Darque Omens
Phillip awoke to the sound of his cell door being opened violently by a pair of Trolls. They did not say anything to him and despite his efforts to resist, the hulking creatures dragged him from his cell and into the corridor.
There was no use resisting as they were far stronger than he was. Since they had not elected to rend him to shreds with their iron claws, he figured they had no intention to kill him for the time being. He limped along watching his surroundings and trying to make a mental map of his surroundings, should he somehow discover a way to be free of his captors.
He was in a castle. Further south of the Wyldlands. Probably the Southlands he decided judging from the ancient style of the architecture. If it was the Southlands, and the Darque had conquered them, he was most probably in King Tepik's castle in the port of Tlekic. The Southlanders were a proud and brave people. They would not give up their homeland without a fight.
If the Southlands had fallen to the Darque so soon, what hope was there for his homeland?
They took him to a some private quarters that appeared to have been adapted to be a makeshift interrogation room.
There already was a woman in the room placed barefoot in a set of stocks that appeared to be made of solid obsidian. She sat on the obsidian with her feet before her and her hands next to each of her feet. The stone wrapped neatly around wrist and ankle.
She was young and proud and of dark Southlander skin and hair. She was certainly of the Southlander nobility. She had an air of sophistication that seemed to separate her from the rest and as he entered she seemed to ignore him as if someone of lower caste had entered the room.
Her soles were long and delicate and he admired them briefly as he was dragged closer to her. The fact that she was held barefoot in the stocks as a prisoner must be especially humiliating for one such as her, he decided, so he tried to politely look away although he found them quite seemly and attractive.
Next to her was a strange statue of what appeared to be a huge man carved out of obsidian. The Trolls forced Phillip before the statue. It glowed briefly and it began to change shape until it wrapped around Phillip's hands and ankles and became an identical set of stocks like those the Southlander was trapped in.
He tested the stocks but they were strong as well as secure. The stone felt warm and it was smooth and snug against his skin. It was as if the statue was alive. The Trolls pulled off his boots and the stocks magically shrunk to hold his ankles tightly in place. He tried to free himself but to no avail.
“Don't bother,” the Southlander said to him with a thick accent and a taint of authority. “They are magical constructs meant for special ceremonies of our High Priests. My ancestors built them centuries ago to be indestructible. You will not escape by force alone. Of that you can be certain.”
The Trolls shrugged showing little interest in the conversation and they left the two prisoners alone.
“I am Phillip of the Summerland, Ranger of the Royal Army,” he said to the Southlander. “If there is a way to escape we must do so quickly.”
The woman did not respond and only frowned going back to ignoring him as before as if he had somehow convinced her he was not worthy of her attentions. Phillip discovered why soon enough.
A woman in dark robes stepped out behind a dressing screen. She was the one who had captured Phillip. Of that he was certain.
“Curious what one can learn from just listening instead of interrogating,” she said in a voice that confirmed his suspicions. Her face was barely visible, but her hands and her neck were of a pale white complexion.
“I will tell you nothing of Summerland or of its defences,” Phillip vowed.
“By the time I'm done with you,” the woman vowed, “you will beg to tell me anything I wish to know. Not that it matters, though. We know enough regarding Summerland to assure you that it will not last a week against the legions of the Darque. We have no interest in what you can tell us about Summerland.”
“Why am I still alive?” Phillip asked coldly. “I've killed many of your numbers.”
“Exactly because you slew many of our numbers, you have been spared. Scores of inferior Trollans you slew. They are hairy brutes, but nonetheless they are members of the Darque,” she explained. “The Darque bears a grudge against resisters. And I like to make examples of them. I'd have attended to you earlier, but my services have been required in other places. I had you sent here on the wings of a Darque Dragon so I might attend to you and another special prisoner at the same time.
“X'mena,” she said gesturing to the Southlander, “is daughter of King Tepik of the Southlands and is another such resister. She has refused to bow down to the Darque and take her place as Serf of the Darque. I tell her that she will know comfort and pleasure that will make Tepik seem like a miserable pauper. I tell her that the slaughter in her streets and villages will cease and that all can go back to normal. She need only yield.”
X'mena's eyes flashed angrily at the dark robed woman. The woman's face was proud and her dark brown eyes seemed to contain fire.
“Yet she refuses,” the black robed woman drew her fingers up and down X'mena's soles and the princess's angry and proud face instantly vanished as she began to laugh a deep and sensual laugh that aroused Phillip despite his best efforts to curb his excitement.
“She is quite ticklish,” the woman said teasingly. “More than you I would say, and that is something to say, I think.”
X'mena bared her teeth in anger as her tormentor limited herself to simply maintaining a finger motionless on her sole. She breathed heavily and anxiously.
“There is nothing like tickling the ticklish,” the woman said. “There is a sense of dominance and a sense of total helplessness that is so sensual and so perfect.” She moved her finger a quarter of the way up the sole and X'mena screeched and tried to contain herself.
“I like to tease, and I like to torture as well,” she said before scratching the soles of both feet systemically and ruthlessly. X'mena exploded into laughter and her feet shook desperately trying to escape the fingers in a futile attempt to minimize the tickling sensation. The tickling was perfectly executed. Phillip could not have done better himself and in his mind he secretly wished he could be tickling those helpless feet.
“I see you admire my technique and your fellow prisoner's feet,” the woman mentioned noticing how Phillip watched intently. “Could it be that you are like me and you enjoy to torture those who cannot resist the skilled touch?”
The woman continued to touch the bare sole of the Southlander digging in deeper with her nails. X'mena screamed and she immediately jumped in the stocks and laughed out loud deeply and beautifully. She continued to tickle the prisoner until X'mena was completely breathless.
Phillip was ashamed at how such simple tickling had aroused him given the circumstances and kept silent.
“Your mate must enjoy your attentions, I'm certain,” their captor said. “Her kind are always sensitive and they savor the attentions one like you can offer.”
“What do you mean by her kind?” Phillip asked with anger at the mention of his wife.
“Don't be angry,” the woman said softly and sensually drawing near him so he could see inside her hood. The face was a beautiful white with rosy cheeks framed in locks of light blond hair. She had a young innocent look that did not seem to have much to do with the Darque. Her red lips parted and she smiled before whispering to him: “Be happy.”
She drew her nails along the sole of Phillip's left foot and it was as if electricity coursed through her fingers and into his body. His face twisted by anger softened instantly and he began to laugh loud and heartily. Her touch was as perfect as that of Damaris. She pressed neither too hard nor too softly and she was deliberate in every nuance of her touch. She traced his soles with her expert fingers and she tickled between his toes for extra effect making him shiver and scream under her touch.
“I love your laughter and your helplessness,” she said lusciously. “I will make you my lover to spite your mate. Her scent is all over you, but it will not be long before mine penetrates you to the very core of your being.”
“I'll never betray Damaris and I do not know what you mean by her scent,” Phillip said defiantly.
“She never told you?” she asked surprised. “She is a deceptive one, your precious Damaris.”
“We of the Darque may be deceptive as well, but we never lie,” she said.
“What a terrible host!” she exclaimed. “I have neglected my introduction. I am Orphea of the Darque. I am a lieutenant of the Darque and my specialty is making our enemies soft and docile for our purposes.
“X'mena has been in my care long enough,” she said. “She has been a difficult one. It is time to see if all my attentions have born fruit.”
Orphea touched the black obsidian construct and it released X'mena's wrists and ankles.
“Step out now,” Orphea commanded, “and stand still until I give you my next order.”
X'mena tried to be disobey the command, but she could not resist the order and she stepped out of the stocks standing before Orphea.
“She cannot resist my verbal command,” Orphea said. “After some time with me, you will not be able to resist either. She is a slave of the Darque. Certainly she is still defiant, but with time she will come to accept my dominion over her. And one day, not so far away, she will come to cherish my presence.
“She is a fitting ruler of these lands,” Orphea added, “She will keep her people in check so the Darque may move on to conquer other lands such as your own. But for now, she will do as I say. Kneel down before the Summerlander.”
X'mena was shocked at the command but she could not disobey.
She knelt before Phillip and his feet lingered near her face. She looked down and her face was dark in shame.
“Now, tickle the Summerlander's feet,” Orphea commanded.
She slowly raised her hands and placed them upon his bare feet before beginning to run her nails up and down. She was simply obeying the command and the tickling was far from what Damaris or Orphea could do to him, but he laughed and twisted in the stocks and even acted a bit extra ticklish hoping to fool Orphea.
“You liar,” Orphea said see through his deception. “You pretend. Do you think you could fool me with your false laughter? Would you be fooled?
“And you?” she said turning to X'mena. “You tickle with so little passion. I will teach you both a lesson you will not soon forget.”
Orphea touched X'mena's forehead and it glowed briefly before a thin silver stand was drawn from her forehead by her fingertips and she touched Phillip's forehead. The silver strand glowed and then disappeared.
“You're linked now,” Orphea said. “THIS is tickling,” she said before she reached out and tickled X'mena's ribcage with sharp nails. Phillip instantly felt as if the fingers were on his own ribs and he tried to resist but his rough grunting and gritting of his teeth was useless. It was incredible, but he was laughing without a single finger or feather being laid upon him.
X'mena did not fight back and Orphea seemed to know how to handle her very well. Within moments, she had her on the ground hogtied and tickled along her torso concentrating on ribs and underarms. X'mena laughed with no reservations. The laughter of the two prisoners was loud and could probably be heard all over the castle.
Orphea tickled X'mena's bare feet and Phillip's feet tensed as if the fingers were on his soles. He could hear X'mena's desperate laughter. What expert fingers, he thought. What perfect and dangerous touch she has.
Orphea did not grow bored nor did she tire. She was truly as passionate about the act of tickling as both Phillip and Damaris. Probably much more so.
Orphea finally stopped.
“That is enough for now,” she said. “The Darque needs me elsewhere. But we will continue this conversation later.
“Feed the prisoner,” Orphea commanded X'mena. “It will still be some days before he like you becomes a slave of the Darque. When you have fed him, go to my quarters and await my return.”
Orphea left and X'mena composed herself and silently went for food in the room and prepared something for Phillip to eat.
“Can you free me from this obsidian prison?” Phillip asked.
“Yes, there is a way,” X'mena answered. “But I will not free you. I have been commanded not to. Even if you were freed, you would not be able to take me with you since I have been commanded to return. My will is no longer mine,” she said sadly.
“I'm not hungry,” Phillip said turning away from the food she offered him.
“I do not feed you because I care about your well being,” she said. “I've been commanded to do so, so you mind as well take advantage of it.”
Phillip nodded and ate. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
“You have a pretty laugh,” Phillip said as she fed him trying to make conversation. “I mean no disrespect,” he added hastily.
X'mena's face first flushed with anger but it quickly softened as she realized he was being sincere.
“I am the most ticklish of King Tepik's daughters,” she said openly. “I was not deemed a good princess. My rival sisters were jealous of my beauty and they tickled me often so it would seem I could never keep a straight face during rituals. They only had to suggest they were going to tickle me and I would fidget in my place bringing the fury of my elders upon me. I was popular with my father, but I did not have influence among the elders to guarantee a good place in our court.
“Now, they are all dead or dying, while I survive precisely because of my ticklishness,” she became somber and she spoke in a muted tone.
“I'm sorry,” Phillip said empathetically. “I held off a whole legion of Trolls alone thinking I was sacrificing myself for the well being of my comrades. And now here I am alive while they may be dead or dying as we speak. I think we both owe it to our people to escape and make the best of our predicament.”
X'mena wiped some rogue tears from her eyes and she became cold and distant again. She had finished feeding Phillip and she silently collected the plates and set them aside. She was about to leave, but she returned briefly to speak with Phillip.
“Tonight, when all grows still and quiet, do not sleep,” X'mena said urgently. “It is your only hope. Keep alert and do not doze off. I'll see what I can do when they are not watching me.”
* * * * *
Phillip's eyes were heavy with sweat and the hot humid air of the Southlands made him even more weary. He was tired from the tickling at Orpeha's hands and on several occasions in the evening he fell into a hopeless fits of laughter as he felt invisible fingers tracing all over his body. They were torturing X'mena and he felt the attentions on his body as well.
He felt sorry for X'mena because as Orphea said she was more ticklish than he and he could barely keep himself conscious during the ordeal.
He tried to follow Ximena's advice and keep awake, but his heavy eyes finally shut despite his best efforts and he slept.
He awoke to tickling on his feet.
Orphea was at his feet tickling them playfully.
She had cast off her dark robes and her body below was a creamy white. She had full soft breasts and tempting curves. At her navel there was a dark stone. It only made her more sensual. Her light blond hair made her look especially beautiful.
She did not say anything. She touched the obsidian stocks and they came to life. Phillip found his hands being pulled over his head and he was placed on his back. He remained totally at her mercy.
She climbed on top of him and simply pressed her body against his starting with her face at his navel. Her long hair traced his belly lightly and he needed all his willpower to keep from laughing out loud. She continued up his body with her hard erect nipples touching his torso and making a ticklish path all the way up his chest as she finally straddled him.
He silently wondered if she was ticklish, and he immediately cursed himself for such thoughts.
“You could find out,” Orphea said her breasts hanging heavily over his face. “If you became a servant of the Darque you could have this body for your own. To do with as you wish.”
“No, never,” he whispered.
Orphea shrugged. “You are mine anyway.” She pulled Phillip's erect manhood from his belly and she slid upon it like a sheath slipping neatly onto its sword.
“What a nice fit,” she said smiling and twisting upon Phillip forcing him to moan against his will.
Phillip tried to resist as much as he could. He would not give this woman the satisfaction of making him climax.
He knew he could resist. He was certain.
She rose up and down on him following a rhythm Phillip knew all too well would lead to only one thing. His certainty faded as she expertly dominated his body and his will. She had him; she controlled him despite all his hatred for the Darque. She was not a hairy Troll or a scaled Dragon. She was beautiful and soft and warm, and she touched him in all the right ways.
Phillip tried to reason and tried to find a way to turn things around and get this evil woman off of him.
She seemed to read his mind and as he gathered the resolve to resist, she reached down and tickled his arm pits. He laughed against his will and lost all concentration. At that moment she pressed her lips against his in a violent hot and wet kiss. Much to his despair he returned the kiss with equal relish. From there it took only a few well placed thrusts and he screamed out in release as he climaxed into her.
Orphea laughed with him as she dismounted.
She stepped away.
Phillip shed tears as he thought of Damaris. He would have preferred to have died in battle than to have betrayed her.
“You are a delicious man, Phillip,” Orphea said licking her red lips. “I can see why your Damaris is so taken by you. The first time is the hardest. The next will be easier and easier until one day when you will beg me to make love to you. That day you will be as much of the Darque as I am.”
Phillip was heartbroken. He knew he was no longer the same man. He wondered if he would ever be himself again.
“Cheer up,” Orphea said tickling his feet before she left.
“You ARE no longer the same man, Phillip,” she said reading his mind once again. “You're a better man now. Believe me. And when you surrender to the Darque it will be your fingers tickling on my body and it will be I obeying you. Does that not sound tempting, lover?”
Phillip cursed between his lips.
He could not deny it.
It was more tempting than he'd ever care to admit.
* * * * *
The days went by and it did become easier. He'd endure tickle assault after tickle assault all day long and he'd try his best to keep awake. Then when he'd sleep, she would come and he would rise as if he would give her a salute. She'd take her time but she's always mount him and she'd always tickle until he climaxed with a shout born of laughter.
He came to enjoy her visits and he was hating himself more and more because of it.
“When you can no longer hate yourself more,” Orphea said one night, “then you will be ready for the Darque. Then you can have me and you can lead our legions to glory.”
Several days had gone by and he had not seen X'mena. Other slaves who refused to speak with Phillip, fed and bathed him.
He knew from the frequent tickling sensations that X'men was tortured often. That could only mean that she continued to resist. That was the only consolation of the frequent and unexpected attacks.
One evening she appeared through a secret passage.
“I told you not to sleep,” she chided him as she entered. “She is a temptress and she will eat away at you until there is nothing left of Phillip and only the Darque is left. She controls my mind and my body but my spirit is still my own. I fear for you, Phillip.”
“Can you help me escape?” Phillip asked. Every day he remained put his soul at greater risk.
“No,” X'mena replied. “I can tell you a secret though. The obsidian bonds are indestructible. No brute force will release you of them. However, the high priests who forged them made a failsafe. There is a way to release yourself from them.”
She placed a small obsidian stone in his hand.
“Keep this hidden. Tonight, when the time is right, tap the following sequence on the obsidian and it will free you.” She tapped a long musical sequence with her fingers on the obsidian above his trapped feet. Phillip listened intently.
“I know all the secret passages of this castle,” X'mena said. “I will leave arrows in the passage leading to my quarters. I will take a sleeping draught tonight. Enough to put to sleep a lion. You must take me with you. I cannot consciously escape. I've left supplies and weapons outside my quarters. More than that, I cannot do. We are linked you and I. There is no hope for just one of us. Both must escape or not at all.
“Will you do this?”
Phillip nodded. “You have my word.”
“That will have to be good enough,” she said. “Remember. You do not do this for me or for you. You do not do this for your country or your comrades. You must do it for your beloved or you will not be able to do it at all.”
“I've failed her,” Phillip said bitterly.
“You only fail her if the Darque wins,” X'mena said. “Fate has chosen us and the Darque has bound us together. We must work together to escape or all is for naught!”
“Do not wait,” she added before disappearing through the secret passage. “Tonight!”
* * * * *
Night came and Phillip thought about what X'mena had said and thought about escape.
He thought to escape earlier, but he knew that he had a better chance escaping if he neutralized his enemy before departing.
He waited and closed his eyes. But this time he waited not as prey, but rather as predator.
Orphea soon entered the room. She removed her gown and robe as she had on many an occasion done and she approached him.
He knew she was there. Her could smell her perfume and he could hear her breathing. He heard her bare feet pad softly on the ground and felt her fingertips finally take to his soles.
Her tickling was enough to trigger him now and his manhood was erect in an instant. She smiled with satisfaction at the reaction.
“I see you're glad to see me,” Orphea said as she drew near.
Let her come, he thought, let her come closer.
“I think I'm going to tease you tonight,” she said straddling him. “I feel you are closer than ever to the Darque.”
“You have no idea,” Phillip said raising his head invitingly contrary to other visits. She smiled and pressed her body against his and began to kiss him. He returned the kiss much to her surprise and and she allowed herself to enjoy the passionate kiss. That would be her undoing.
Phillip tapped the sequence that X'mena had told him. He did so softly and calmly. It was long and he had only heard it once, but he was clever with such complex sequences and did not doubt for a moment as he tapped it out.
The stocks silently released him, but Orphea did not notice as she continued to kiss Phillip with the same lustful passion with her eyes closed in bliss.
If he had a dagger he would have plunged it in between her ribs and into her heart. But he did not have a dagger, so he used the next best thing.
His fingers dug deep into her ribcage.
The reaction was immediate. Orphea gasped for air desperately and she broke into helpless thrashing and silent laughter. Phillip was shocked at such a perfect reaction and he pushed home his advantage. He tickled her savagely as if his very life depended upon it.
She was very ticklish. More than he could ever have hoped. He was stronger than her and he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand while he went with his fingers to her bare underarms. She was just as ticklish or more so there and she struggled with all her might to escape. Phillip held nothing back and with his beard stubble of several days he rubbed tortuously against her neck stimulating still more the ticklish nerves of the demon. Her ears were next and he nibbled upon them with revenge and not lust on his mind.
She was a storm of flailing legs and bucking hips but Phillip held on as he might a wild boar knowing that if he let her go it would be the end of him.
She laughed and screamed herself hoarse and he watched her face turn red as she seemed to have difficulty to breathe. After several minutes it seemed she was too tired to move.
Phillip stepped away for a moment and watched in surprise as the obsidian giant wrapped around Orphea's ankles and wrists and holding her tight. She was now the one trapped.
Phillip gagged her with the silken belt of her gown.
“I'm letting you live,” he said pulling on his clothes and boots. “If only so that you may report your humiliating defeat and give your masters a message.
“Your kind feeds off of fear,” he continued. “You thrive off of it. Well, listen and listen well. I am not afraid anymore. And if I have my way, soon no man, woman or child will fear you anymore. They'll laugh. Just like you do now.”
He tickled her feet. Beautiful, sensual feet they were. He had only to scratch the sole to send her in desperate gales of laughter. He attacked the soles with a vengeance and he tickled her toes with relish.
Her laughter and screams were muffled with the gag and Phillip did not stop his attentions to her feet until her face was a covered with her sweat drenched hair and her only response to the tickling was a sickly murmur.
Phillip opened the secret passage X'mena had opened and cool soothing air touched his hot and sticky face.
He closed his eyes for a moment and thought of Damaris. A smile crept on his face and he felt refreshed and ready for anything.
He stepped into the darkness of the passage carefully closing the door behind him.
To be continued...
Next: Damaris Returns
Phillip awoke to the sound of his cell door being opened violently by a pair of Trolls. They did not say anything to him and despite his efforts to resist, the hulking creatures dragged him from his cell and into the corridor.
There was no use resisting as they were far stronger than he was. Since they had not elected to rend him to shreds with their iron claws, he figured they had no intention to kill him for the time being. He limped along watching his surroundings and trying to make a mental map of his surroundings, should he somehow discover a way to be free of his captors.
He was in a castle. Further south of the Wyldlands. Probably the Southlands he decided judging from the ancient style of the architecture. If it was the Southlands, and the Darque had conquered them, he was most probably in King Tepik's castle in the port of Tlekic. The Southlanders were a proud and brave people. They would not give up their homeland without a fight.
If the Southlands had fallen to the Darque so soon, what hope was there for his homeland?
They took him to a some private quarters that appeared to have been adapted to be a makeshift interrogation room.
There already was a woman in the room placed barefoot in a set of stocks that appeared to be made of solid obsidian. She sat on the obsidian with her feet before her and her hands next to each of her feet. The stone wrapped neatly around wrist and ankle.
She was young and proud and of dark Southlander skin and hair. She was certainly of the Southlander nobility. She had an air of sophistication that seemed to separate her from the rest and as he entered she seemed to ignore him as if someone of lower caste had entered the room.
Her soles were long and delicate and he admired them briefly as he was dragged closer to her. The fact that she was held barefoot in the stocks as a prisoner must be especially humiliating for one such as her, he decided, so he tried to politely look away although he found them quite seemly and attractive.
Next to her was a strange statue of what appeared to be a huge man carved out of obsidian. The Trolls forced Phillip before the statue. It glowed briefly and it began to change shape until it wrapped around Phillip's hands and ankles and became an identical set of stocks like those the Southlander was trapped in.
He tested the stocks but they were strong as well as secure. The stone felt warm and it was smooth and snug against his skin. It was as if the statue was alive. The Trolls pulled off his boots and the stocks magically shrunk to hold his ankles tightly in place. He tried to free himself but to no avail.
“Don't bother,” the Southlander said to him with a thick accent and a taint of authority. “They are magical constructs meant for special ceremonies of our High Priests. My ancestors built them centuries ago to be indestructible. You will not escape by force alone. Of that you can be certain.”
The Trolls shrugged showing little interest in the conversation and they left the two prisoners alone.
“I am Phillip of the Summerland, Ranger of the Royal Army,” he said to the Southlander. “If there is a way to escape we must do so quickly.”
The woman did not respond and only frowned going back to ignoring him as before as if he had somehow convinced her he was not worthy of her attentions. Phillip discovered why soon enough.
A woman in dark robes stepped out behind a dressing screen. She was the one who had captured Phillip. Of that he was certain.
“Curious what one can learn from just listening instead of interrogating,” she said in a voice that confirmed his suspicions. Her face was barely visible, but her hands and her neck were of a pale white complexion.
“I will tell you nothing of Summerland or of its defences,” Phillip vowed.
“By the time I'm done with you,” the woman vowed, “you will beg to tell me anything I wish to know. Not that it matters, though. We know enough regarding Summerland to assure you that it will not last a week against the legions of the Darque. We have no interest in what you can tell us about Summerland.”
“Why am I still alive?” Phillip asked coldly. “I've killed many of your numbers.”
“Exactly because you slew many of our numbers, you have been spared. Scores of inferior Trollans you slew. They are hairy brutes, but nonetheless they are members of the Darque,” she explained. “The Darque bears a grudge against resisters. And I like to make examples of them. I'd have attended to you earlier, but my services have been required in other places. I had you sent here on the wings of a Darque Dragon so I might attend to you and another special prisoner at the same time.
“X'mena,” she said gesturing to the Southlander, “is daughter of King Tepik of the Southlands and is another such resister. She has refused to bow down to the Darque and take her place as Serf of the Darque. I tell her that she will know comfort and pleasure that will make Tepik seem like a miserable pauper. I tell her that the slaughter in her streets and villages will cease and that all can go back to normal. She need only yield.”
X'mena's eyes flashed angrily at the dark robed woman. The woman's face was proud and her dark brown eyes seemed to contain fire.
“Yet she refuses,” the black robed woman drew her fingers up and down X'mena's soles and the princess's angry and proud face instantly vanished as she began to laugh a deep and sensual laugh that aroused Phillip despite his best efforts to curb his excitement.
“She is quite ticklish,” the woman said teasingly. “More than you I would say, and that is something to say, I think.”
X'mena bared her teeth in anger as her tormentor limited herself to simply maintaining a finger motionless on her sole. She breathed heavily and anxiously.
“There is nothing like tickling the ticklish,” the woman said. “There is a sense of dominance and a sense of total helplessness that is so sensual and so perfect.” She moved her finger a quarter of the way up the sole and X'mena screeched and tried to contain herself.
“I like to tease, and I like to torture as well,” she said before scratching the soles of both feet systemically and ruthlessly. X'mena exploded into laughter and her feet shook desperately trying to escape the fingers in a futile attempt to minimize the tickling sensation. The tickling was perfectly executed. Phillip could not have done better himself and in his mind he secretly wished he could be tickling those helpless feet.
“I see you admire my technique and your fellow prisoner's feet,” the woman mentioned noticing how Phillip watched intently. “Could it be that you are like me and you enjoy to torture those who cannot resist the skilled touch?”
The woman continued to touch the bare sole of the Southlander digging in deeper with her nails. X'mena screamed and she immediately jumped in the stocks and laughed out loud deeply and beautifully. She continued to tickle the prisoner until X'mena was completely breathless.
Phillip was ashamed at how such simple tickling had aroused him given the circumstances and kept silent.
“Your mate must enjoy your attentions, I'm certain,” their captor said. “Her kind are always sensitive and they savor the attentions one like you can offer.”
“What do you mean by her kind?” Phillip asked with anger at the mention of his wife.
“Don't be angry,” the woman said softly and sensually drawing near him so he could see inside her hood. The face was a beautiful white with rosy cheeks framed in locks of light blond hair. She had a young innocent look that did not seem to have much to do with the Darque. Her red lips parted and she smiled before whispering to him: “Be happy.”
She drew her nails along the sole of Phillip's left foot and it was as if electricity coursed through her fingers and into his body. His face twisted by anger softened instantly and he began to laugh loud and heartily. Her touch was as perfect as that of Damaris. She pressed neither too hard nor too softly and she was deliberate in every nuance of her touch. She traced his soles with her expert fingers and she tickled between his toes for extra effect making him shiver and scream under her touch.
“I love your laughter and your helplessness,” she said lusciously. “I will make you my lover to spite your mate. Her scent is all over you, but it will not be long before mine penetrates you to the very core of your being.”
“I'll never betray Damaris and I do not know what you mean by her scent,” Phillip said defiantly.
“She never told you?” she asked surprised. “She is a deceptive one, your precious Damaris.”
“We of the Darque may be deceptive as well, but we never lie,” she said.
“What a terrible host!” she exclaimed. “I have neglected my introduction. I am Orphea of the Darque. I am a lieutenant of the Darque and my specialty is making our enemies soft and docile for our purposes.
“X'mena has been in my care long enough,” she said. “She has been a difficult one. It is time to see if all my attentions have born fruit.”
Orphea touched the black obsidian construct and it released X'mena's wrists and ankles.
“Step out now,” Orphea commanded, “and stand still until I give you my next order.”
X'mena tried to be disobey the command, but she could not resist the order and she stepped out of the stocks standing before Orphea.
“She cannot resist my verbal command,” Orphea said. “After some time with me, you will not be able to resist either. She is a slave of the Darque. Certainly she is still defiant, but with time she will come to accept my dominion over her. And one day, not so far away, she will come to cherish my presence.
“She is a fitting ruler of these lands,” Orphea added, “She will keep her people in check so the Darque may move on to conquer other lands such as your own. But for now, she will do as I say. Kneel down before the Summerlander.”
X'mena was shocked at the command but she could not disobey.
She knelt before Phillip and his feet lingered near her face. She looked down and her face was dark in shame.
“Now, tickle the Summerlander's feet,” Orphea commanded.
She slowly raised her hands and placed them upon his bare feet before beginning to run her nails up and down. She was simply obeying the command and the tickling was far from what Damaris or Orphea could do to him, but he laughed and twisted in the stocks and even acted a bit extra ticklish hoping to fool Orphea.
“You liar,” Orphea said see through his deception. “You pretend. Do you think you could fool me with your false laughter? Would you be fooled?
“And you?” she said turning to X'mena. “You tickle with so little passion. I will teach you both a lesson you will not soon forget.”
Orphea touched X'mena's forehead and it glowed briefly before a thin silver stand was drawn from her forehead by her fingertips and she touched Phillip's forehead. The silver strand glowed and then disappeared.
“You're linked now,” Orphea said. “THIS is tickling,” she said before she reached out and tickled X'mena's ribcage with sharp nails. Phillip instantly felt as if the fingers were on his own ribs and he tried to resist but his rough grunting and gritting of his teeth was useless. It was incredible, but he was laughing without a single finger or feather being laid upon him.
X'mena did not fight back and Orphea seemed to know how to handle her very well. Within moments, she had her on the ground hogtied and tickled along her torso concentrating on ribs and underarms. X'mena laughed with no reservations. The laughter of the two prisoners was loud and could probably be heard all over the castle.
Orphea tickled X'mena's bare feet and Phillip's feet tensed as if the fingers were on his soles. He could hear X'mena's desperate laughter. What expert fingers, he thought. What perfect and dangerous touch she has.
Orphea did not grow bored nor did she tire. She was truly as passionate about the act of tickling as both Phillip and Damaris. Probably much more so.
Orphea finally stopped.
“That is enough for now,” she said. “The Darque needs me elsewhere. But we will continue this conversation later.
“Feed the prisoner,” Orphea commanded X'mena. “It will still be some days before he like you becomes a slave of the Darque. When you have fed him, go to my quarters and await my return.”
Orphea left and X'mena composed herself and silently went for food in the room and prepared something for Phillip to eat.
“Can you free me from this obsidian prison?” Phillip asked.
“Yes, there is a way,” X'mena answered. “But I will not free you. I have been commanded not to. Even if you were freed, you would not be able to take me with you since I have been commanded to return. My will is no longer mine,” she said sadly.
“I'm not hungry,” Phillip said turning away from the food she offered him.
“I do not feed you because I care about your well being,” she said. “I've been commanded to do so, so you mind as well take advantage of it.”
Phillip nodded and ate. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
“You have a pretty laugh,” Phillip said as she fed him trying to make conversation. “I mean no disrespect,” he added hastily.
X'mena's face first flushed with anger but it quickly softened as she realized he was being sincere.
“I am the most ticklish of King Tepik's daughters,” she said openly. “I was not deemed a good princess. My rival sisters were jealous of my beauty and they tickled me often so it would seem I could never keep a straight face during rituals. They only had to suggest they were going to tickle me and I would fidget in my place bringing the fury of my elders upon me. I was popular with my father, but I did not have influence among the elders to guarantee a good place in our court.
“Now, they are all dead or dying, while I survive precisely because of my ticklishness,” she became somber and she spoke in a muted tone.
“I'm sorry,” Phillip said empathetically. “I held off a whole legion of Trolls alone thinking I was sacrificing myself for the well being of my comrades. And now here I am alive while they may be dead or dying as we speak. I think we both owe it to our people to escape and make the best of our predicament.”
X'mena wiped some rogue tears from her eyes and she became cold and distant again. She had finished feeding Phillip and she silently collected the plates and set them aside. She was about to leave, but she returned briefly to speak with Phillip.
“Tonight, when all grows still and quiet, do not sleep,” X'mena said urgently. “It is your only hope. Keep alert and do not doze off. I'll see what I can do when they are not watching me.”
* * * * *
Phillip's eyes were heavy with sweat and the hot humid air of the Southlands made him even more weary. He was tired from the tickling at Orpeha's hands and on several occasions in the evening he fell into a hopeless fits of laughter as he felt invisible fingers tracing all over his body. They were torturing X'mena and he felt the attentions on his body as well.
He felt sorry for X'mena because as Orphea said she was more ticklish than he and he could barely keep himself conscious during the ordeal.
He tried to follow Ximena's advice and keep awake, but his heavy eyes finally shut despite his best efforts and he slept.
He awoke to tickling on his feet.
Orphea was at his feet tickling them playfully.
She had cast off her dark robes and her body below was a creamy white. She had full soft breasts and tempting curves. At her navel there was a dark stone. It only made her more sensual. Her light blond hair made her look especially beautiful.
She did not say anything. She touched the obsidian stocks and they came to life. Phillip found his hands being pulled over his head and he was placed on his back. He remained totally at her mercy.
She climbed on top of him and simply pressed her body against his starting with her face at his navel. Her long hair traced his belly lightly and he needed all his willpower to keep from laughing out loud. She continued up his body with her hard erect nipples touching his torso and making a ticklish path all the way up his chest as she finally straddled him.
He silently wondered if she was ticklish, and he immediately cursed himself for such thoughts.
“You could find out,” Orphea said her breasts hanging heavily over his face. “If you became a servant of the Darque you could have this body for your own. To do with as you wish.”
“No, never,” he whispered.
Orphea shrugged. “You are mine anyway.” She pulled Phillip's erect manhood from his belly and she slid upon it like a sheath slipping neatly onto its sword.
“What a nice fit,” she said smiling and twisting upon Phillip forcing him to moan against his will.
Phillip tried to resist as much as he could. He would not give this woman the satisfaction of making him climax.
He knew he could resist. He was certain.
She rose up and down on him following a rhythm Phillip knew all too well would lead to only one thing. His certainty faded as she expertly dominated his body and his will. She had him; she controlled him despite all his hatred for the Darque. She was not a hairy Troll or a scaled Dragon. She was beautiful and soft and warm, and she touched him in all the right ways.
Phillip tried to reason and tried to find a way to turn things around and get this evil woman off of him.
She seemed to read his mind and as he gathered the resolve to resist, she reached down and tickled his arm pits. He laughed against his will and lost all concentration. At that moment she pressed her lips against his in a violent hot and wet kiss. Much to his despair he returned the kiss with equal relish. From there it took only a few well placed thrusts and he screamed out in release as he climaxed into her.
Orphea laughed with him as she dismounted.
She stepped away.
Phillip shed tears as he thought of Damaris. He would have preferred to have died in battle than to have betrayed her.
“You are a delicious man, Phillip,” Orphea said licking her red lips. “I can see why your Damaris is so taken by you. The first time is the hardest. The next will be easier and easier until one day when you will beg me to make love to you. That day you will be as much of the Darque as I am.”
Phillip was heartbroken. He knew he was no longer the same man. He wondered if he would ever be himself again.
“Cheer up,” Orphea said tickling his feet before she left.
“You ARE no longer the same man, Phillip,” she said reading his mind once again. “You're a better man now. Believe me. And when you surrender to the Darque it will be your fingers tickling on my body and it will be I obeying you. Does that not sound tempting, lover?”
Phillip cursed between his lips.
He could not deny it.
It was more tempting than he'd ever care to admit.
* * * * *
The days went by and it did become easier. He'd endure tickle assault after tickle assault all day long and he'd try his best to keep awake. Then when he'd sleep, she would come and he would rise as if he would give her a salute. She'd take her time but she's always mount him and she'd always tickle until he climaxed with a shout born of laughter.
He came to enjoy her visits and he was hating himself more and more because of it.
“When you can no longer hate yourself more,” Orphea said one night, “then you will be ready for the Darque. Then you can have me and you can lead our legions to glory.”
Several days had gone by and he had not seen X'mena. Other slaves who refused to speak with Phillip, fed and bathed him.
He knew from the frequent tickling sensations that X'men was tortured often. That could only mean that she continued to resist. That was the only consolation of the frequent and unexpected attacks.
One evening she appeared through a secret passage.
“I told you not to sleep,” she chided him as she entered. “She is a temptress and she will eat away at you until there is nothing left of Phillip and only the Darque is left. She controls my mind and my body but my spirit is still my own. I fear for you, Phillip.”
“Can you help me escape?” Phillip asked. Every day he remained put his soul at greater risk.
“No,” X'mena replied. “I can tell you a secret though. The obsidian bonds are indestructible. No brute force will release you of them. However, the high priests who forged them made a failsafe. There is a way to release yourself from them.”
She placed a small obsidian stone in his hand.
“Keep this hidden. Tonight, when the time is right, tap the following sequence on the obsidian and it will free you.” She tapped a long musical sequence with her fingers on the obsidian above his trapped feet. Phillip listened intently.
“I know all the secret passages of this castle,” X'mena said. “I will leave arrows in the passage leading to my quarters. I will take a sleeping draught tonight. Enough to put to sleep a lion. You must take me with you. I cannot consciously escape. I've left supplies and weapons outside my quarters. More than that, I cannot do. We are linked you and I. There is no hope for just one of us. Both must escape or not at all.
“Will you do this?”
Phillip nodded. “You have my word.”
“That will have to be good enough,” she said. “Remember. You do not do this for me or for you. You do not do this for your country or your comrades. You must do it for your beloved or you will not be able to do it at all.”
“I've failed her,” Phillip said bitterly.
“You only fail her if the Darque wins,” X'mena said. “Fate has chosen us and the Darque has bound us together. We must work together to escape or all is for naught!”
“Do not wait,” she added before disappearing through the secret passage. “Tonight!”
* * * * *
Night came and Phillip thought about what X'mena had said and thought about escape.
He thought to escape earlier, but he knew that he had a better chance escaping if he neutralized his enemy before departing.
He waited and closed his eyes. But this time he waited not as prey, but rather as predator.
Orphea soon entered the room. She removed her gown and robe as she had on many an occasion done and she approached him.
He knew she was there. Her could smell her perfume and he could hear her breathing. He heard her bare feet pad softly on the ground and felt her fingertips finally take to his soles.
Her tickling was enough to trigger him now and his manhood was erect in an instant. She smiled with satisfaction at the reaction.
“I see you're glad to see me,” Orphea said as she drew near.
Let her come, he thought, let her come closer.
“I think I'm going to tease you tonight,” she said straddling him. “I feel you are closer than ever to the Darque.”
“You have no idea,” Phillip said raising his head invitingly contrary to other visits. She smiled and pressed her body against his and began to kiss him. He returned the kiss much to her surprise and and she allowed herself to enjoy the passionate kiss. That would be her undoing.
Phillip tapped the sequence that X'mena had told him. He did so softly and calmly. It was long and he had only heard it once, but he was clever with such complex sequences and did not doubt for a moment as he tapped it out.
The stocks silently released him, but Orphea did not notice as she continued to kiss Phillip with the same lustful passion with her eyes closed in bliss.
If he had a dagger he would have plunged it in between her ribs and into her heart. But he did not have a dagger, so he used the next best thing.
His fingers dug deep into her ribcage.
The reaction was immediate. Orphea gasped for air desperately and she broke into helpless thrashing and silent laughter. Phillip was shocked at such a perfect reaction and he pushed home his advantage. He tickled her savagely as if his very life depended upon it.
She was very ticklish. More than he could ever have hoped. He was stronger than her and he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand while he went with his fingers to her bare underarms. She was just as ticklish or more so there and she struggled with all her might to escape. Phillip held nothing back and with his beard stubble of several days he rubbed tortuously against her neck stimulating still more the ticklish nerves of the demon. Her ears were next and he nibbled upon them with revenge and not lust on his mind.
She was a storm of flailing legs and bucking hips but Phillip held on as he might a wild boar knowing that if he let her go it would be the end of him.
She laughed and screamed herself hoarse and he watched her face turn red as she seemed to have difficulty to breathe. After several minutes it seemed she was too tired to move.
Phillip stepped away for a moment and watched in surprise as the obsidian giant wrapped around Orphea's ankles and wrists and holding her tight. She was now the one trapped.
Phillip gagged her with the silken belt of her gown.
“I'm letting you live,” he said pulling on his clothes and boots. “If only so that you may report your humiliating defeat and give your masters a message.
“Your kind feeds off of fear,” he continued. “You thrive off of it. Well, listen and listen well. I am not afraid anymore. And if I have my way, soon no man, woman or child will fear you anymore. They'll laugh. Just like you do now.”
He tickled her feet. Beautiful, sensual feet they were. He had only to scratch the sole to send her in desperate gales of laughter. He attacked the soles with a vengeance and he tickled her toes with relish.
Her laughter and screams were muffled with the gag and Phillip did not stop his attentions to her feet until her face was a covered with her sweat drenched hair and her only response to the tickling was a sickly murmur.
Phillip opened the secret passage X'mena had opened and cool soothing air touched his hot and sticky face.
He closed his eyes for a moment and thought of Damaris. A smile crept on his face and he felt refreshed and ready for anything.
He stepped into the darkness of the passage carefully closing the door behind him.
To be continued...
Next: Damaris Returns
