dentrag1231
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It was only now that he truly realized the error of her ways. He was nothing but a blacksmith's apprentice. He should never have come to the graveyard. He may have helped make the sword that now lay on the ground, but he had no clue how to wield it. The rest of the town knew better than to travel to the graveyard on the full moon, when it was rumoured a powerful sorcerer communed with the dead. But he, with typical youthful arrogance, was convinced that he could vanquish them. So he had sneaked out on his own, and after making his way through the forest between his village and the graveyard brazenly strode in, seeking his foe. And that was how he found himself sitting on the cold ground, his ankles gripped by skeletal hands emerging from the ground, while two more held his arms behind him. Unable to flee, he started screaming as the black robed figure glided towards him. But he knew it would do no good. No one from the village would hear him.
Looking at the Necromancer, he discovered that although they did exist, they weren’t actually an old man. In fact, they weren’t a man at all. It was a tall, gaunt woman, looking to be in her mid-20s, though who knew if she looked her age, with pale skin and long black hair. Despite her thinness and lack of colour, she was quite gorgeous, especially with his thin black robe clinging to her. Under different circumstances, he might have flirted with her. Now, he could barely talk.
Ignoring his fearful questions about her intent, she directed another pair of skeletal hands to rise at his feet, where the slid off his shoes and socks. “Oh my, I wouldn’t have expected you to have such soft looking feet. These are quite cute indeed.” Her voice was icy, and yet underneath her cold words, there was a slightly seductive tone. Despite his terror he felt himself blushing at her comment. Her bashfulness turned to confusion, and then shock, when the two skeletal hands began to stroke up and down his feet, as he began to giggle.
He pleaded for her to stop, but she simply watched with a neutral expression as he struggled helplessly against the skeletons’ grip. The bony fingers were almost like fingernails stroking his surprisingly tender soles, and the sensation was unbearable. Still, he didn’t really have any option other than bearing it. Up and down they scratched, never changing their speed or technique, for almost half an hour. Half an hour of nonstop giggling as he soles were teased by the beautiful Necromancer’s powers. Had he known what was coming, he probably would have gladly taken the unbearably teasing stroking some more.
Observing her victim’s wiggling toes, the Necromancer saw potential. Focusing her magic, she found several different entities in the area that might help her tickle this hapless young man. Soon, almost unseen on the dark ground, a long insect poked up out of the ground. Though commonly referred to as crypt worms, it was in fact a type of millipede that fed upon the rotting wood of caskets. Though not actually dead, between its simplistic, instinct driven mind, and its close connection with death, she was able to force her will upon it. Thus it began to climb up the apprentice's bare feet, and though he didn’t know what it was, and was unable to see it, he certainly felt its many legs further tormenting his soft soles, before it began pushing between one of his pinky toes and its neighbour. His giggles now finally turned to laughter as he discovered just how sensitive the skin between his toes was. He tried to clench his feet tight, but spurned on by its master, it forced its way between each toe, before moving on to the next foot. Crypt worms were known for their tough shells, and he was unable to squish it with his feet. He tried shaking his feet hoping the movement might fling it off, but the Necromancer simply willed another skeleton through the ground, and soon its hand emerged and pinched his big toes together, gently but firmly. The insect regained its footing, and continued its journey until it threaded through all his toes. But it wasn’t done yet. She had specifically ensnared this one for its impressive length. It was so long that after threading between all his toes, it was able to walk along the tops of his feet and back to where it began before running into its end. This allowed it to continue marching between each toe in an endless loop that tormented his feet much more the two bony fingers on his soles did, though they nonetheless continued.
Pleased with the reaction one insect gave, she next focused on some tiny crypt beetles. These she had attack his torso, sending several of the tiny beetles to scurry over his sides and stomach. Although this seemed to tickle him a bit, it clearly paled in comparison to the bug tormenting his toes, so she soon grew bored and released them. Most scurried away, though one caught in his bellybutton, where it’s frantic wiggling had a much more desirable effect, as he twisted his torso to try and expel it. Maybe tickling his upper body was just a matter of technique?
She summoned yet another pair of hands to grip his elbows, and pull them to the ground, forcing him onto his back, which had the side effects of ensuring the insect in his bellybutton would stay trapped despite its tickly attempts to free itself. No less than four hands popped up at his sides once she had pulled the bones through the ground, and all 4 began poking, scratching, and squeezing his rib cage. “That’s more like it” she thought as she watched his struggles grow fiercer while his laughter grew louder. Not a single spot on his sides was left alone as the stiff digits explored all over his ribs, while she watched his reaction, observing which techniques produced the best results. Prods between his ribs seemed to be very effective, as did pinching the flesh around each rib.
While she coolly observed the torment, he was going through hell. It had been almost an hour since the two fingers had started teasing his soles, and it didn’t appear that this would end anytime soon. He pulled and struggled with all his might, but the magically imbued skeletal hands proved to be inescapable. All he could do was scream with involuntary laughter as the merciless Necromancer tortured him. Had he not been so caught up in the torture, he might have noted the faint blue light forming above him.
The Necromancer had managed to take control of a spirit bound to the grounds, and it now took form above the young man she was tormenting. When formed, it appeared as an ethereal woman, her face hidden behind a shroud. Under the Necromancer’s wordless command, it reached down its hands, and stroked his feet. The poor man howled with laughter. Its fingers felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was like dozens of soft fluffy feathers, running over his sensitive skin. They were also quite cold, but if anything, that seemed to increase the sensation. The most unique part of the experience, however, was how the passed through his skin, tickling him right to the bone. Now they passed up his leg, leaving behind a teasing chill as the horrible tickling ran up to his thighs, then moved to his ribs, passing right through the hands who had been tormenting him this whole time, until they reached his pits. The sudden sensation as the ghostly hands stroked him in such a sensitive place made him howl with laughter.
Curious as to how sensitive his armpits might be, the Necromancer has his elbows released, as the hands sunk into the ground and the skeleton was sent back to its resting place. However, he still could not sit up, as now his arms were pulled by their wrist outwards and up, until his arms were above his head. The hands at his sides moved out of the way to let them pass, before resuming their tickling.
Now the Ghost stroked his armpits again and got an even better reaction. The cold fingers still tickled like nothing he had felt before as they passed through his skin, but now, with his armpits pulled taut, the skin seemed much more vulnerable. The worst part of all this was the horrible tickling did nothing to lessen the feeling of the hands at his ribs, the beetle in his bellybutton, the damn millipede tormenting his toes, or even the two finger which had lightly stroking his soles the whole time.
The Necromancer, meanwhile, was completely enthralled by the sight that lay before her. She had long ago, much longer then her apparent age suggested, left behind the rules and taboos of society, and with it rejected biological desires. But looking at this young man squirm and giggling helplessly under her minion’s touches, she found it impossible to stop and focus on the rituals she had come her to perform. She noticed a crypt beetle crawling over his stomach, ignorant of its brethren trapped near it. She was momentarily confused; she had released them from her control. Then she realized his struggling on the ground had likely agitated one hiding under the dirt, and it was easily able to climb on. Sensing many more instinctively drawn by her powers, she wondered if maybe her early failure with them had been the result of so few getting lost amongst the stronger sensations coming from his feet. As the hands at his ribs pulled his shirt up passed the armpits that the ghost continued to torment, she brought forth dozens of the tiny insects to scurry over his torso. “Much better” she thought, as his laughter reached new heights. They ran almost mindlessly over his body, scurrying over his armpits without even being aware of the ghostly fingers they ran through. They ran over his ribs, tickling him with their tiny legs as they ran between the bony fingers doing the same. This continued for some time before finally, he received the mercy of unconsciousness.
With a small measure of disappointment, she sent back the skeletons, dissipated the ghost, and sent the insects scurrying away. Now that he was out, she allowed herself a small smile. That had been surprisingly enjoyable. And now she was free to return to her rituals, harvesting energy that would fuel her research until the next full moon. With shock, however, she realized the sun was breaking over horizon. She had been so entranced she had spent all night tickling the villager who had interrupted her. And she would never be able to gather energy without the light of the full moon. That was still too advanced for her.
She was silently panicking about what to do when she gazed upon the young man. Although the dead yielded much more energy than the living, as they no longer needed to hold onto it, if they were active enough, a living person could still supply the arcane energy she required. “Of course”, she thought, trying to supress a smirk “I’ll need to harvest his energy daily. If I took more then a few hours worth at a time, he wouldn’t be living for long. But as daily chores go, this won’t be too bad. For me at least.” As she hoisted him over her back with a strength greater then her appearance would suggest, she promised herself that this was only until next month, when there was another full moon.
Looking at the Necromancer, he discovered that although they did exist, they weren’t actually an old man. In fact, they weren’t a man at all. It was a tall, gaunt woman, looking to be in her mid-20s, though who knew if she looked her age, with pale skin and long black hair. Despite her thinness and lack of colour, she was quite gorgeous, especially with his thin black robe clinging to her. Under different circumstances, he might have flirted with her. Now, he could barely talk.
Ignoring his fearful questions about her intent, she directed another pair of skeletal hands to rise at his feet, where the slid off his shoes and socks. “Oh my, I wouldn’t have expected you to have such soft looking feet. These are quite cute indeed.” Her voice was icy, and yet underneath her cold words, there was a slightly seductive tone. Despite his terror he felt himself blushing at her comment. Her bashfulness turned to confusion, and then shock, when the two skeletal hands began to stroke up and down his feet, as he began to giggle.
He pleaded for her to stop, but she simply watched with a neutral expression as he struggled helplessly against the skeletons’ grip. The bony fingers were almost like fingernails stroking his surprisingly tender soles, and the sensation was unbearable. Still, he didn’t really have any option other than bearing it. Up and down they scratched, never changing their speed or technique, for almost half an hour. Half an hour of nonstop giggling as he soles were teased by the beautiful Necromancer’s powers. Had he known what was coming, he probably would have gladly taken the unbearably teasing stroking some more.
Observing her victim’s wiggling toes, the Necromancer saw potential. Focusing her magic, she found several different entities in the area that might help her tickle this hapless young man. Soon, almost unseen on the dark ground, a long insect poked up out of the ground. Though commonly referred to as crypt worms, it was in fact a type of millipede that fed upon the rotting wood of caskets. Though not actually dead, between its simplistic, instinct driven mind, and its close connection with death, she was able to force her will upon it. Thus it began to climb up the apprentice's bare feet, and though he didn’t know what it was, and was unable to see it, he certainly felt its many legs further tormenting his soft soles, before it began pushing between one of his pinky toes and its neighbour. His giggles now finally turned to laughter as he discovered just how sensitive the skin between his toes was. He tried to clench his feet tight, but spurned on by its master, it forced its way between each toe, before moving on to the next foot. Crypt worms were known for their tough shells, and he was unable to squish it with his feet. He tried shaking his feet hoping the movement might fling it off, but the Necromancer simply willed another skeleton through the ground, and soon its hand emerged and pinched his big toes together, gently but firmly. The insect regained its footing, and continued its journey until it threaded through all his toes. But it wasn’t done yet. She had specifically ensnared this one for its impressive length. It was so long that after threading between all his toes, it was able to walk along the tops of his feet and back to where it began before running into its end. This allowed it to continue marching between each toe in an endless loop that tormented his feet much more the two bony fingers on his soles did, though they nonetheless continued.
Pleased with the reaction one insect gave, she next focused on some tiny crypt beetles. These she had attack his torso, sending several of the tiny beetles to scurry over his sides and stomach. Although this seemed to tickle him a bit, it clearly paled in comparison to the bug tormenting his toes, so she soon grew bored and released them. Most scurried away, though one caught in his bellybutton, where it’s frantic wiggling had a much more desirable effect, as he twisted his torso to try and expel it. Maybe tickling his upper body was just a matter of technique?
She summoned yet another pair of hands to grip his elbows, and pull them to the ground, forcing him onto his back, which had the side effects of ensuring the insect in his bellybutton would stay trapped despite its tickly attempts to free itself. No less than four hands popped up at his sides once she had pulled the bones through the ground, and all 4 began poking, scratching, and squeezing his rib cage. “That’s more like it” she thought as she watched his struggles grow fiercer while his laughter grew louder. Not a single spot on his sides was left alone as the stiff digits explored all over his ribs, while she watched his reaction, observing which techniques produced the best results. Prods between his ribs seemed to be very effective, as did pinching the flesh around each rib.
While she coolly observed the torment, he was going through hell. It had been almost an hour since the two fingers had started teasing his soles, and it didn’t appear that this would end anytime soon. He pulled and struggled with all his might, but the magically imbued skeletal hands proved to be inescapable. All he could do was scream with involuntary laughter as the merciless Necromancer tortured him. Had he not been so caught up in the torture, he might have noted the faint blue light forming above him.
The Necromancer had managed to take control of a spirit bound to the grounds, and it now took form above the young man she was tormenting. When formed, it appeared as an ethereal woman, her face hidden behind a shroud. Under the Necromancer’s wordless command, it reached down its hands, and stroked his feet. The poor man howled with laughter. Its fingers felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was like dozens of soft fluffy feathers, running over his sensitive skin. They were also quite cold, but if anything, that seemed to increase the sensation. The most unique part of the experience, however, was how the passed through his skin, tickling him right to the bone. Now they passed up his leg, leaving behind a teasing chill as the horrible tickling ran up to his thighs, then moved to his ribs, passing right through the hands who had been tormenting him this whole time, until they reached his pits. The sudden sensation as the ghostly hands stroked him in such a sensitive place made him howl with laughter.
Curious as to how sensitive his armpits might be, the Necromancer has his elbows released, as the hands sunk into the ground and the skeleton was sent back to its resting place. However, he still could not sit up, as now his arms were pulled by their wrist outwards and up, until his arms were above his head. The hands at his sides moved out of the way to let them pass, before resuming their tickling.
Now the Ghost stroked his armpits again and got an even better reaction. The cold fingers still tickled like nothing he had felt before as they passed through his skin, but now, with his armpits pulled taut, the skin seemed much more vulnerable. The worst part of all this was the horrible tickling did nothing to lessen the feeling of the hands at his ribs, the beetle in his bellybutton, the damn millipede tormenting his toes, or even the two finger which had lightly stroking his soles the whole time.
The Necromancer, meanwhile, was completely enthralled by the sight that lay before her. She had long ago, much longer then her apparent age suggested, left behind the rules and taboos of society, and with it rejected biological desires. But looking at this young man squirm and giggling helplessly under her minion’s touches, she found it impossible to stop and focus on the rituals she had come her to perform. She noticed a crypt beetle crawling over his stomach, ignorant of its brethren trapped near it. She was momentarily confused; she had released them from her control. Then she realized his struggling on the ground had likely agitated one hiding under the dirt, and it was easily able to climb on. Sensing many more instinctively drawn by her powers, she wondered if maybe her early failure with them had been the result of so few getting lost amongst the stronger sensations coming from his feet. As the hands at his ribs pulled his shirt up passed the armpits that the ghost continued to torment, she brought forth dozens of the tiny insects to scurry over his torso. “Much better” she thought, as his laughter reached new heights. They ran almost mindlessly over his body, scurrying over his armpits without even being aware of the ghostly fingers they ran through. They ran over his ribs, tickling him with their tiny legs as they ran between the bony fingers doing the same. This continued for some time before finally, he received the mercy of unconsciousness.
With a small measure of disappointment, she sent back the skeletons, dissipated the ghost, and sent the insects scurrying away. Now that he was out, she allowed herself a small smile. That had been surprisingly enjoyable. And now she was free to return to her rituals, harvesting energy that would fuel her research until the next full moon. With shock, however, she realized the sun was breaking over horizon. She had been so entranced she had spent all night tickling the villager who had interrupted her. And she would never be able to gather energy without the light of the full moon. That was still too advanced for her.
She was silently panicking about what to do when she gazed upon the young man. Although the dead yielded much more energy than the living, as they no longer needed to hold onto it, if they were active enough, a living person could still supply the arcane energy she required. “Of course”, she thought, trying to supress a smirk “I’ll need to harvest his energy daily. If I took more then a few hours worth at a time, he wouldn’t be living for long. But as daily chores go, this won’t be too bad. For me at least.” As she hoisted him over her back with a strength greater then her appearance would suggest, she promised herself that this was only until next month, when there was another full moon.
