center of learning in Port Bastion. They were home.
But their homecoming was cut short by the realization that they were not here alone. From out of the elongated shadows of the tower’s arcane architecture stepped the figure that they had chased here: the woman who had tried to escape but knew she would be followed. The shadow elven mistress stepped towards them, the idol in her hand and her gaze unblinkingly set on her three pursuers.
In the warm light of the setting sun, she was even more stunningly beautiful than they had seen her before. The deep orange and red streaming from the horizon reflected off her marble-white skin, imbuing it with a warmth that spoke to the hidden depths of passion within. Her waist-length ebony hair fluttered in the evening air, casting gossamer shadows across the cold stone floor. Her long, sculpted legs strode confidently forward, her bare feet making no sound as they fell upon the stone beneath them. Her tight, miniscule shorts offered a tantalizing glimpse of thighs as the fabric rose and fell with her footsteps. Shadows from the sun’s light accentuated the roundness of her gently heaving breasts, with nipples pressing through the fabric of her top that was so woefully inadequate to contain the ivory treasures they held. She reached up to toss aside a strand of hair, her silver fingernails glittering in the sun, and her finger grazed against a pale white cheek which had perhaps never felt the sun’s caress before in her life. Silver eyes framed with long, full eyelashes bore into the girls with their gaze, and her gently pursed red lips formed into a smile. Everything about her looked even more vivacious and full of life. She was a beautiful anachronism of night in a world of day.
“I hoped you would follow me here,” she said with an enigmatic smile. “I knew you would.”
“You’re not getting away from us!” asserted Camilla, stepping forwards herself. As she did, it dawned on her that they had no real plan of what to do once they encountered their opponent: they had pursued without thinking a foe who had already overpowered them once before. Her only hope was that the idol had not had time to sufficiently recover its power after its recent exertions.
“Who says I want to?” asked the mistress with a coquettish smile. Her tongue moistened her ruby lips seductively. Even this far from her home, she was confidently in control.
But she had a powerful ally, as well. The three girls watched as the mistress opened her palm, and the golden idol slowly began to levitate, summoning its power.
Any hopes that they might have had of finding the idol exhausted were immediately dashed. In an instant they saw the familiar magical glow engulf the towertop, and they felt the spread of that presence which extended beyond time itself. In one moment they were the predators, and suddenly without any intervening time to react they were transformed into the prey as tendrils of light blinked into existence around each of their ankles, hoisting them up into the air.
Suddenly the three girls saw the world invert itself: it seemed as though the entire world had been turned upside-down, and it took them a moment to register that it was them who were now dangling in midair by their ankles, their bare feet up in the air. Camilla’s shapely feet, with high arches toned by running, wiggled next to Maggie’s upturned soles, whose titanic giantess tootsies looked even more enormous next to Mindy’s tiny, petite feet. But despite their differences in appearance, all three pairs of feet shared the common curse of hyperticklishness.
“Help! Help!” shrieked Mindy, who was all too aware of what was going to come next.
“Please not this! Anything but this!” panicked Maggie, whose tender feet had already endured intense tickling torture today. The look on her face was one of sheer terror.
“Stay strong, girls!” rallied Camilla, trying hard to follow her own advice. But she had only a second to mentally prepare herself before the tickling began.
“BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!” All three girls erupted in instant screams of laughter as the magical tendrils gently touched all six feet simultaneously. Thirty toes danced side-by-side, twisting in all directions as the soft arches were prodded. The tendrils expanded into warm, glowing fingertips which stroked the ticklish surfaces, helpless to avoid the lustful assault.
“AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT THEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERRRE!!!” laughed Mindy. Her naturally messy red hair was tussled into complete chaos as she dangled upside-down, her breasts bouncing wildly as she screamed. Her eyeglasses fell from her face and clattered to the stone ground below, followed by tears of laughter that dripped up her face and flew off like raindrops in a storm.
Beside her, Camilla’s equally ticklish feet were enduring the same treatment as long magical fingers scribbled across her soles, held her toes apart, and tickled the soft crevasses in between. She howled and wept with laughter, but her fighter’s spirit would not permit her to give up. She tried to lift herself up to grab at the tendrils holding her ankles, as she had done so many sit-ups toning her body to perfect athletic condition, to get her hands within range of the foe. But Camilla had never done sit-ups while her bare feet were under such a ferocious tickling assault. Every time, before she could even lift herself halfway, she would only collapse into a laughing wreck and swing helplessly, her hands clawing at empty air. It was an infuriating endless cycle, but she would not stop trying.
But Maggie was in the worst shape of all. The idol knew best the mysteries of her soft feet: how to abuse her most tender tickle spots and make her scream for mercy. It pursued them with a sadist’s relish, the tendrils sprouting new fingers all the while so even more of her gargantuan soles could be tickled. They wrapped around her big toes, clamping them together with superhuman strength to leave Maggie’s soles even more motionless and vulnerable.
“PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!!! YAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! HELP MEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!” begged Maggie, swinging upside-down as her delicate tootsies endured the worst that the idol could do to them. Her voluminous laughter seemed to shake the tower itself as she struggled for freedom. But the more flushed her soft feet became, the more sensitive to tickling they were. Maggie’s tenderfoot curse spiraled out of control, driving her further and further into ticklish insanity.
Camilla heard the desperate pleas of her two friends beside her, begging to be released from their ticklish torment. She could feel their inner struggles as though they were her own. On the one side, Mindy’s struggle against her rising libido, forcing back the mortification of being the idol’s plaything, brought to orgasm in front of her friends. On the other hand, Maggie’s wounded pride: the warrior’s ferocity inside her demanding revenge for the indignity of her situation, the need to be seen as the steadfast wall among her friends. No amount of struggling could break the ethereal grip of the idol’s tendrils, but Camilla could not give up. Even though she laughed hysterically as the idol assaulted her ticklish feet without mercy, Camilla’s thoughts were for her friends. She had to save them.
And it was with this decision, this necessity on her shoulders, that Camilla’s resolve focused itself at last into a weapon of awesome power. She could feel her very essence piercing the veil of magic that enshrouded them, and shattering the chains that held them prisoner. Camilla could feel the idol’s innermost desires: its hunger for her body, its thirst for her laughter. And she could fight back. With all her willpower behind her, Camilla gave a mighty push. She could feel a tremor in the fabric of reality itself as the unstoppable force, impossibly, discovered in Camilla its equal. Everything was still, and then there was a great crash as the tendrils that held the three girls shattered like a pane of glass struck with a sledge hammer, and all three girls fell to the floor below.
“No! Impossible!” cried the mistress in disbelief as the girls got to their feet. Never before had she seen her sovereign overpowered, and the sight was terrifying to her.
But there was still more for her to fear. The idol had lost its prizes, but it was not to be denied. It looked around for another victim to feed its appetites, like a feral cat searching for prey. And its roving eye fell upon the only other form on the towertop: the one it had given sanctuary to in return for service. But now, in the heat of its passion, all promises were forgotten. The idol’s tendrils flew from its magical aura at the shadow elven mistress, who stood horrified but unable to protect herself from the onslaught. They wrapped around her body, removing her clothing until she lay suspended in midair: helpless, nude, and knowing the terrible fate that awaited her.
“Please! You can’t do this to me!” cried the mistress, desperately struggling to break the tendrils’ hold. “I served you! I obeyed you!”
Camilla strode up to the suspended figure of the shadow elven mistress with fearless confidence in her eyes. For now she saw the fear in her adversary’s eyes: the terrible knowledge that for the first time, she too was vulnerable. Those impassive features, which before held only calm superiority, trembled in abject terror.
“No!” cried the mistress, as a single bead of sweat formed on her brow like a gleaming jewel. “Please have mercy! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
“The most ticklish race on the Continent,” interjected Mindy. “The shadow elves feared tickling more than any other fate. But it’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it? Shielded by the power of the idol, how long has it been since you were made to laugh?”
“Too long,” answered Camilla with a smile. She turned to those soft white soles whose surfaces faced her so tantalizingly, and sunk her fingers into the soft ticklish flesh of the shadow elven feet.
Each of the girls had thought that they knew what ticklish laughter sounded like. They had heard the screams of ticklish girls as their weak spots had been discovered. But never before had any of them heard anything like this. At the very first touch of Camilla’s fingernails against the mistress’ delicate, wrinkled soles, there was an explosion of insane, animalistic laughter. The wildness of it: the desperation of the laughter spoke to a degree of sensitivity that the three girls could scarcely have imagined possible. At that moment, they truly realized that they were looking at the most ticklish feet in the world.
“YEEEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!! AAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA!!!!!” The laughter filled the tower until it seemed that there was no more room to hold it. Camilla’s fingers acted as the implements of justice, at last giving back to their captor some of what she had inflicted on them. Her fingers ran across the soles that were softer and more tender than any skin Camilla had ever felt in her life. The high arches, the flawlessly smooth heels and soft insteps all surrendered to her touch, causing ticklish agony to the laughing shadow elf. Her head was thrown back and tears streaked down her face as she begged the heavens above for deliverance.
“How does it feel to be the one laughing, for a change?” asked Camilla, looking over her thrashing victim with pleasure. The shadow elven soles were so soft and smooth, Camilla’s fingers slid over them as easily as if they had been covered in oil.
“PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEASSE NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!!!” howled the mistress as she writhed in midair. She could just barely move, but nothing she could do could remove her ticklish feet from their merciless assault. She could only remain in place and suffer the worst punishment her race could endure.
“Yeah! Now let’s see what she thinks of tickling helpless victims!” cheered Mindy as she watched.
“I think she needs to learn even more of a lesson,” smiled Camilla. “Girls, can you help me teach it to her?”
That was the invitation the girls had been waiting for. Both of them leapt eagerly into the fray, ready to take this opportunity to return some of their treatment to their former torturer. Maggie and Mindy took up places before the mistress’ upper body: even more gorgeously stunning in the absence of clothing. Her tapered midsection, her soft sides, and her enormous, luscious breasts all begged to be touched.
Maggie’s fingers, long and very slender for a woman of her stature, could display amazing dexterity when she needed them to. And now more than ever, her pride demanded payback for what she had endured. Her fingertips pressed into the soft, alabaster hollows of the mistress’ underarms, the skin tempting and pulled taut with her arms above her head. The shrieks of ticklish laughter multiplied enormously at the first touch to these hidden treasures, and every muscle in the mistress’ upper body fought furiously to lower her arms and save her ticklish underarms from the assault. But it was no use: Maggie smiled as she enjoyed free reign of these tender regions.
But even sweeter than revenge was the thrill of victory. Maggie’s warrior spirit thrilled to see that face, once so serenely confident, contorted in furious laughter as her fingers walked down her ticklish ribs, squeezing laughter out of them with every step. Those shapely pale hands with their long silver fingernails, which had once been tools of Maggie’s ticklish destruction, now flailed helplessly in the air as the mistress’ arms were manacled by magic. Maggie could still remember what it felt like to have those imposing nails sliding down her own tender soles, devastating in their tickling prowess. And now those fearsome weapons were disarmed, leaving her opponent defenseless. It was the heady rush of conquest.
“BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! PLEEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE HAHAHAHAHAVE MERCEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEE!!!!!” screamed the mistress as Maggie’s nails delved into the depths of her ticklish underarms.
Mindy finally did what she had been longing to do since the first time she had laid eyes upon the stunning form of the mistress. Licking her lips, she took those two perfect breasts into her hands: flawlessly white and smooth as they hung suspended in midair, awaiting her touch. At the first caress Mindy could feel the mistress’ body react with ticklishness and ecstasy, sending a shock of pleasure all throughout. Her gentle pink nipples rose erect in response to Mindy’s touch, running her fingertips softly over the firm, pliant flesh of the trembling breasts. With a gasp of longing, Mindy leaned down to gently tease the sensitive nipples with the tip of her tongue, leaving them glistening with moisture as she ringed around them, licking areolas the color of pink rose petals. Her fingertips worked in concert with her skilled mouth, ravenously drinking up the sweetness.
For Mindy, it was not only revenge she indulged in, but wish fulfillment. She knew her own hypersensitive breasts, so ticklish to the touch that simply fondling them playfully could reduce her to a laughing and extremely aroused mess. When her sorority sisters had tickled her during the girls’ nights at the House, forcing her to submit and beg for mercy, there had always been a part of her that wished she could hold out for more. She instinctively knew how to tap the rumblings of a growing orgasm deep beneath the surface, and coax it upwards into an eruption of sexual passion. And now, she was putting her skills to use.
“OH GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD!!!!! NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!!!!!” cried the mistress, while Mindy’s hands manipulated her round, voluptuous breasts with an expert’s touch.
All the while, Camilla relentlessly tickled the milky-white soles, dancing and writhing in midair without an escape. Tiny and delicate, Camilla could almost feel her own skin tingle as she ran her fingertips across the soft fleshy surfaces. Each of her long, feminine toes splayed apart in ticklish agony, flying in ten different directions as once as they struggled for freedom. These feet had not felt tickling for centuries, perhaps longer: cared for and pampered, their softness had reached levels that human feet could never parallel. And now they were helpless before a swarm of tickling fingers.
“Now do you see what it’s like to be one of your victims?” asked Camilla like an angel of justice. “How many helpless girls have you tickled like this, crying with laughter until they couldn’t take it anymore? How do you think they felt?”
“WAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! KHHEEEAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! WOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!!!” was all the mistress could respond with. Thirty female fingers were working over the most ticklish spots on her body without mercy.
Insane with torture, the mistress could no longer even beg for mercy in coherent words. She desperately babbled incomprehensible syllables, which may have been some ancient arcane language, but more likely the universal language of unbearably ticklish women pushed past rational speech. Meaningless streams of words spilled out amidst screams of hysterical laughter. The girls drank it in like sweet nectar, relishing every scream and howl of hysteria.
They could feel the climax coming, like the first tremors of a massive earthquake. They felt it in their very cores, something beyond normal perception. They tickled faster and more furiously, keeping the mistress’ luscious body at a fever pitch until every muscle in her body tensed and her eyes began to roll back in her head. The fires of lust within her, stoked so long in service of the idol, at last burned in a conflagration of her own sensual ecstasy. With one long unbroken scream, the mistress was tickled over the edge of a momentous orgasm. Not in centuries had she felt what she experienced at that moment, and so great was the intensity that Camilla, Mindy, and Maggie all felt shockwaves of rapture flow out of her. In those glorious moments, she was no longer a warrior or a sorceress, or even mistress of the idol. She was a woman. She came and came like an endless fountain, until at last the pleasure was too much to bear. With a final gasp, the mistress fell unconscious on the stone floor of the tower, her nude body spread out in an embrace, with a smile of the most peaceful innocence and serenity they had ever seen her wear.
Seconds passed, and none of the three girls spoke. Words seemed inadequate to describe what they had all felt together. But at last, Camilla walked over to the mistress’ body and bent down. Next to her was the golden idol. Its magical glow was gone: at last, its ravenous appetite for pleasure had been satiated. A glow of warm satisfaction radiated from it, like a person who had feasted and eaten their fill. It slept now, finally content: the mistress’ ordeal had taken it to its very limits.
“It’s…so small,” said Maggie softly.
Camilla picked up the idol. She could hold it in her hand. This was the source of all their troubles: the thing that had brought them together and taken them through trials that they never could have imagined. It looked so harmless now as she held it.
“What—what should we do with it?” asked Mindy, summoning the courage to approach the idol and place a hand on it herself.
“And with her?” asked Maggie, gesturing at the still sleeping mistress.
“I’m sure she can return underground by herself,” said Camilla. She felt no desire to revenge herself upon the mistress any further. Looking at that face that slept so soundly, it was impossible to feel anything but compassion.
“But the idol needs to be dealt with,” continued Camilla. “It’ll awaken soon, I’m sure. And we can’t let it run unchecked through the streets of Port Bastion when it does.”
“Should we…destroy it?” asked Mindy.
Camilla shook her head. “I know that’s what we were hired to do. But that was before we knew the full story. I don’t think it’s up to us to take sides in a conflict this old. Let the sides involved work it out, but I’m through being used to fight a war that isn’t mine.”
“I’ll get behind that,” said Maggie, while Mindy nodded in approval. “So I suppose that means we should find a safe place to store it while it’s still sleeping?”
Camilla nodded with a knowing smile. “I know just the place.”
Epilogue
The Sorority of Thieves was in a state of utter chaos. Inside, furniture had been upended, locked doors had been torn off their hinges, and bags of loot lay abandoned on the ground as their owners fled in sheer terror. The once-subdued hallways rang with the sounds of running footfalls, panicked shouts, but above all, hysterical laughter.
In nearly every room, girls could be seen suspended in the air, held by glowing tendrils of magical energy which wound their way throughout the sorority house like the tentacles of some monstrous kraken. The tendrils wrapped around their helpless bodies, and ticklish body parts flailed and writhed in every direction as the halls echoes with screams and howls. Those sisters not yet captured made a desperate dash for the exit, but each of the doors were guarded by masses of tendrils which intercepted them, picking up ticklish sorority girls by the dozens to add them to the ranks of the laughing.
Among those girls still at liberty was Sonia, who dashed through the halls of the Thieves’ House with all the speed at her disposal. From time to time she bent down, without breaking stride, to scoop up some discarded valuable another unlucky girl had dropped. Sonia placed these collected objects in a small purse at her side as she ran. No sense in letting them go to waste.
Sonia knew better than to head for the doors. Her only chance to get out of here, she decided, was to head for the south tower of the House. A spiral staircase there led to the tallest point in the House: a single room with a window that overlooked the city. With any luck, she might be able to escape there. Running past rooms full of laughing, half-naked girls, Sonia made a dash for the tower door and began ascending the staircase.
From the steps behind her, Sonia felt a hand grab her ankle desperately. She looked around to see one of her Sorority sisters; she had no time to register who. The girl had tripped and fallen, grabbing on to Sonia’s ankle as a drowning woman might grab onto a lifeboat before being swept out to sea.
“Please! Take me with you!” cried the frightened girl. She tried to get to her feet, but she was clearly too far in the grips of panic to function.
Sonia did not hesitate for a moment. She gave a swift kick with her leg that sent the girl flying off, tumbling down the stairs behind her. Sonia immediately began running up the stairs again, sparing only a glance behind her to see the girl caught in mid-air by a giant, glowing tendril. A second later, screams of hysterical laughter echoed up the staircase as the invader claimed another ticklish victim.
“Sorry, love!” Sonia cried exultantly behind her. “Every girl for herself!”
Sonia reached the top of the staircase, and there was the open window she had sought. It was unguarded just as she had hoped, and beyond it was freedom: the limitless expanse of the rooftops of Port Bastion spread before her. Sonia ran towards it, captured loot in hand, and in a single graceful motion leapt through the portal, her long hair streaming behind her as the cool outside air hit her face like a declaration of victory…
And in mid-air, just as she was passing through the window, Sonia shrieked in terror as she felt something pull her back. A glowing tendril wrapped itself around her midsection and pulled her back inside the building like a fish caught on a line, and Sonia watched helplessly as that window receded further away from her as she was dragged backwards. No! She had been so close!
Now there were more tendrils, wrapping around her legs and ankles so she could not even kick, tying her arms behind her back so her captured loot clattered to the ground. And then came what she had dreaded: two quick motions removed her black boots, leaving a pair of soft, pink feet wiggling in the air. She had barely enough time to cry out in terror before…
“YEEEEAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT THE FEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEET!!!” Sonia, who had never before been captured in the line of duty, had never had her feet tickled like this before. In fact, she had no idea they were even ticklish. But they were insanely so: as her magical tickler ran over Sonia’s smooth arches it seemed to know about soft spots that even Sonia did not know. In seconds Sonia was crying tears of laughter, and the nightmarish assault on her ticklish feet was just beginning.
“WAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA!!! SOMEONE HEHEHEHEHEHELP MEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!” Sonia screamed desperately. Even if she could break free, her nerveless body had no fight left in it. As she laughed hysterically, her bare feet dancing wildly, she could only pray that someone, somewhere, would hear her cries for help and deliver her from this ticklish hell.
Outside on the street, Camilla passed by the Thieves’ House. With the window open, she stopped for a moment to listen to the wild screams of laughter and the sounds of disarray coming from within.
Then she smiled to herself, and walked back home.
- THE END -
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:
Our three heroines have escaped from their captivity at the hands of the shadow elven mistress! With a little help from Sonia from the Sorority of Thieves, Camilla, Maggie, and Mindy have managed to free themselves and now have the mistress on the run. She had fled through a portal that the three heroines have followed her through, but what awaits on the other side?
And now...
City of Sororities - Chapter 8
The sun was setting over Port Bastion, the greatest city in the world. Its many buildings cast long shadows across the twisting, serpentine streets that wound throughout the city. The streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of moving people: in this city that never slept, the tide of people never ended. The taverns filled with those whose day jobs had finished, filling countless drinking establishments with raucous conversation. At the same time, those whose jobs took place after dark prepared for a night’s work. Cutpurses and con-artists set up inconspicuously on the city’s many dark corners, looking for marks. Meanwhile, some of the more advanced members of extra-legal professions, belonging largely to the Sorority of Thieves, donned their black clothing and prepared to redistribute the city’s wealth.
But even this great city had its forgotten corners, where only darkness and silence reigned, far apart from the life’s pulse of the city. Such a place was atop the Port Bastion clock tower: a looming behemoth of black stone which overlooked the city, isolated from the streets far below. Only the occasional mechanic would venture into its maze of cogs and gears to provide it with what little maintenance it needed to remain running. That evening, however, only a small flock of nesting ravens was present to be frightened when a bright flash of light and a gust of wind heralded the sudden appearance of a magical portal.
Out of the portal tumbled three female figures, momentarily disoriented as they got to their feet. The cold night air was a shock to their system, but any discomfort they may have felt was overcome with a great sense of well-being as they recognized where they were at once.
It had only been perhaps a day since they had left it behind, but the homecoming felt as though they had been gone an eternity. The city’s great buildings were spread out before them like the features of an old friend, most of all the majestic Sorority Houses that dominated the face of the city. Camilla’s gaze went to the City Guards’ House: tall and austere with its promises of law and order. Maggie’s eye fixated with gladness on the Explorers’ House: a great stone building with the dignity of an ancient castle. Mindy looked to the towers and spires of the Sages’ House: an ivy-covered academic building as befitted the greatest center of learning in Port Bastion. They were home.
But their homecoming was cut short by the realization that they were not here alone. From out of the elongated shadows of the tower’s arcane architecture stepped the figure that they had chased here: the woman who had tried to escape but knew she would be followed. The shadow elven mistress stepped towards them, the idol in her hand and her gaze unblinkingly set on her three pursuers.
In the warm light of the setting sun, she was even more stunningly beautiful than they had seen her before. The deep orange and red streaming from the horizon reflected off her marble-white skin, imbuing it with a warmth that spoke to the hidden depths of passion within. Her waist-length ebony hair fluttered in the evening air, casting gossamer shadows across the cold stone floor. Her long, sculpted legs strode confidently forward, her bare feet making no sound as they fell upon the stone beneath them. Her tight, miniscule shorts offered a tantalizing glimpse of thighs as the fabric rose and fell with her footsteps. Shadows from the sun’s light accentuated the roundness of her gently heaving breasts, with nipples pressing through the fabric of her top that was so woefully inadequate to contain the ivory treasures they held. She reached up to toss aside a strand of hair, her silver fingernails glittering in the sun, and her finger grazed against a pale white cheek which had perhaps never felt the sun’s caress before in her life. Silver eyes framed with long, full eyelashes bore into the girls with their gaze, and her gently pursed red lips formed into a smile. Everything about her looked even more vivacious and full of life. She was a beautiful anachronism of night in a world of day.
“I hoped you would follow me here,” she said with an enigmatic smile. “I knew you would.”
“You’re not getting away from us!” asserted Camilla, stepping forwards herself. As she did, it dawned on her that they had no real plan of what to do once they encountered their opponent: they had pursued without thinking a foe who had already overpowered them once before. Her only hope was that the idol had not had time to sufficiently recover its power after its recent exertions.
“Who says I want to?” asked the mistress with a coquettish smile. Her tongue moistened her ruby lips seductively. Even this far from her home, she was confidently in control.
But she had a powerful ally, as well. The three girls watched as the mistress opened her palm, and the golden idol slowly began to levitate, summoning its power.
Any hopes that they might have had of finding the idol exhausted were immediately dashed. In an instant they saw the familiar magical glow engulf the towertop, and they felt the spread of that presence which extended beyond time itself. In one moment they were the predators, and suddenly without any intervening time to react they were transformed into the prey as tendrils of light blinked into existence around each of their ankles, hoisting them up into the air.
Suddenly the three girls saw the world invert itself: it seemed as though the entire world had been turned upside-down, and it took them a moment to register that it was them who were now dangling in midair by their ankles, their bare feet up in the air. Camilla’s shapely feet, with high arches toned by running, wiggled next to Maggie’s upturned soles, whose titanic giantess tootsies looked even more enormous next to Mindy’s tiny, petite feet. But despite their differences in appearance, all three pairs of feet shared the common curse of hyperticklishness.
“Help! Help!” shrieked Mindy, who was all too aware of what was going to come next.
“Please not this! Anything but this!” panicked Maggie, whose tender feet had already endured intense tickling torture today. The look on her face was one of sheer terror.
“Stay strong, girls!” rallied Camilla, trying hard to follow her own advice. But she had only a second to mentally prepare herself before the tickling began.
“BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!” All three girls erupted in instant screams of laughter as the magical tendrils gently touched all six feet simultaneously. Thirty toes danced side-by-side, twisting in all directions as the soft arches were prodded. The tendrils expanded into warm, glowing fingertips which stroked the ticklish surfaces, helpless to avoid the lustful assault.
“AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT THEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERRRE!!!” laughed Mindy. Her naturally messy red hair was tussled into complete chaos as she dangled upside-down, her breasts bouncing wildly as she screamed. Her eyeglasses fell from her face and clattered to the stone ground below, followed by tears of laughter that dripped up her face and flew off like raindrops in a storm.
Beside her, Camilla’s equally ticklish feet were enduring the same treatment as long magical fingers scribbled across her soles, held her toes apart, and tickled the soft crevasses in between. She howled and wept with laughter, but her fighter’s spirit would not permit her to give up. She tried to lift herself up to grab at the tendrils holding her ankles, as she had done so many sit-ups toning her body to perfect athletic condition, to get her hands within range of the foe. But Camilla had never done sit-ups while her bare feet were under such a ferocious tickling assault. Every time, before she could even lift herself halfway, she would only collapse into a laughing wreck and swing helplessly, her hands clawing at empty air. It was an infuriating endless cycle, but she would not stop trying.
But Maggie was in the worst shape of all. The idol knew best the mysteries of her soft feet: how to abuse her most tender tickle spots and make her scream for mercy. It pursued them with a sadist’s relish, the tendrils sprouting new fingers all the while so even more of her gargantuan soles could be tickled. They wrapped around her big toes, clamping them together with superhuman strength to leave Maggie’s soles even more motionless and vulnerable.
“PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!!! YAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! HELP MEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!” begged Maggie, swinging upside-down as her delicate tootsies endured the worst that the idol could do to them. Her voluminous laughter seemed to shake the tower itself as she struggled for freedom. But the more flushed her soft feet became, the more sensitive to tickling they were. Maggie’s tenderfoot curse spiraled out of control, driving her further and further into ticklish insanity.
Camilla heard the desperate pleas of her two friends beside her, begging to be released from their ticklish torment. She could feel their inner struggles as though they were her own. On the one side, Mindy’s struggle against her rising libido, forcing back the mortification of being the idol’s plaything, brought to orgasm in front of her friends. On the other hand, Maggie’s wounded pride: the warrior’s ferocity inside her demanding revenge for the indignity of her situation, the need to be seen as the steadfast wall among her friends. No amount of struggling could break the ethereal grip of the idol’s tendrils, but Camilla could not give up. Even though she laughed hysterically as the idol assaulted her ticklish feet without mercy, Camilla’s thoughts were for her friends. She had to save them.
And it was with this decision, this necessity on her shoulders, that Camilla’s resolve focused itself at last into a weapon of awesome power. She could feel her very essence piercing the veil of magic that enshrouded them, and shattering the chains that held them prisoner. Camilla could feel the idol’s innermost desires: its hunger for her body, its thirst for her laughter. And she could fight back. With all her willpower behind her, Camilla gave a mighty push. She could feel a tremor in the fabric of reality itself as the unstoppable force, impossibly, discovered in Camilla its equal. Everything was still, and then there was a great crash as the tendrils that held the three girls shattered like a pane of glass struck with a sledge hammer, and all three girls fell to the floor below.
“No! Impossible!” cried the mistress in disbelief as the girls got to their feet. Never before had she seen her sovereign overpowered, and the sight was terrifying to her.
But there was still more for her to fear. The idol had lost its prizes, but it was not to be denied. It looked around for another victim to feed its appetites, like a feral cat searching for prey. And its roving eye fell upon the only other form on the towertop: the one it had given sanctuary to in return for service. But now, in the heat of its passion, all promises were forgotten. The idol’s tendrils flew from its magical aura at the shadow elven mistress, who stood horrified but unable to protect herself from the onslaught. They wrapped around her body, removing her clothing until she lay suspended in midair: helpless, nude, and knowing the terrible fate that awaited her.
“Please! You can’t do this to me!” cried the mistress, desperately struggling to break the tendrils’ hold. “I served you! I obeyed you!”
Camilla strode up to the suspended figure of the shadow elven mistress with fearless confidence in her eyes. For now she saw the fear in her adversary’s eyes: the terrible knowledge that for the first time, she too was vulnerable. Those impassive features, which before held only calm superiority, trembled in abject terror.
“No!” cried the mistress, as a single bead of sweat formed on her brow like a gleaming jewel. “Please have mercy! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
“The most ticklish race on the Continent,” interjected Mindy. “The shadow elves feared tickling more than any other fate. But it’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it? Shielded by the power of the idol, how long has it been since you were made to laugh?”
“Too long,” answered Camilla with a smile. She turned to those soft white soles whose surfaces faced her so tantalizingly, and sunk her fingers into the soft ticklish flesh of the shadow elven feet.
Each of the girls had thought that they knew what ticklish laughter sounded like. They had heard the screams of ticklish girls as their weak spots had been discovered. But never before had any of them heard anything like this. At the very first touch of Camilla’s fingernails against the mistress’ delicate, wrinkled soles, there was an explosion of insane, animalistic laughter. The wildness of it: the desperation of the laughter spoke to a degree of sensitivity that the three girls could scarcely have imagined possible. At that moment, they truly realized that they were looking at the most ticklish feet in the world.
“YEEEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!! AAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA!!!!!” The laughter filled the tower until it seemed that there was no more room to hold it. Camilla’s fingers acted as the implements of justice, at last giving back to their captor some of what she had inflicted on them. Her fingers ran across the soles that were softer and more tender than any skin Camilla had ever felt in her life. The high arches, the flawlessly smooth heels and soft insteps all surrendered to her touch, causing ticklish agony to the laughing shadow elf. Her head was thrown back and tears streaked down her face as she begged the heavens above for deliverance.
“How does it feel to be the one laughing, for a change?” asked Camilla, looking over her thrashing victim with pleasure. The shadow elven soles were so soft and smooth, Camilla’s fingers slid over them as easily as if they had been covered in oil.
“PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEASSE NOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!!!” howled the mistress as she writhed in midair. She could just barely move, but nothing she could do could remove her ticklish feet from their merciless assault. She could only remain in place and suffer the worst punishment her race could endure.
“Yeah! Now let’s see what she thinks of tickling helpless victims!” cheered Mindy as she watched.
“I think she needs to learn even more of a lesson,” smiled Camilla. “Girls, can you help me teach it to her?”
That was the invitation the girls had been waiting for. Both of them leapt eagerly into the fray, ready to take this opportunity to return some of their treatment to their former torturer. Maggie and Mindy took up places before the mistress’ upper body: even more gorgeously stunning in the absence of clothing. Her tapered midsection, her soft sides, and her enormous, luscious breasts all begged to be touched.
Maggie’s fingers, long and very slender for a woman of her stature, could display amazing dexterity when she needed them to. And now more than ever, her pride demanded payback for what she had endured. Her fingertips pressed into the soft, alabaster hollows of the mistress’ underarms, the skin tempting and pulled taut with her arms above her head. The shrieks of ticklish laughter multiplied enormously at the first touch to these hidden treasures, and every muscle in the mistress’ upper body fought furiously to lower her arms and save her ticklish underarms from the assault. But it was no use: Maggie smiled as she enjoyed free reign of these tender regions.
But even sweeter than revenge was the thrill of victory. Maggie’s warrior spirit thrilled to see that face, once so serenely confident, contorted in furious laughter as her fingers walked down her ticklish ribs, squeezing laughter out of them with every step. Those shapely pale hands with their long silver fingernails, which had once been tools of Maggie’s ticklish destruction, now flailed helplessly in the air as the mistress’ arms were manacled by magic. Maggie could still remember what it felt like to have those imposing nails sliding down her own tender soles, devastating in their tickling prowess. And now those fearsome weapons were disarmed, leaving her opponent defenseless. It was the heady rush of conquest.
“BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! PLEEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE HAHAHAHAHAVE MERCEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEE!!!!!” screamed the mistress as Maggie’s nails delved into the depths of her ticklish underarms.
Mindy finally did what she had been longing to do since the first time she had laid eyes upon the stunning form of the mistress. Licking her lips, she took those two perfect breasts into her hands: flawlessly white and smooth as they hung suspended in midair, awaiting her touch. At the first caress Mindy could feel the mistress’ body react with ticklishness and ecstasy, sending a shock of pleasure all throughout. Her gentle pink nipples rose erect in response to Mindy’s touch, running her fingertips softly over the firm, pliant flesh of the trembling breasts. With a gasp of longing, Mindy leaned down to gently tease the sensitive nipples with the tip of her tongue, leaving them glistening with moisture as she ringed around them, licking areolas the color of pink rose petals. Her fingertips worked in concert with her skilled mouth, ravenously drinking up the sweetness.
For Mindy, it was not only revenge she indulged in, but wish fulfillment. She knew her own hypersensitive breasts, so ticklish to the touch that simply fondling them playfully could reduce her to a laughing and extremely aroused mess. When her sorority sisters had tickled her during the girls’ nights at the House, forcing her to submit and beg for mercy, there had always been a part of her that wished she could hold out for more. She instinctively knew how to tap the rumblings of a growing orgasm deep beneath the surface, and coax it upwards into an eruption of sexual passion. And now, she was putting her skills to use.
“OH GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD!!!!! NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!!!!!” cried the mistress, while Mindy’s hands manipulated her round, voluptuous breasts with an expert’s touch.
All the while, Camilla relentlessly tickled the milky-white soles, dancing and writhing in midair without an escape. Tiny and delicate, Camilla could almost feel her own skin tingle as she ran her fingertips across the soft fleshy surfaces. Each of her long, feminine toes splayed apart in ticklish agony, flying in ten different directions as once as they struggled for freedom. These feet had not felt tickling for centuries, perhaps longer: cared for and pampered, their softness had reached levels that human feet could never parallel. And now they were helpless before a swarm of tickling fingers.
“Now do you see what it’s like to be one of your victims?” asked Camilla like an angel of justice. “How many helpless girls have you tickled like this, crying with laughter until they couldn’t take it anymore? How do you think they felt?”
“WAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! KHHEEEAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! WOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!!!!” was all the mistress could respond with. Thirty female fingers were working over the most ticklish spots on her body without mercy.
Insane with torture, the mistress could no longer even beg for mercy in coherent words. She desperately babbled incomprehensible syllables, which may have been some ancient arcane language, but more likely the universal language of unbearably ticklish women pushed past rational speech. Meaningless streams of words spilled out amidst screams of hysterical laughter. The girls drank it in like sweet nectar, relishing every scream and howl of hysteria.
They could feel the climax coming, like the first tremors of a massive earthquake. They felt it in their very cores, something beyond normal perception. They tickled faster and more furiously, keeping the mistress’ luscious body at a fever pitch until every muscle in her body tensed and her eyes began to roll back in her head. The fires of lust within her, stoked so long in service of the idol, at last burned in a conflagration of her own sensual ecstasy. With one long unbroken scream, the mistress was tickled over the edge of a momentous orgasm. Not in centuries had she felt what she experienced at that moment, and so great was the intensity that Camilla, Mindy, and Maggie all felt shockwaves of rapture flow out of her. In those glorious moments, she was no longer a warrior or a sorceress, or even mistress of the idol. She was a woman. She came and came like an endless fountain, until at last the pleasure was too much to bear. With a final gasp, the mistress fell unconscious on the stone floor of the tower, her nude body spread out in an embrace, with a smile of the most peaceful innocence and serenity they had ever seen her wear.
Seconds passed, and none of the three girls spoke. Words seemed inadequate to describe what they had all felt together. But at last, Camilla walked over to the mistress’ body and bent down. Next to her was the golden idol. Its magical glow was gone: at last, its ravenous appetite for pleasure had been satiated. A glow of warm satisfaction radiated from it, like a person who had feasted and eaten their fill. It slept now, finally content: the mistress’ ordeal had taken it to its very limits.
“It’s…so small,” said Maggie softly.
Camilla picked up the idol. She could hold it in her hand. This was the source of all their troubles: the thing that had brought them together and taken them through trials that they never could have imagined. It looked so harmless now as she held it.
“What—what should we do with it?” asked Mindy, summoning the courage to approach the idol and place a hand on it herself.
“And with her?” asked Maggie, gesturing at the still sleeping mistress.
“I’m sure she can return underground by herself,” said Camilla. She felt no desire to revenge herself upon the mistress any further. Looking at that face that slept so soundly, it was impossible to feel anything but compassion.
“But the idol needs to be dealt with,” continued Camilla. “It’ll awaken soon, I’m sure. And we can’t let it run unchecked through the streets of Port Bastion when it does.”
“Should we…destroy it?” asked Mindy.
Camilla shook her head. “I know that’s what we were hired to do. But that was before we knew the full story. I don’t think it’s up to us to take sides in a conflict this old. Let the sides involved work it out, but I’m through being used to fight a war that isn’t mine.”
“I’ll get behind that,” said Maggie, while Mindy nodded in approval. “So I suppose that means we should find a safe place to store it while it’s still sleeping?”
Camilla nodded with a knowing smile. “I know just the place.”
Epilogue
The Sorority of Thieves was in a state of utter chaos. Inside, furniture had been upended, locked doors had been torn off their hinges, and bags of loot lay abandoned on the ground as their owners fled in sheer terror. The once-subdued hallways rang with the sounds of running footfalls, panicked shouts, but above all, hysterical laughter.
In nearly every room, girls could be seen suspended in the air, held by glowing tendrils of magical energy which wound their way throughout the sorority house like the tentacles of some monstrous kraken. The tendrils wrapped around their helpless bodies, and ticklish body parts flailed and writhed in every direction as the halls echoes with screams and howls. Those sisters not yet captured made a desperate dash for the exit, but each of the doors were guarded by masses of tendrils which intercepted them, picking up ticklish sorority girls by the dozens to add them to the ranks of the laughing.
Among those girls still at liberty was Sonia, who dashed through the halls of the Thieves’ House with all the speed at her disposal. From time to time she bent down, without breaking stride, to scoop up some discarded valuable another unlucky girl had dropped. Sonia placed these collected objects in a small purse at her side as she ran. No sense in letting them go to waste.
Sonia knew better than to head for the doors. Her only chance to get out of here, she decided, was to head for the south tower of the House. A spiral staircase there led to the tallest point in the House: a single room with a window that overlooked the city. With any luck, she might be able to escape there. Running past rooms full of laughing, half-naked girls, Sonia made a dash for the tower door and began ascending the staircase.
From the steps behind her, Sonia felt a hand grab her ankle desperately. She looked around to see one of her Sorority sisters; she had no time to register who. The girl had tripped and fallen, grabbing on to Sonia’s ankle as a drowning woman might grab onto a lifeboat before being swept out to sea.
“Please! Take me with you!” cried the frightened girl. She tried to get to her feet, but she was clearly too far in the grips of panic to function.
Sonia did not hesitate for a moment. She gave a swift kick with her leg that sent the girl flying off, tumbling down the stairs behind her. Sonia immediately began running up the stairs again, sparing only a glance behind her to see the girl caught in mid-air by a giant, glowing tendril. A second later, screams of hysterical laughter echoed up the staircase as the invader claimed another ticklish victim.
“Sorry, love!” Sonia cried exultantly behind her. “Every girl for herself!”
Sonia reached the top of the staircase, and there was the open window she had sought. It was unguarded just as she had hoped, and beyond it was freedom: the limitless expanse of the rooftops of Port Bastion spread before her. Sonia ran towards it, captured loot in hand, and in a single graceful motion leapt through the portal, her long hair streaming behind her as the cool outside air hit her face like a declaration of victory…
And in mid-air, just as she was passing through the window, Sonia shrieked in terror as she felt something pull her back. A glowing tendril wrapped itself around her midsection and pulled her back inside the building like a fish caught on a line, and Sonia watched helplessly as that window receded further away from her as she was dragged backwards. No! She had been so close!
Now there were more tendrils, wrapping around her legs and ankles so she could not even kick, tying her arms behind her back so her captured loot clattered to the ground. And then came what she had dreaded: two quick motions removed her black boots, leaving a pair of soft, pink feet wiggling in the air. She had barely enough time to cry out in terror before…
“YEEEEAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT THE FEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEET!!!” Sonia, who had never before been captured in the line of duty, had never had her feet tickled like this before. In fact, she had no idea they were even ticklish. But they were insanely so: as her magical tickler ran over Sonia’s smooth arches it seemed to know about soft spots that even Sonia did not know. In seconds Sonia was crying tears of laughter, and the nightmarish assault on her ticklish feet was just beginning.
“WAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA!!! SOMEONE HEHEHEHEHEHELP MEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!” Sonia screamed desperately. Even if she could break free, her nerveless body had no fight left in it. As she laughed hysterically, her bare feet dancing wildly, she could only pray that someone, somewhere, would hear her cries for help and deliver her from this ticklish hell.
Outside on the street, Camilla passed by the Thieves’ House. With the window open, she stopped for a moment to listen to the wild screams of laughter and the sounds of disarray coming from within.
Then she smiled to herself, and walked back home.
- THE END -
