Hello, this is the first part in a mini-series I've been working on. The idea was actually proposed to me last year, but my initial attempts at it didn't come out in a way I was satisfied with. Combine that with a change in my life situation that meant I didn't have much energy nor inclination to get much writing done, and it ended up getting shelved until recently.
As implied by the title, this is a follow up to an earlier story of mine: Just Desserts (F/F, Multiple F/F, intense, long). I'd recommending going back to check that one first if you need any reminds on who the various characters are.
Part 3: Just Desserts 3: Where Nightmares Come True(FF/FF)
Part 4: Just Desserts 4: Well Deserved Punishment (FFF/FF)
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“Prisoner revolt, my ass. That bitch backstabbed us,†Gwyneth muttered to herself. She scowled with displeasure while double checking the situation through her binoculars. As much as she enjoyed the sights of people being tortured under normal circumstances, seeing one of her own sisters on the receiving end was decidedly unpleasant. The tree she’d found overlooking the decrepit mansion gave her the perfect vantage point for peering in through the master bedroom’s window. Seeing her sister Mikelle screaming her head off with laughter from a pair of women going to town tickling her naked body made the rare opportunity at voyeurism anything but enjoyable.
Even with the heavy blindfold over her eyes and the ball-gag in her mouth, it was difficult for Gwyneth to mistake the woman tied to the bed for anyone else. There weren’t exactly many humans or demons that had a combination of shoulder length platinum-silver hair and white feathered wings sprouting out of their backs. Gwyneth’s tree was too far away to hear anything, but she’d visited her sister’s hell of smiles and laughter enough to know that the bound woman was undoubtedly laughing as hard as her lungs would allow from her tormentors spidering their fingers all across her stomach and raking combs in between her toes.
At least one of her sister’s ticklers was someone Gwyneth recognized. Iofiel, the nominal master of this hell, was kneeling in a black semi-transparent nighty on the side of the bed attacking Mikelle’s vulnerable upper body. Her sculpted face, none the less beautiful than any of Kammotas the Cruel’s other demonic torturers’, was twisted in sadistic delight as her slim fingers alternated between rapidly squeezing up and down the length of her victim’s sides and lightly dancing the tips all over her flat stomach. Black feathers that had undoubtedly come from the wings sprouting out of her back were dancing across Mikelle’s rock hard nipples, wide open pussy, and inside her armpits in an assault Gwyneth was aware her sister loved to apply to her own victims.
The other woman was a mystery to the red-haired demon. It certainly didn’t help that she had her back turned to the window. All she could make out was that the woman had wavy strawberry blonde hair that fell a little past her shoulder blades and was butt naked, giving Gwyneth a good view of her sizable D-cup breasts, tight waist, and long legs. The way the woman was using one hand to hold Mikelle’s feet still so the other could alternate between sawing a comb across the base of her toes and dragging it across the vulnerable webbings in between gave the impression to Gwyneth that Mikelle would’ve been proud of her technique. The red-haired demon’s toes weren’t nearly half as ticklish as her sister’s, but just the sight of how cruelly the woman was targeting the spot made her subconsciously clench her toes in sympathy.
Though instead of immediately rushing off to save her sister, Gwyneth pulled out her phone to make a call. “Boss, it’s me.â€
“Gwyneth! Do you have any updates?†A voice resembling an approaching rockslide came from the receiver. Kammotas the Cruel was the devil responsible for creating Gwyneth, her sisters, and Iofiel. For day to day operations he functioned as something akin to their boss, being the one responsible for winning the sisters contracts on souls to torment and making certain the hells they ran weren’t running into any difficulties. It was under his orders that Gwyneth, Mikelle, and Seraphina had all come to Iofiel’s dimension, albeit for different reasons.
Kammotas had given a briefing on the situation before she’d headed out. Seraphina had gone on a business trip to Iofiel’s hell of trapping its captives in literal living nightmares. It’d taken an oddly long time for her to get back so Mikelle, who’d had some free time on her hands, dropped by to check on her. It was only after both of the sisters had disappeared that Kammotas received word that a prison break had occurred.
“Bad news, Boss. It turns out Iofiel’s prisoners didn’t stage a revolt like we thought. That bitch is workin’ with ‘em!â€
“Language, Gwyneth,†Kammotas scolded.
“Sorry. Anyways, I got eyes on ‘em having nabbed Mikelle. Iofiel’s ticklin’ the crap out of her with some strawberry broad. No sign of Sera. I’m assumin’ she’s bein’ held elsewhere.â€
“I see. Iofiel has never shown much of an interest in tickling as a form of punishment before. I suspect she’s somehow discovered your weaknesses. Make haste in saving them. The situation is worse than I’d feared.â€
“Can do, Boss,†Gwyneth answered before hanging up. She’d been thinking the same thing, though she didn’t mind getting the boss’ opinion. A design flaw the three of them shared as creations of Kammotas the Cruel was that they grew more susceptible to forms of suffering the more skilled they grew with inflicting them. Gwyneth had an astute sense of pain, Seraphina an erotic body that would become aroused at the slightest touch, and Mikelle was so ticklish that even a complete novice could reduce her to hysterics within minutes. The idea that Iofiel may have discovered her cousins’ weaknesses and was proving willing to share that knowledge with others had her concerned.
Hopping off the tree, Gwyneth darted across the ground leading to the mansion. She mentally thanked whatever gods would bother to listen to a demon like her that Iofiel had gone for the aesthetic of having her base of operation be a decrepit, potentially-haunted-looking old mansion. Plenty of the windows had been smashed open for the sake of making the place appear appropriately creepy. All the red-haired demon had to do was hop through the nearest one to gain entry. From there, it was easy to follow Mikelle’s frenzied peals of laughter up several flights of stairs to where she was being held.
Easy, that is, up until she suddenly found herself traveling back down the staircase she'd just been climbing. “The hell…?†Gwyneth muttered to herself in confusion. A quick glance around confirmed that she was on the same staircase traveling up to the fourth floor as before. Turning around, she started climbing again only to experience the exact same thing. She’d get roughly halfway up the staircase only to be walking down it a moment later without any idea how the change had been made. Realization dawned on her after a few more attempts.
“They set up a barrier!†she exclaimed. The angelic-winged woman pulled her hair in frustration. Anything related to magic had always been a weakness of hers. Unlike Seraphina or Mikelle, she had never been any good at identifying what sort of magic was being used and was even worse at any process of deconstructing them past hitting it until it went away. “What’s even goin’ on here? Is it spinnin’ me around? Am I getting teleported? Mind controlled into walking back? Argh! I can’t tell what’s going on!â€
After several minutes of wracking her brain with accompanying attempts to force her way through, Gwynth had to admit defeat. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of what was keeping her from making progress. No amount of poking around led to another staircase going up.
If there was any silver lining to the situation, Mikelle’s laughter had stopped during her attempts at getting up the stairs. Gwyneth heard a door open and quickly hid herself around a nearby corner. The sound of footsteps mixed with grunted curses clued her in to peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the women passing across the top of the staircase. A pair of humans, presumably former inmates judging by the black and white striped prisoner uniforms they wore, were carrying an unconscious Mikelle between them. Gwyneth had mixed feelings watching them pass from her hiding spot. On the plus side, this meant they weren’t torturing Mikelle anymore. On the other hand, she didn’t like the idea that she hadn’t been able to do anything to prevent them from tickle torturing her little sister until she’d passed out.
But it wasn’t like she was in any better position to help now that they’d stopped. Wherever they were taking Mikelle, it happened to still be on the opposite side of this confounding barrier. Taking some solace in knowing that Mikelle wasn’t being made to suffer at this exact moment, she turned around to begin searching through the nearby corridors. Her only hope now was that the security around Seraphina was laxer. ‘Sera would know what’s going on. She’s always been good at this sort of thing,’ the angelic-winged demon thought to herself.
Searching through the mansion wasn’t as certain a process as Gwyneth would’ve liked. Iofiel’s mansion was able to create an infinite number of new rooms to cater to the nightmares of whatever prisoners were brought in, but it didn’t necessarily change the floor layout to match. Opening a door greeted the fiery red-haired demon with the sight of a pit that stretched infinitely down into the darkness. Closing and reopening it revealed that it now led to muck encrusted sewers barely wide enough for a person to crawl through or a giant spider’s web ruled over by a titanic black widow spider so large that she had to crane her head back as far as she could to catch a glimpse of its underbelly. Gwyneth couldn’t even begin to figure out how to determine where a door would lead to next, so the only thing she could do was open every one a couple times to see where they led to next before moving onto the next.
“StohoHOHOP! Dahamn you, stohohop! LEHEHET MEHE gohohoHOHO!†The sounds of a woman shouting demands in between bouts of laughter became audible the moment the red-haired demon turned the handle on a door several corridors later. Cracking it open just enough to peer inside, any further was impossible thanks to a chain lock, revealed a bedroom where a pair of women had her older sister Seraphina bound to a queen size four poster bed. Seraphina’s wrists had been handcuffed together above her head with the chain threaded through some slots in the headboard to prevent her from pulling her arms down. Her legs were forced to point towards the ceiling in a V shape by a pair of ropes around her ankles stretching out to the corners of the headboard while a belt wrapping around the entire mattress kept her waist firmly anchored to the bed. Her tormentors, another pair of convicts wearing badly shredded black and white striped uniforms that showed plenty of exposed skin underneath, were taking advantage of the beautiful demon’s helplessness to gang tickle her.
“What’s wrong? Not gonna cum? The boss said you were a slut who’d get off if I just rubbed your tits a little,†taunted one of the convicts. The seductive African woman was kneeling on the side of the bed using her nails to skitter all over Seraphina’s jiggling melons. She alternated between teasingly dragging her nails all around the tops, flicking her nails against the demon’s swollen nipples, and rapidly tapping up and down the undersides, all while leering with unconcealed lust at how her victim’s struggling would make her massive globes shake, jiggle, and bounce.
“Maybe we’re not doing it enough. I think we should go faster. You know, get in even more stimulation,†teased the other. Standing at the foot of the bed was a small Indonesian woman. Her fingers were scrabbling all over Seraphina’s wiggling, defenseless soles. Her attack was much less coordinated than her counterpart’s. Fingers flailed around at any bit of skin they could reach rather than attempting to focus on any sensitive spots she managed to hit. More often than not, her victim’s attempts at wiggling her soles out of the way ended up proving to be effective at preventing her nails from finding purchase, but what the small woman lacked in technique she made up for with single minded cruelty. Seraphina was clearly growing tired. Each bout of wiggling to escape the fingers grew shorter than the last while the amount of time she needed to rest grew longer. The tanned-skinned woman was quick to punish every second of rest by sending her nails scrabbling all over her soles.
“FUHUHUCK youhehehEHAHAHAHA!†Seraphina screamed. Their combined assault was forcing her to cackle with laughter. Her entire body shook from the ticklish sensations surging through her, her hips bucking against the belt holding her down with all their might.
“Look at how turned on she’s getting. She must really want it!†taunted the Indonesian woman. Even with how much Seraphina hated being tickled, it was impossible for her to prevent herself from getting turned on feeling the touch on her breasts and feet. Her sopping wet pussy hadn’t gone unnoticed by the women toying with her. In fact, that seemed to be what they were looking for. As Gwyneth watched, the Indonesian convict stopped tickling to grab a studded dildo lying on the bed. She pushed it into Seraphina’s open pussy where she started gently stirring it around inside her.
“Ah! AH! Fuck! Fuck! FuhuckhehEHEHAHAHA! STohohoP! STOHOHOP ithehAHAHHOHOHOHO!†Seraphina barely had enough time to gasp before breaking out laughing again. Noticing her partner going for a more sexual approach, the ebony-skinned convict had changed targets to Seraphina’s exposed armpits. Her fingers had pressed down into the depths of her pits to vigorously shake around. The Indonesian woman was careful to keep the dildo play just gentle enough that the intense armpit tickling overwhelmed whatever pleasure their victim could get out of it. Their coordinated assault on her body reduced Seraphina to hysterics. Her head shook from side to side while she screamed with laughter from the agony of being kept on the edge of an orgasm while one of her worst spots was mercilessly tickled.
A loud cracking sound interrupted them from continuing their cruel games. Gwyneth had gotten fed up enough with watching her sister be tortured to forgo a more stealthy attempt at slipping into the room in favor of kicking the door hard enough to rip the chain right out of the doorframe. Both convicts looked back with surprise just in time to see an angel-winged demon charging into the room at them. The Indonesian convict didn’t even have enough time to completely turn around to face her before a flying roundhouse kick caught her in the side of the head.
This was one of the times Gwyneth was glad she worked with the souls of the dead. Her hell of blades and brass knuckles had given her plenty of experience with the fact that they wouldn’t die a second time no matter how hard she hit them. Even as her kick caused her target’s head to snap to the side hard enough to break her neck from the whiplash, she was confident that it wouldn’t do much more than knock her out. The force of the kick sent the woman flying off to the side where she collapsed into a heap.
Her attack unfortunately also sent Gwyneth spilling onto the ground herself, unable to land properly after connecting with the kick. The African convict seized the opportunity to scramble off the bed while the demon was still picking herself up. She launched herself at the demon in a barrage of punches that forced Gwyneth to backpedal away.
All the while, information was flowing into Gwyneth’s head. Solar Plexus. Ribcage. Knee. She ducked under one of the convict’s wild swings to bury her fist into the side of her ribcage and was rewarded with her opponent staggering to the side with a cry of pain. What she lacked in magical aptitude, Gwyneth made up for with a supernatural understanding of where a person’s weak spots were. She knew just the right places to hit any given person in just the right ways to cause the maximum amount of pain simply by laying eyes on them. Her fist lashed out in a short uppercut that landed directly on her stumbling opponent’s solar plexus. The African woman doubled over in pain, the air having been knocked out of her, only to collapse on the ground soon after by a swift kick catching her in the side of her knee causing her leg to give out under her.
Gwyneth stepped over her fallen foe to free Seraphina. Luckily, her sister’s tormentors had left the key to her cuffs lying on a nearby dresser.
“Thanks,†said Seraphina in between gasps for breath as Gwyneth pulled the dildo out of her before unlocking the cuffs and untying the ropes around her ankles.
“No problem.†Gwyneth left her sister to unbuckle the belt around her waist on her own. The last thing she wanted at the moment was to allow her opponents an opportunity to recover. She wrenched the still recovering dark-skinned woman’s arms behind her back to cuff her wrists to the foot of the bed. The ropes were put to use hogtying the unconscious Indonesian convict.
Noticing Seraphina rolling her shoulders after propping herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, Gwyneth sat down cross legged behind her to provide a quick shoulder rub. One of the more mundane uses for her talent was that she could kind of rejigger it into being useful for hunting out tight spots during a massage of all things. She doubted any of her prisoners would ever believe that the sadist who inflicted unbearable agony on them enjoyed using that selfsame talent to spoil her sisters with the best shoulder rubs they’d ever get. Seraphina let out an almost seductive sounding sigh of contentment feeling Gwyneth’s thumbs dig into the knots her struggling had caused to form in her shoulders.
“So how’d you get into this mess anyways?†asked Gwyneth.
“Prisoner transfer. I received a message that Iofiel had a couple of women whose greatest nightmares were of being sexually assaulted. Kammotas wanted me to come over to finalize the transfer to my domain. I didn’t realize that anything was wrong until the prisoners I was supposed to be picking up jumped me right outside Iofiel’s office.â€
“That would be these two?†said Gwyneth, glancing at the two women she’d just beaten up.
“Mhm. Iofiel thought it would be appropriately ironic to have me be the victim of the very prisoners I was supposed to punish. Though where they got the idea to tickle me is beyond me.†Seraphina went silent for a couple seconds, evidently thinking about something. “By the way, where’s Mikelle? Did you come alone for this?â€
“Yep. Mikelle came over first when you didn’t check back in. She’s been got too. Iofiel and one of the convicts tickled her until she passed out, then had her carried somewhere else. They did something weird to the staircases to keep intruders out. I couldn’t figure out how to get past it.â€
“Mmm. I’ll see what I can do then…â€
“Hehehe… You’ll never figure it out.†The two demon’s conversation was interrupted by a chuckle coming from the foot of the bed. The inmate she’d handcuffed there apparently had at least recovered enough to mock them. “You’re never gonna reach your friend. You’ll never guess what sort of barrier our boss set up!â€
Gwyneth and Seraphina shared a glance. The bound convict only seemed to realize her mistake after the two women hopped off the bed to loom over her.
“Is it just me or did this one just hint that she knows what’s goin’ on?â€
“I believe so. I don’t recall you ever mentioning that you ran into a barrier specifically.â€
“H-hold on. I don’t know anything. I swear!†Gwyneth and Seraphina ignored their captive’s pleas and attempts to scoot away from them, which only really resulted in the bound convict pressing her back even harder against the foot of the bed.
“She doesn’t seem too willin’ to tell us what she knows, Sera. But I think we both know the best way to extract some information out of an unwillin’ informant.â€
“Of course, Gwyn.â€
“Pleasure.†“Pain.†Both of the angel-winged demons spoke at the same time. Realizing their mistake, they both broke out in giggles that made their captive’s blood run cold.
“Well we can’t do both at once! How about we split the difference on this one,†Seraphina suggested.
“Do it Mikelle’s way then?â€
The bound convict had an idea of what was in store for her, and she had a good feeling she wasn’t going to like it. Seeing both women kneel down with evil smiles on their faces caused the ebony-skinned prisoner to panic. Her feet lashed out in a series of kicks in an attempt to ward them off. The only thing that really resulted in was Gwyneth grabbing both of her legs to put her ankles in a headlock.
“Thanks for making this easier for me,†the red-haired demon taunted. The bound convict’s fears immediately came true. Gwyneth had begun raking her nails across her bare feet near the base of her toes in long horizontal strokes that stretched from the outer edge of one foot all the way across to the edge of the other. Every time she reached the end she’d restart the process a finger’s width down on a trip down to her heels. The prisoner’s face went stiff in an effort to keep from laughing.
“Playing tough, huh? I love it when a girl does her best to come off strong.†Seraphina had opted to sit off to their prisoner’s side. The way the seductive demon practically purred into her ear would’ve made the bound woman flustered under normal conditions, but in this case there was a noticeable tinge of malice to it that made her want to cry instead. Feeling the busty demon’s hands slip in through the tears in her prisoner’s outfit on their way up to her armpits made her body go rigid. The way she’d been terrorizing the demon’s armpits just a few minutes prior was front and center in her mind, and she was dead certain her victim was on her way to get some payback. She preemptively squeezed her arms against her sides as much as her bondage would allow in an attempt to block the fingers out.
The prisoner was so focused on the idea that her armpits were about to come under attack that she was caught off guard feeling those slender fingers suddenly dig into the vulnerable flesh in between her ribs. “Oh my! No bra strap? Or did I just miss it? It should be about here, shouldn’t it?†she heard the busty demon tease. She could barely focus enough to even comprehend what Seraphina was taunting her about. Purely by accident, Seraphina had managed to dig her fingers into one of the prisoner’s worst spots. The bolt of ticklish electricity wrapped around the prisoner’s lungs to force out a scream of ticklish agony she couldn’t contain.
“EEEEEEHEHEHAHAHA! Oh gohODHEHEHAHAHA!†she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her body instinctively tried to draw itself into a ball to escape the tickling, but Gwyneth was too strong for her to break her ankles free. The red-haired woman had changed tactics to gently scratching the tips of her nails against the center of her arches. The little shocks of ticklish agony each stroke sent up her legs were maddening. At the same time, Seraphina knew she wasn’t a skilled enough tickler to easily find such a sensitive spot again after she’d lost it. Her fingers dug into the prisoner’s ribs as much to exploit the treasure trove of nerve endings she’d stumbled across as to avoid the sudden bout of upper body twisting from her victim dislodging her fingers.
The dark-skinned prisoner had never realized until now that it was possible for tickling to feel so horrible. It was like her ticklers had stolen away control of her own body from her. She could no more prevent another shriek of laughter from getting wrung out of her lungs whenever Seraphina’s fingers sunk in between her ribs again as she could wriggle her ankles out of Gwyneth’s headlock to escape the incessant scratching against her arches that made her titter like a little schoolgirl. The demonic sisters hadn’t planned on it, but their differing approaches were driving their dark-skinned prisoner insane. Going from the light tickling on her feet to the more intense sensations from her ribs and back again left her head too much of a mess to think clearly. The bound prisoner was left babbling out pleas for mercy in between her laughter until her tormentors let up over 10 minutes later.
“Gonna tell us about yer boss’ fancy schamncy magical barrier now or would you like some more first?†Gwyneth asked. Her finger poked the helpless soles still in her grasp, causing their prisoner to yelp.
“I-I can’t. The b-boss’ll kill me if I talk,†the dark-skinned convict stammered in between gasps for breath.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you won’t then,†said Seraphina. She was taking advantage in the lull of the action to raise their victim’s shirt above her breasts, fully exposing her upper body from her bare, modest bust down to her waist. “Because no matter how much we tickle you, at least you’ll never have to worry about dying!â€
“Wha…? What are yohu… No. Stohohop! Cuhut it outhehEHEHAHAHAHA! NO MOrehehehEHAHAHAHAHAHA!†Once again, the dark-skinned convict was slow to grasp what her tormentors’ taunts were about, at least up until their nails dove in wiggling again. She immediately burst into deep, throaty guffaws under their renewed assault. Gwyneth had taken the opportunity to readjust her position. Rather than holding her ankles in a headlock, she was kneeling on the convict’s shins to pin her legs to the ground so she could put all 10 fingers to work on her wiggling soles. At the same time, Seraphina had switched targets to her newly exposed breasts and stomach. A small part of the convict’s brain was in shock over how good the busty angel was at manipulating her breasts. Practiced fingers were toying with her supple skin and stiff nipples in all the right ways to make it tickle far more than it was enjoyable.
It was at that moment that the Indonesian woman Gwyneth had left hogtied in the corner began to stir. The tan-skinned asian woman’s eyes fluttering open didn’t go unnoticed by either of the demons. In fact, an evil idea popped into Gwyneth’s head seeing their second prisoner come around. The red-haired demon briefly glanced around before, having nothing else within reach she could use, tore off a long strip of her own shirt and tied a knot into the middle. She held it out for Seraphina to take, who stared at it blankly in confusion. Realization hit seeing her sister point at the Indonesian woman coming around in the corner. Seraphina took the strip of cloth, shoved the knot into their cackling captive’s, and tied the strips behind her head as a makeshift knotted cleave gag.
“Come on! The tickles ain’t gonna stop until you talk!†Gwyneth jeered. She made certain to taunt loudly enough over the dark-skinned woman’s peals of laughter for the Indonesian prisoner to hear. Her fingers had resumed dancing across her victim’s wiggling soles. She’d been experimenting a little and discovered that drawing little circles with her nails on the bound woman’s heels seemed to drive her up the wall.
“Just tell us what we want to know and it’ll all be over,†Seraphina cooed, similarly making certain to speak loudly. Memories of playing with some of Mikelle’s prisoners were coming back to her. Mikelle had shown her how shaking the pads of her fingers back and forth all across the prisoners’ stomachs would drive them wild with ticklish agony. She decided to give it a try and was emboldened to watch the bound African woman screech into her gag as a result. Mixing it up with feeling around for that spot on her rib cage proved to be devastatingly effective. Even if she didn’t manage to hit it, the threat of coming close was enough to send the bound, ebony-skinned convict into overdrive with terrified pleading into her gag.
The African woman’s head was in disarray. The busty demon’s earlier taunting was ringing in her ears. Fear of what the boss would do to her if they ever found out she’d narced was competing with the terrified notion that these two psychotic women wouldn’t ever stop tickling her until she spilled the beans. It was only that deep seated fear of the ringleader that kept her from breaking under the torture. She continued to babble for mercy into her gag as the two angel-winged demons continued to hammer away at her helpless, sensitive body, but was too scared to bring herself to promise to talk in return for making it all stop.
The Indonesian woman, on the other hand, was terrified out of her wits. She’d woken up to the sight of a pair of demons sadistically torturing her fellow inmate right in front of her eyes. As far as she was aware, she was watching a cruel game of taunting a gagged prisoner that the torture would end if she managed to talk, not an interrogation. She was doing everything she could to pretend she was still unconscious. She knew how ticklish she was and the very idea of the two demons turning their attention on her made her blood run cold with fear.
Her luck ran out after 10 agonizing minutes of having to listen to her fellow convict’s screeches of laughter and the demons’ jeering. “Look, Seraphina! The other one’s awake. How do you feel about givin’ this one a break and try takin’ her for a spin?â€
“Sounds good to me. Let me get the feet this time,†she heard the other one respond.
The Indonesian woman’s heart leapt into her mouth. They’d noticed! Her eyes sprang open to see the two angel-winged women stand up to loom over her. The only things she could focus on were their sadistic smiles and the way her fellow convict was left wheezing for breath after they were through with her. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything you want to know!†she yelled seeing the naked blonde one lean over with an outstretched index finger toward her exposed feet.
“Oh? Here’s a question then. Get it wrong and I think you know what sort of punishment game you’ll face.†The red-haired one crouched down in front of her face. The hogtied woman was scared witless by the smug grin on her face. If she craned her head around she could see how the busty one had taken position to threateningly wiggle her nails within an inch of her bound soles. “The hallway leading up to the top floor of this mansion has a special type of magical barrier to keep unwanted guests out. What type of magic is it? Tick tock! 10 seconds to answer! 9! 8!â€
The Indonesian woman felt a surge of hope for the first time. She was in luck! It just so happened that she’d been in the room with her partner when the boss had explained it. She couldn’t have been more eager to start telling them everything they knew if it meant having to endure any tickling herself.
As implied by the title, this is a follow up to an earlier story of mine: Just Desserts (F/F, Multiple F/F, intense, long). I'd recommending going back to check that one first if you need any reminds on who the various characters are.
Part 3: Just Desserts 3: Where Nightmares Come True(FF/FF)
Part 4: Just Desserts 4: Well Deserved Punishment (FFF/FF)
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“Prisoner revolt, my ass. That bitch backstabbed us,†Gwyneth muttered to herself. She scowled with displeasure while double checking the situation through her binoculars. As much as she enjoyed the sights of people being tortured under normal circumstances, seeing one of her own sisters on the receiving end was decidedly unpleasant. The tree she’d found overlooking the decrepit mansion gave her the perfect vantage point for peering in through the master bedroom’s window. Seeing her sister Mikelle screaming her head off with laughter from a pair of women going to town tickling her naked body made the rare opportunity at voyeurism anything but enjoyable.
Even with the heavy blindfold over her eyes and the ball-gag in her mouth, it was difficult for Gwyneth to mistake the woman tied to the bed for anyone else. There weren’t exactly many humans or demons that had a combination of shoulder length platinum-silver hair and white feathered wings sprouting out of their backs. Gwyneth’s tree was too far away to hear anything, but she’d visited her sister’s hell of smiles and laughter enough to know that the bound woman was undoubtedly laughing as hard as her lungs would allow from her tormentors spidering their fingers all across her stomach and raking combs in between her toes.
At least one of her sister’s ticklers was someone Gwyneth recognized. Iofiel, the nominal master of this hell, was kneeling in a black semi-transparent nighty on the side of the bed attacking Mikelle’s vulnerable upper body. Her sculpted face, none the less beautiful than any of Kammotas the Cruel’s other demonic torturers’, was twisted in sadistic delight as her slim fingers alternated between rapidly squeezing up and down the length of her victim’s sides and lightly dancing the tips all over her flat stomach. Black feathers that had undoubtedly come from the wings sprouting out of her back were dancing across Mikelle’s rock hard nipples, wide open pussy, and inside her armpits in an assault Gwyneth was aware her sister loved to apply to her own victims.
The other woman was a mystery to the red-haired demon. It certainly didn’t help that she had her back turned to the window. All she could make out was that the woman had wavy strawberry blonde hair that fell a little past her shoulder blades and was butt naked, giving Gwyneth a good view of her sizable D-cup breasts, tight waist, and long legs. The way the woman was using one hand to hold Mikelle’s feet still so the other could alternate between sawing a comb across the base of her toes and dragging it across the vulnerable webbings in between gave the impression to Gwyneth that Mikelle would’ve been proud of her technique. The red-haired demon’s toes weren’t nearly half as ticklish as her sister’s, but just the sight of how cruelly the woman was targeting the spot made her subconsciously clench her toes in sympathy.
Though instead of immediately rushing off to save her sister, Gwyneth pulled out her phone to make a call. “Boss, it’s me.â€
“Gwyneth! Do you have any updates?†A voice resembling an approaching rockslide came from the receiver. Kammotas the Cruel was the devil responsible for creating Gwyneth, her sisters, and Iofiel. For day to day operations he functioned as something akin to their boss, being the one responsible for winning the sisters contracts on souls to torment and making certain the hells they ran weren’t running into any difficulties. It was under his orders that Gwyneth, Mikelle, and Seraphina had all come to Iofiel’s dimension, albeit for different reasons.
Kammotas had given a briefing on the situation before she’d headed out. Seraphina had gone on a business trip to Iofiel’s hell of trapping its captives in literal living nightmares. It’d taken an oddly long time for her to get back so Mikelle, who’d had some free time on her hands, dropped by to check on her. It was only after both of the sisters had disappeared that Kammotas received word that a prison break had occurred.
“Bad news, Boss. It turns out Iofiel’s prisoners didn’t stage a revolt like we thought. That bitch is workin’ with ‘em!â€
“Language, Gwyneth,†Kammotas scolded.
“Sorry. Anyways, I got eyes on ‘em having nabbed Mikelle. Iofiel’s ticklin’ the crap out of her with some strawberry broad. No sign of Sera. I’m assumin’ she’s bein’ held elsewhere.â€
“I see. Iofiel has never shown much of an interest in tickling as a form of punishment before. I suspect she’s somehow discovered your weaknesses. Make haste in saving them. The situation is worse than I’d feared.â€
“Can do, Boss,†Gwyneth answered before hanging up. She’d been thinking the same thing, though she didn’t mind getting the boss’ opinion. A design flaw the three of them shared as creations of Kammotas the Cruel was that they grew more susceptible to forms of suffering the more skilled they grew with inflicting them. Gwyneth had an astute sense of pain, Seraphina an erotic body that would become aroused at the slightest touch, and Mikelle was so ticklish that even a complete novice could reduce her to hysterics within minutes. The idea that Iofiel may have discovered her cousins’ weaknesses and was proving willing to share that knowledge with others had her concerned.
Hopping off the tree, Gwyneth darted across the ground leading to the mansion. She mentally thanked whatever gods would bother to listen to a demon like her that Iofiel had gone for the aesthetic of having her base of operation be a decrepit, potentially-haunted-looking old mansion. Plenty of the windows had been smashed open for the sake of making the place appear appropriately creepy. All the red-haired demon had to do was hop through the nearest one to gain entry. From there, it was easy to follow Mikelle’s frenzied peals of laughter up several flights of stairs to where she was being held.
Easy, that is, up until she suddenly found herself traveling back down the staircase she'd just been climbing. “The hell…?†Gwyneth muttered to herself in confusion. A quick glance around confirmed that she was on the same staircase traveling up to the fourth floor as before. Turning around, she started climbing again only to experience the exact same thing. She’d get roughly halfway up the staircase only to be walking down it a moment later without any idea how the change had been made. Realization dawned on her after a few more attempts.
“They set up a barrier!†she exclaimed. The angelic-winged woman pulled her hair in frustration. Anything related to magic had always been a weakness of hers. Unlike Seraphina or Mikelle, she had never been any good at identifying what sort of magic was being used and was even worse at any process of deconstructing them past hitting it until it went away. “What’s even goin’ on here? Is it spinnin’ me around? Am I getting teleported? Mind controlled into walking back? Argh! I can’t tell what’s going on!â€
After several minutes of wracking her brain with accompanying attempts to force her way through, Gwynth had to admit defeat. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of what was keeping her from making progress. No amount of poking around led to another staircase going up.
If there was any silver lining to the situation, Mikelle’s laughter had stopped during her attempts at getting up the stairs. Gwyneth heard a door open and quickly hid herself around a nearby corner. The sound of footsteps mixed with grunted curses clued her in to peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the women passing across the top of the staircase. A pair of humans, presumably former inmates judging by the black and white striped prisoner uniforms they wore, were carrying an unconscious Mikelle between them. Gwyneth had mixed feelings watching them pass from her hiding spot. On the plus side, this meant they weren’t torturing Mikelle anymore. On the other hand, she didn’t like the idea that she hadn’t been able to do anything to prevent them from tickle torturing her little sister until she’d passed out.
But it wasn’t like she was in any better position to help now that they’d stopped. Wherever they were taking Mikelle, it happened to still be on the opposite side of this confounding barrier. Taking some solace in knowing that Mikelle wasn’t being made to suffer at this exact moment, she turned around to begin searching through the nearby corridors. Her only hope now was that the security around Seraphina was laxer. ‘Sera would know what’s going on. She’s always been good at this sort of thing,’ the angelic-winged demon thought to herself.
Searching through the mansion wasn’t as certain a process as Gwyneth would’ve liked. Iofiel’s mansion was able to create an infinite number of new rooms to cater to the nightmares of whatever prisoners were brought in, but it didn’t necessarily change the floor layout to match. Opening a door greeted the fiery red-haired demon with the sight of a pit that stretched infinitely down into the darkness. Closing and reopening it revealed that it now led to muck encrusted sewers barely wide enough for a person to crawl through or a giant spider’s web ruled over by a titanic black widow spider so large that she had to crane her head back as far as she could to catch a glimpse of its underbelly. Gwyneth couldn’t even begin to figure out how to determine where a door would lead to next, so the only thing she could do was open every one a couple times to see where they led to next before moving onto the next.
“StohoHOHOP! Dahamn you, stohohop! LEHEHET MEHE gohohoHOHO!†The sounds of a woman shouting demands in between bouts of laughter became audible the moment the red-haired demon turned the handle on a door several corridors later. Cracking it open just enough to peer inside, any further was impossible thanks to a chain lock, revealed a bedroom where a pair of women had her older sister Seraphina bound to a queen size four poster bed. Seraphina’s wrists had been handcuffed together above her head with the chain threaded through some slots in the headboard to prevent her from pulling her arms down. Her legs were forced to point towards the ceiling in a V shape by a pair of ropes around her ankles stretching out to the corners of the headboard while a belt wrapping around the entire mattress kept her waist firmly anchored to the bed. Her tormentors, another pair of convicts wearing badly shredded black and white striped uniforms that showed plenty of exposed skin underneath, were taking advantage of the beautiful demon’s helplessness to gang tickle her.
“What’s wrong? Not gonna cum? The boss said you were a slut who’d get off if I just rubbed your tits a little,†taunted one of the convicts. The seductive African woman was kneeling on the side of the bed using her nails to skitter all over Seraphina’s jiggling melons. She alternated between teasingly dragging her nails all around the tops, flicking her nails against the demon’s swollen nipples, and rapidly tapping up and down the undersides, all while leering with unconcealed lust at how her victim’s struggling would make her massive globes shake, jiggle, and bounce.
“Maybe we’re not doing it enough. I think we should go faster. You know, get in even more stimulation,†teased the other. Standing at the foot of the bed was a small Indonesian woman. Her fingers were scrabbling all over Seraphina’s wiggling, defenseless soles. Her attack was much less coordinated than her counterpart’s. Fingers flailed around at any bit of skin they could reach rather than attempting to focus on any sensitive spots she managed to hit. More often than not, her victim’s attempts at wiggling her soles out of the way ended up proving to be effective at preventing her nails from finding purchase, but what the small woman lacked in technique she made up for with single minded cruelty. Seraphina was clearly growing tired. Each bout of wiggling to escape the fingers grew shorter than the last while the amount of time she needed to rest grew longer. The tanned-skinned woman was quick to punish every second of rest by sending her nails scrabbling all over her soles.
“FUHUHUCK youhehehEHAHAHAHA!†Seraphina screamed. Their combined assault was forcing her to cackle with laughter. Her entire body shook from the ticklish sensations surging through her, her hips bucking against the belt holding her down with all their might.
“Look at how turned on she’s getting. She must really want it!†taunted the Indonesian woman. Even with how much Seraphina hated being tickled, it was impossible for her to prevent herself from getting turned on feeling the touch on her breasts and feet. Her sopping wet pussy hadn’t gone unnoticed by the women toying with her. In fact, that seemed to be what they were looking for. As Gwyneth watched, the Indonesian convict stopped tickling to grab a studded dildo lying on the bed. She pushed it into Seraphina’s open pussy where she started gently stirring it around inside her.
“Ah! AH! Fuck! Fuck! FuhuckhehEHEHAHAHA! STohohoP! STOHOHOP ithehAHAHHOHOHOHO!†Seraphina barely had enough time to gasp before breaking out laughing again. Noticing her partner going for a more sexual approach, the ebony-skinned convict had changed targets to Seraphina’s exposed armpits. Her fingers had pressed down into the depths of her pits to vigorously shake around. The Indonesian woman was careful to keep the dildo play just gentle enough that the intense armpit tickling overwhelmed whatever pleasure their victim could get out of it. Their coordinated assault on her body reduced Seraphina to hysterics. Her head shook from side to side while she screamed with laughter from the agony of being kept on the edge of an orgasm while one of her worst spots was mercilessly tickled.
A loud cracking sound interrupted them from continuing their cruel games. Gwyneth had gotten fed up enough with watching her sister be tortured to forgo a more stealthy attempt at slipping into the room in favor of kicking the door hard enough to rip the chain right out of the doorframe. Both convicts looked back with surprise just in time to see an angel-winged demon charging into the room at them. The Indonesian convict didn’t even have enough time to completely turn around to face her before a flying roundhouse kick caught her in the side of the head.
This was one of the times Gwyneth was glad she worked with the souls of the dead. Her hell of blades and brass knuckles had given her plenty of experience with the fact that they wouldn’t die a second time no matter how hard she hit them. Even as her kick caused her target’s head to snap to the side hard enough to break her neck from the whiplash, she was confident that it wouldn’t do much more than knock her out. The force of the kick sent the woman flying off to the side where she collapsed into a heap.
Her attack unfortunately also sent Gwyneth spilling onto the ground herself, unable to land properly after connecting with the kick. The African convict seized the opportunity to scramble off the bed while the demon was still picking herself up. She launched herself at the demon in a barrage of punches that forced Gwyneth to backpedal away.
All the while, information was flowing into Gwyneth’s head. Solar Plexus. Ribcage. Knee. She ducked under one of the convict’s wild swings to bury her fist into the side of her ribcage and was rewarded with her opponent staggering to the side with a cry of pain. What she lacked in magical aptitude, Gwyneth made up for with a supernatural understanding of where a person’s weak spots were. She knew just the right places to hit any given person in just the right ways to cause the maximum amount of pain simply by laying eyes on them. Her fist lashed out in a short uppercut that landed directly on her stumbling opponent’s solar plexus. The African woman doubled over in pain, the air having been knocked out of her, only to collapse on the ground soon after by a swift kick catching her in the side of her knee causing her leg to give out under her.
Gwyneth stepped over her fallen foe to free Seraphina. Luckily, her sister’s tormentors had left the key to her cuffs lying on a nearby dresser.
“Thanks,†said Seraphina in between gasps for breath as Gwyneth pulled the dildo out of her before unlocking the cuffs and untying the ropes around her ankles.
“No problem.†Gwyneth left her sister to unbuckle the belt around her waist on her own. The last thing she wanted at the moment was to allow her opponents an opportunity to recover. She wrenched the still recovering dark-skinned woman’s arms behind her back to cuff her wrists to the foot of the bed. The ropes were put to use hogtying the unconscious Indonesian convict.
Noticing Seraphina rolling her shoulders after propping herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, Gwyneth sat down cross legged behind her to provide a quick shoulder rub. One of the more mundane uses for her talent was that she could kind of rejigger it into being useful for hunting out tight spots during a massage of all things. She doubted any of her prisoners would ever believe that the sadist who inflicted unbearable agony on them enjoyed using that selfsame talent to spoil her sisters with the best shoulder rubs they’d ever get. Seraphina let out an almost seductive sounding sigh of contentment feeling Gwyneth’s thumbs dig into the knots her struggling had caused to form in her shoulders.
“So how’d you get into this mess anyways?†asked Gwyneth.
“Prisoner transfer. I received a message that Iofiel had a couple of women whose greatest nightmares were of being sexually assaulted. Kammotas wanted me to come over to finalize the transfer to my domain. I didn’t realize that anything was wrong until the prisoners I was supposed to be picking up jumped me right outside Iofiel’s office.â€
“That would be these two?†said Gwyneth, glancing at the two women she’d just beaten up.
“Mhm. Iofiel thought it would be appropriately ironic to have me be the victim of the very prisoners I was supposed to punish. Though where they got the idea to tickle me is beyond me.†Seraphina went silent for a couple seconds, evidently thinking about something. “By the way, where’s Mikelle? Did you come alone for this?â€
“Yep. Mikelle came over first when you didn’t check back in. She’s been got too. Iofiel and one of the convicts tickled her until she passed out, then had her carried somewhere else. They did something weird to the staircases to keep intruders out. I couldn’t figure out how to get past it.â€
“Mmm. I’ll see what I can do then…â€
“Hehehe… You’ll never figure it out.†The two demon’s conversation was interrupted by a chuckle coming from the foot of the bed. The inmate she’d handcuffed there apparently had at least recovered enough to mock them. “You’re never gonna reach your friend. You’ll never guess what sort of barrier our boss set up!â€
Gwyneth and Seraphina shared a glance. The bound convict only seemed to realize her mistake after the two women hopped off the bed to loom over her.
“Is it just me or did this one just hint that she knows what’s goin’ on?â€
“I believe so. I don’t recall you ever mentioning that you ran into a barrier specifically.â€
“H-hold on. I don’t know anything. I swear!†Gwyneth and Seraphina ignored their captive’s pleas and attempts to scoot away from them, which only really resulted in the bound convict pressing her back even harder against the foot of the bed.
“She doesn’t seem too willin’ to tell us what she knows, Sera. But I think we both know the best way to extract some information out of an unwillin’ informant.â€
“Of course, Gwyn.â€
“Pleasure.†“Pain.†Both of the angel-winged demons spoke at the same time. Realizing their mistake, they both broke out in giggles that made their captive’s blood run cold.
“Well we can’t do both at once! How about we split the difference on this one,†Seraphina suggested.
“Do it Mikelle’s way then?â€
The bound convict had an idea of what was in store for her, and she had a good feeling she wasn’t going to like it. Seeing both women kneel down with evil smiles on their faces caused the ebony-skinned prisoner to panic. Her feet lashed out in a series of kicks in an attempt to ward them off. The only thing that really resulted in was Gwyneth grabbing both of her legs to put her ankles in a headlock.
“Thanks for making this easier for me,†the red-haired demon taunted. The bound convict’s fears immediately came true. Gwyneth had begun raking her nails across her bare feet near the base of her toes in long horizontal strokes that stretched from the outer edge of one foot all the way across to the edge of the other. Every time she reached the end she’d restart the process a finger’s width down on a trip down to her heels. The prisoner’s face went stiff in an effort to keep from laughing.
“Playing tough, huh? I love it when a girl does her best to come off strong.†Seraphina had opted to sit off to their prisoner’s side. The way the seductive demon practically purred into her ear would’ve made the bound woman flustered under normal conditions, but in this case there was a noticeable tinge of malice to it that made her want to cry instead. Feeling the busty demon’s hands slip in through the tears in her prisoner’s outfit on their way up to her armpits made her body go rigid. The way she’d been terrorizing the demon’s armpits just a few minutes prior was front and center in her mind, and she was dead certain her victim was on her way to get some payback. She preemptively squeezed her arms against her sides as much as her bondage would allow in an attempt to block the fingers out.
The prisoner was so focused on the idea that her armpits were about to come under attack that she was caught off guard feeling those slender fingers suddenly dig into the vulnerable flesh in between her ribs. “Oh my! No bra strap? Or did I just miss it? It should be about here, shouldn’t it?†she heard the busty demon tease. She could barely focus enough to even comprehend what Seraphina was taunting her about. Purely by accident, Seraphina had managed to dig her fingers into one of the prisoner’s worst spots. The bolt of ticklish electricity wrapped around the prisoner’s lungs to force out a scream of ticklish agony she couldn’t contain.
“EEEEEEHEHEHAHAHA! Oh gohODHEHEHAHAHA!†she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her body instinctively tried to draw itself into a ball to escape the tickling, but Gwyneth was too strong for her to break her ankles free. The red-haired woman had changed tactics to gently scratching the tips of her nails against the center of her arches. The little shocks of ticklish agony each stroke sent up her legs were maddening. At the same time, Seraphina knew she wasn’t a skilled enough tickler to easily find such a sensitive spot again after she’d lost it. Her fingers dug into the prisoner’s ribs as much to exploit the treasure trove of nerve endings she’d stumbled across as to avoid the sudden bout of upper body twisting from her victim dislodging her fingers.
The dark-skinned prisoner had never realized until now that it was possible for tickling to feel so horrible. It was like her ticklers had stolen away control of her own body from her. She could no more prevent another shriek of laughter from getting wrung out of her lungs whenever Seraphina’s fingers sunk in between her ribs again as she could wriggle her ankles out of Gwyneth’s headlock to escape the incessant scratching against her arches that made her titter like a little schoolgirl. The demonic sisters hadn’t planned on it, but their differing approaches were driving their dark-skinned prisoner insane. Going from the light tickling on her feet to the more intense sensations from her ribs and back again left her head too much of a mess to think clearly. The bound prisoner was left babbling out pleas for mercy in between her laughter until her tormentors let up over 10 minutes later.
“Gonna tell us about yer boss’ fancy schamncy magical barrier now or would you like some more first?†Gwyneth asked. Her finger poked the helpless soles still in her grasp, causing their prisoner to yelp.
“I-I can’t. The b-boss’ll kill me if I talk,†the dark-skinned convict stammered in between gasps for breath.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you won’t then,†said Seraphina. She was taking advantage in the lull of the action to raise their victim’s shirt above her breasts, fully exposing her upper body from her bare, modest bust down to her waist. “Because no matter how much we tickle you, at least you’ll never have to worry about dying!â€
“Wha…? What are yohu… No. Stohohop! Cuhut it outhehEHEHAHAHAHA! NO MOrehehehEHAHAHAHAHAHA!†Once again, the dark-skinned convict was slow to grasp what her tormentors’ taunts were about, at least up until their nails dove in wiggling again. She immediately burst into deep, throaty guffaws under their renewed assault. Gwyneth had taken the opportunity to readjust her position. Rather than holding her ankles in a headlock, she was kneeling on the convict’s shins to pin her legs to the ground so she could put all 10 fingers to work on her wiggling soles. At the same time, Seraphina had switched targets to her newly exposed breasts and stomach. A small part of the convict’s brain was in shock over how good the busty angel was at manipulating her breasts. Practiced fingers were toying with her supple skin and stiff nipples in all the right ways to make it tickle far more than it was enjoyable.
It was at that moment that the Indonesian woman Gwyneth had left hogtied in the corner began to stir. The tan-skinned asian woman’s eyes fluttering open didn’t go unnoticed by either of the demons. In fact, an evil idea popped into Gwyneth’s head seeing their second prisoner come around. The red-haired demon briefly glanced around before, having nothing else within reach she could use, tore off a long strip of her own shirt and tied a knot into the middle. She held it out for Seraphina to take, who stared at it blankly in confusion. Realization hit seeing her sister point at the Indonesian woman coming around in the corner. Seraphina took the strip of cloth, shoved the knot into their cackling captive’s, and tied the strips behind her head as a makeshift knotted cleave gag.
“Come on! The tickles ain’t gonna stop until you talk!†Gwyneth jeered. She made certain to taunt loudly enough over the dark-skinned woman’s peals of laughter for the Indonesian prisoner to hear. Her fingers had resumed dancing across her victim’s wiggling soles. She’d been experimenting a little and discovered that drawing little circles with her nails on the bound woman’s heels seemed to drive her up the wall.
“Just tell us what we want to know and it’ll all be over,†Seraphina cooed, similarly making certain to speak loudly. Memories of playing with some of Mikelle’s prisoners were coming back to her. Mikelle had shown her how shaking the pads of her fingers back and forth all across the prisoners’ stomachs would drive them wild with ticklish agony. She decided to give it a try and was emboldened to watch the bound African woman screech into her gag as a result. Mixing it up with feeling around for that spot on her rib cage proved to be devastatingly effective. Even if she didn’t manage to hit it, the threat of coming close was enough to send the bound, ebony-skinned convict into overdrive with terrified pleading into her gag.
The African woman’s head was in disarray. The busty demon’s earlier taunting was ringing in her ears. Fear of what the boss would do to her if they ever found out she’d narced was competing with the terrified notion that these two psychotic women wouldn’t ever stop tickling her until she spilled the beans. It was only that deep seated fear of the ringleader that kept her from breaking under the torture. She continued to babble for mercy into her gag as the two angel-winged demons continued to hammer away at her helpless, sensitive body, but was too scared to bring herself to promise to talk in return for making it all stop.
The Indonesian woman, on the other hand, was terrified out of her wits. She’d woken up to the sight of a pair of demons sadistically torturing her fellow inmate right in front of her eyes. As far as she was aware, she was watching a cruel game of taunting a gagged prisoner that the torture would end if she managed to talk, not an interrogation. She was doing everything she could to pretend she was still unconscious. She knew how ticklish she was and the very idea of the two demons turning their attention on her made her blood run cold with fear.
Her luck ran out after 10 agonizing minutes of having to listen to her fellow convict’s screeches of laughter and the demons’ jeering. “Look, Seraphina! The other one’s awake. How do you feel about givin’ this one a break and try takin’ her for a spin?â€
“Sounds good to me. Let me get the feet this time,†she heard the other one respond.
The Indonesian woman’s heart leapt into her mouth. They’d noticed! Her eyes sprang open to see the two angel-winged women stand up to loom over her. The only things she could focus on were their sadistic smiles and the way her fellow convict was left wheezing for breath after they were through with her. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything you want to know!†she yelled seeing the naked blonde one lean over with an outstretched index finger toward her exposed feet.
“Oh? Here’s a question then. Get it wrong and I think you know what sort of punishment game you’ll face.†The red-haired one crouched down in front of her face. The hogtied woman was scared witless by the smug grin on her face. If she craned her head around she could see how the busty one had taken position to threateningly wiggle her nails within an inch of her bound soles. “The hallway leading up to the top floor of this mansion has a special type of magical barrier to keep unwanted guests out. What type of magic is it? Tick tock! 10 seconds to answer! 9! 8!â€
The Indonesian woman felt a surge of hope for the first time. She was in luck! It just so happened that she’d been in the room with her partner when the boss had explained it. She couldn’t have been more eager to start telling them everything they knew if it meant having to endure any tickling herself.
