Sablesword
TMF Master
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EDIT: Here are links to the earlier parts of the story:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Princess Alisha's Ransom - Part 5 (conclusion)
by Sablesword
Three nights after the mock auction, the Sorceress Princess Alisha lay on the oversized ogre's cot, and dreamed.
It was the thirty-sixth night of her captivity, and she was a sorceress again, as well as a captive princess. Chup would give her permission to cast this spell or that, and she would do so. But she longed for the tickling to stop, she told herself, so that her sorcery would no longer depend on her captor's permission.
If she were sold from the block in Ranchijammu, she would need permission from her new owner to cast spells. But she wouldn't be sold there. She wouldn't be sold at all. Her father would pay her ransom, and she would return to the palace at Cherry Delving. The effects of forty days of tickling would fade, and she would once again be able to cast spells at her own whim, rather than that of her captor and owner.
In her dream, however, Alisha did not return to her father's palace. She was in Ranchijammu - in a painting of that city she had once seen - standing nude on a slave rug, on the auction block. The auctioneer was Lord Tonoforu, one of her father's ministers. He stood at the auctioneer's lectern, taking bids. Alisha tried to protest and found herself gagged. "Mmmph!" she said.
Lord Tonoforu turned a stern face to Alisha. "Now now, Your Highness. You have a duty to defer to the wisdom of your elders." He then went back to taking bids.
The crowd bidding on her were all ogres. Maark and the other ogres from Chup's bandit camp waved their large hands with their thick and skillful fingers, and shouted out sums of gold. "Sold!" Lord Tonoforu called out, but Alisha couldn't tell who had made the winning bid, or what it had been.
Then the dream changed. Alisha found herself dressed again, wearing the odd clothing of those odd Westerners she had once met, a "skirt" and a "blouse" of wool and linen. And sandals. And chains fettering her wrists and ankles. Chup was leading her forward, then carrying her into a brick building in a Westerner town full of brick buildings.
Chup wore Westerner clothing as well, but he kept his on when they entered the building. Alisha's clothing and chains all vanished, leaving her nude. Chup set her on a padded bench of leather and polished wood, and strapped her down.
Alisha squirmed. Chup said nothing, but merely gave her that calm, exasperating look. Machinery appeared around them, the clockwork devices that Westerners were so skilled at producing. But these devices all formed a single tickle-device; one aimed at Alisha's nude body.
Alisha squirmed again, and tried to wake up. But the dream held her. Chup smiled at her, a superior, exasperating smile, and operated controls. The clockwork began to move. She saw the brushes and feathers rotate and wiggle, moving with implacable, inhuman endurance, driven, Alisha knew with dream-knowledge, by an unseen waterwheel outside the building. She felt a vibration between her legs: Chup's device, but now driven by the unending power of a flowing river, rather than by the limited force of a wound-up spring. The machine's brushes and feathers came closer. Closer. Closer.
They made contact, tickling Alisha all over her naked skin, her helpless body. She screamed with laughter. She strained at the straps keeping her captive, but the straps did not give way. She tried to break out of the dream, to wake up, but the dream continued to hold her. She knew then, with dream-logic, that she would not wake up until the dream had finished with her, until the tickling had ended.
That seemed a long way away, an endless way away to Alisha. Brushes with soft bristles and with stiff bristles tickled the soles of her feet. Tickled her insteps, and her heels. The balls of her feet and her toes, and the spaces between them. Feathers and spinning woolen balls tickled sides of her legs, and her hips. Across her belly. Up and down her ribs. And her arms, stretched over her head. Around her breasts and over them. Behind her knees and on her kneecaps. The vibrating device between her legs pulsed against her most sensitive places, and those places grew even more sensitive as the tickling continued.
Alisha fought against the straps once more, and once more found struggling to be useless. The brushes and feathers and other implements continued to tickle her bare skin, driven by the untiring power of the water wheel. Their touch moved over her body in a pattern, and Chup, at the control levers, kept that pattern just predictable enough to make Alisha cringe with anticipation, and just variable enough to keep her guessing.
Laughter poured out of Alisha, from tickling too hot to be blissful. She felt the soft brushes and the stiff brushes chase each other over her soles, and she squirmed and writhed, unable to keep herself from doing so. The tickle-implements teasing the rest of her body drew back, so that all her attention was on her feet. Brush brush brush brush brush brush, the soft and stiff bristles touched every spot on the vulnerable soles of her feet. And then they did so a second time. And a third.
Finally the tickling brushes drew back, as Chup glanced over at Alisha and adjusted his controls. A new set of feathery ticklers moved in, ringing her ankles. Another adjustment of the controls and they stroked and wiggled, and began to slowly move up her body. She giggled and struggled, and once again the leather bonds held her in place, making her struggles useless.
The ring of feathery ticklers moved slowly up her legs, and Alisha could not escape their tickling touch. They moved past her knees, and she still could not escape them. They crept up her thighs, and avoiding their tickle-touch was impossible. Up to her hips, and she wished for them to hurry on to her less-ticklish belly. They reached her belly, and Alisha howled with laughter. She must have been mad, to have wished for this.
Over her breasts and up the sides of her ribs the feathery tickles creeped. They reached her shoulders and neck, and then began to move slowly back down her body. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!" Chup smirked at her from his controls. The device between her legs began to thrumb, a deep-pitched vibration driven by the tireless turning of the main axle that powered the entire tickle-machine. Alisha struggled to press herself against that vibrating device between her legs.
And then she woke up.
"Hssss. Oooooh!" Alisha was too frustrated to even speak. She felt her face grow hot, and her hands balled into fists. She pulled, hard, at the gilded cuffs and chains holding her captive on the oversized ogre's cot.
She had woken up too soon, and now it was morning. Maark came over to apply her morning foot-tickling. "Don't say anything," Alisha told him before he could give his usual morning greeting. "Just. Don't."
On the fortieth morning of her captivity, Princess Alisha enjoyed a hot bath instead of a foot-tickling. She had cast spells - at Chup's orders - to produce temporary screens that let her take that bath in private. As on the several previous days, she felt a mix of pleasure at using her magic and annoyance at needing Chup's permission to do so.
The bath itself was a pure pleasure, or nearly so. The only thing missing was Merci fussing over her. She missed her lady in waiting. And she would miss Chup, after he received her ransom. Maybe, she could convince her father to turn Chup over to her, as a prisoner, after her father had hunted him down. But that still wouldn't be the same.
Alisha toweled herself dry, and put on a clean set of green-and-white pajamas, along with a pair of sandals. She then dismissed the illusionary curtains that had provided her privacy in her bath. An ogre waited there, a guard against any foolish attempt on her part to escape. Chup stood there as well, to escort her to where his henchogre Maark was talking with a familiar but totally unexpected figure.
"Merci!" Alisha called as she hurried over. "What are you doing here?"
"Your Highness." Lady Merci made a formal courtesy to Princess Alisha, just as if they were in her father's court rather than a bandit's camp. "Prince Chup." She made a formal courtesy to the bandit prince as well. "I bring honorable greetings from Lord Tonoforu. And I come to beg a boon." She took a breath. "It is expected that Lord Tonoforu will arrive before sunset, with the ransom agreed upon: Forty thousand silvers of the South, for the release of my lady the Princess Alisha. Yet it is feared that he may be slightly delayed on the road, and so miss the time appointed for the delivery of the ransom. Should it fall so, the Lady Merci begs that the noble Prince Chup should stay his hand, for a brief time, and preserve the Princess Alisha from the terrible fate of the unransomed."
"How very formal," Chup said drily. "But yes, I am willing to wait four more days before selling her Highness in Ranchijammu - on two conditions." He watched Lady Merci closely, but she did not react. "First. You, Lady Merci, must stay here as well. If Lord Tonoforu arrives within three days and pays the ransom for Her Highness, then you may return with her. If he does not, then you will be sent to Ranchijammu along with Alisha, and I will receive the price of two pretty slavegirls instead of one. Second -"
"No!" Alisha cried out. "Chup! You didn't capture Merci; she came to parley. You must send her back to Lord Tonoforu."
"Your Highness," Merci said. "If I can keep you from being sold in Ranchijammu by being a hostage, then it's my duty to stay. If I can't, then there are worse fates than for me to be sold there as well."
Maark, looming silently over this conversation, suddenly smacked his lips. "Sold from auction blocks," he said. "With no clothes on." He switched languages. «Little Sorceress, you will feel better if Lady Merci is not sold beside you in Ranchijammu. But she will feel worse. »
Alisha nodded, tight lipped. Chup said, "Glad that's settled, then. Now for my second condition. If Lord Tonoforu doesn't arrive by sunset, then I will want a further forfeit from you two." He explained his idea.
"No!" This time it was Merci who protested. "It's, it's, it's a spectacle. You'll make a spectacle out Her Highness."
"And isn't that traditional for hostages awaiting ransom?" Alisha asked. Her good humor had returned with Merci's sputtering. "There was Lady Eunene when she was captured by Lord Jung, and what Lord Sun had Lady Yuna do when she was a hostage, and you told me yourself about Lady Bobana and Lady Lolana when -"
"All right," Merci gave in. "But not a moment before sunset, Prince Chup, not a moment before."
Chup just smiled at Merci's glare, and spread his hands in agreement.
The sun touched the horizon, dropped below it. The ogres lit torches, except for one ogre-shaman who continued chanting, casting a ritual spell he had started three hours ago. Alisha and Merci sat on a blanket-padded bench, and when the torches were all lit Chup grinned at them and pointed to the ground. Alisha stood and stripped, leaving her green and white pajamas on the spot where Chup had pointed. She saw Merci doing the same, more slowly.
Alisha sat back on the bench, with Merci beside her, and the ogres moved to bind them. Alisha felt the snugness of the cloth slings around her ankles, and watched as the ogres fastened them beneath a horizontal beam in front of the bench. Merci's ankles were bound the same way, and her upper body was tied to a vertical pole behind her, with her arms above her head. Another pole rose behind Alisha - she could feel it against her back, but the ogres did not tie her there - yet.
"Go ahead and cast the spells as I told you to," Chup said. That, Alisha knew, was why her arms were still free. She needed them for spellcasting. She waited a moment for the ogre-shaman to finish his own spell, an aiding spell. She felt its power flow into her. She could use that power in one way only: To cast the spells that Chup had commanded her to cast.
Alisha gestured and spoke Words. She cast the spell slowly, carefully, so as to increase its duration. Then she cast it again. And again. Six castings total. When she finished, Chup stepped forward to bind her to her own post behind her, her arms over her head, just like Merci. Helpless and vulnerable to a tickling. Just like Merci.
All around her Alisha saw - and felt - the ogres to the same for the illusionary figures she had produced. Six copies of herself and Merci, sitting naked and bound and vulnerable. Enough naked girl-skin for all the ogres to tickle, all at once. And all the tickling inflicted on the illusionary Alisha's would be felt by Alisha herself. And likewise, Alisha knew, for Merci and the illusions of her.
"It is past sunset, and Lord Tonoforu has not arrived with the ransom," Chup announced. "So let the forfeit begin!"
"Hooraaah!" the ogres cheered. "Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! Hoot!" With their fingers, and with feathers, and with various other implements they began to tickle. A chorus of laughter rose from the two trapped human women and their dozen illusionary counterparts.
Lady Merci, in the service to the Sorceress Princess Alisha, knew she was going mad. She wasn't just being tickled, she was being tickled seven times over. The soft-stiff tip of a feather ran over her bare soles, up and down, and back and forth, wandering endlessly. At the same time, gentle ogre fingers and tickle-implements held in clever ogre hands were gently teasing the bare soles of the illusions. And Merci felt those as well, as if they were tickling her own feet.
It wasn't just her feet being tickled. Merci could feel tickle sensations pouring in all over her naked skin. Both directly and through the six Merci-illusions. Soft brushes ran over her in long squirmy strokes. Harder implements teased with gentle pokes and light quick flicks. Fingers wiggled, and a half-dozen other implements each applied their own tickle-sensations to the mix. Seven times over.
Merci giggled and giggled and giggled as the varied tickle-sensations ran up and down her legs. Behind her knees, and across her hips. Around and around her belly-button, and gently digging within it. Light strokes and firm strokes ran up and down her sides, and up and down her arms. A downy teasing touch brushed between her breasts, and around, and over them. The ogres were tickling her all over, seven times over as she struggled and squirmed in useless attempts to escape the tickling. The Merci-illusions squirmed as well, uselessly and worse than uselessly. Merci could feel their helpless struggles too, as if they were her own, and the helplessness, the vulnerability of all that nude skin made her ever more acutely aware of the tickle-flow. The more Merci struggled, the more sensitive she seemed to become. Yet she could not make herself hold still. Not against that tickling.
Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle. Seven times over.
Princess Alisha was also enduring a seven-fold tickling. She howled with laughter at the wild, impossible tickle-sensations she felt dancing across her. But her laughter was brief; Chup soon gagged her with a clean, knotted cloth. Then she could only mew, her giggles held maddeningly inside her, as Chup and his ogres inflicted tickles on her. More and more and more tickles.
Alisha could hear the merry, excited giggles of her lady in waiting, and the matching giggles from the six Merci-illusions. She could tell that Merci was being tickled all over, everywhere at once, and the knowledge would have made her squirm in sympathy if she weren't already squirming harder from her own tickling.
Unlike Merci, Alisha wasn't being tickled all over, all at once. Chup and his ogres instead applied a different technique, one that they had found, during Alisha's captivity, to work better on her. They would alternate between the soles of her feet and the rest of her body, and between the different parts of her upper body. Legs, arms, belly, sides, hips... Each were tickled in turn, as Alisha squirmed and wiggled, mewing into her gag, prevented even from laughing at the tickles she received.
This time, however, the tickle-sensations came to Alisha through the six Alisha-illusions as well as through her own naked skin. It was maddening, even more than the gag that restricted her to helpless mewing. The foot-tickling, for example, consisted of fingers raking up and down her soles, and of a soft feather meandering over her instep, and of a brush wisking back and forth, working up and down from balls to heel and back again, and of a set of light, quick flicking strokes with the edge of a wooden spoon, and of a teasing poke-poke-poke-poke with the quill end of another feather, and of a silken square of cloth being pulled between her toes, and of that demonic knobby roller rolling over her soles. All at once, with each tickle-type driving her mad with the way it reinforced the next.
Alisha experienced that same seven-fold reinforcement as she felt her arms being tickled, and her knees, her sides, and her belly. When her hips were tickled, she though she would explode. She tried to scream with laughter, bucking and twisting, but her gag reduced it to just another mew, and her bonds held her helplessly in place, leaving her completely vulnerable to that excruciatingly delicious seven-fold tickling.
The tickling continued for far longer than Alisha thought it possibly could. All the ogres could tickle them, all at once, thanks to the illusions, and the multiplied tickle-sensations all poured into Alisha and Merci. Both young women twisted and squirmed, under that tickling, until they grew hot and flushed red, their skin glistening with sweat. The tickling continued, and still they struggled, with no sign of weakening, even as tears of laughter ran down their faces. It seemed impossible that those female bodies could continue to put forth such efforts. Yet they did: Wild, desperate, energetic struggles that went on and on, and that came to nothing as the two women remained secured in place, helpless and vulnerable to the tickling.
The tickle session only ended when the illusions vanished. The ogres drew back with an "Ooooh!" Then they began to applaud, clapping their hands and hooting. Chup and Maark came forward to release Alisha and Merci, who now sagged, limp and drained. Wrapped in a blanket, Alisha felt herself being carried to the familiar ogre's cot, and saw Merci being laid in another cot beside hers. She felt Chup brush the hair from her face, a touch that felt nothing at all like tickling, and she fell asleep with the sound of the ogre's applause in her ears.
"Wake up little sorceress."
Alisha opened her eyes at Maark's familiar voice. She sat up, missing something, and then realized that the gilded chains she had slept in for the past forty days no longer secured her.
"Yes, little sorceress," Maark confirmed. "Lord Tonoforu has arrived. Your father has paid your ransom." He held out a pair of shoes, looking small in his large hands. They were clunky, practical peasant's shoes, the shoes Alisha had been wearing when captured. The shoes that she hadn't even seen for the past forty days.
Alisha took them and put them on, and only then did she realize: Her captivity in Chup's hands was over. She wouldn't be tickled today.
The End
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Princess Alisha's Ransom - Part 5 (conclusion)
by Sablesword
Three nights after the mock auction, the Sorceress Princess Alisha lay on the oversized ogre's cot, and dreamed.
It was the thirty-sixth night of her captivity, and she was a sorceress again, as well as a captive princess. Chup would give her permission to cast this spell or that, and she would do so. But she longed for the tickling to stop, she told herself, so that her sorcery would no longer depend on her captor's permission.
If she were sold from the block in Ranchijammu, she would need permission from her new owner to cast spells. But she wouldn't be sold there. She wouldn't be sold at all. Her father would pay her ransom, and she would return to the palace at Cherry Delving. The effects of forty days of tickling would fade, and she would once again be able to cast spells at her own whim, rather than that of her captor and owner.
In her dream, however, Alisha did not return to her father's palace. She was in Ranchijammu - in a painting of that city she had once seen - standing nude on a slave rug, on the auction block. The auctioneer was Lord Tonoforu, one of her father's ministers. He stood at the auctioneer's lectern, taking bids. Alisha tried to protest and found herself gagged. "Mmmph!" she said.
Lord Tonoforu turned a stern face to Alisha. "Now now, Your Highness. You have a duty to defer to the wisdom of your elders." He then went back to taking bids.
The crowd bidding on her were all ogres. Maark and the other ogres from Chup's bandit camp waved their large hands with their thick and skillful fingers, and shouted out sums of gold. "Sold!" Lord Tonoforu called out, but Alisha couldn't tell who had made the winning bid, or what it had been.
Then the dream changed. Alisha found herself dressed again, wearing the odd clothing of those odd Westerners she had once met, a "skirt" and a "blouse" of wool and linen. And sandals. And chains fettering her wrists and ankles. Chup was leading her forward, then carrying her into a brick building in a Westerner town full of brick buildings.
Chup wore Westerner clothing as well, but he kept his on when they entered the building. Alisha's clothing and chains all vanished, leaving her nude. Chup set her on a padded bench of leather and polished wood, and strapped her down.
Alisha squirmed. Chup said nothing, but merely gave her that calm, exasperating look. Machinery appeared around them, the clockwork devices that Westerners were so skilled at producing. But these devices all formed a single tickle-device; one aimed at Alisha's nude body.
Alisha squirmed again, and tried to wake up. But the dream held her. Chup smiled at her, a superior, exasperating smile, and operated controls. The clockwork began to move. She saw the brushes and feathers rotate and wiggle, moving with implacable, inhuman endurance, driven, Alisha knew with dream-knowledge, by an unseen waterwheel outside the building. She felt a vibration between her legs: Chup's device, but now driven by the unending power of a flowing river, rather than by the limited force of a wound-up spring. The machine's brushes and feathers came closer. Closer. Closer.
They made contact, tickling Alisha all over her naked skin, her helpless body. She screamed with laughter. She strained at the straps keeping her captive, but the straps did not give way. She tried to break out of the dream, to wake up, but the dream continued to hold her. She knew then, with dream-logic, that she would not wake up until the dream had finished with her, until the tickling had ended.
That seemed a long way away, an endless way away to Alisha. Brushes with soft bristles and with stiff bristles tickled the soles of her feet. Tickled her insteps, and her heels. The balls of her feet and her toes, and the spaces between them. Feathers and spinning woolen balls tickled sides of her legs, and her hips. Across her belly. Up and down her ribs. And her arms, stretched over her head. Around her breasts and over them. Behind her knees and on her kneecaps. The vibrating device between her legs pulsed against her most sensitive places, and those places grew even more sensitive as the tickling continued.
Alisha fought against the straps once more, and once more found struggling to be useless. The brushes and feathers and other implements continued to tickle her bare skin, driven by the untiring power of the water wheel. Their touch moved over her body in a pattern, and Chup, at the control levers, kept that pattern just predictable enough to make Alisha cringe with anticipation, and just variable enough to keep her guessing.
Laughter poured out of Alisha, from tickling too hot to be blissful. She felt the soft brushes and the stiff brushes chase each other over her soles, and she squirmed and writhed, unable to keep herself from doing so. The tickle-implements teasing the rest of her body drew back, so that all her attention was on her feet. Brush brush brush brush brush brush, the soft and stiff bristles touched every spot on the vulnerable soles of her feet. And then they did so a second time. And a third.
Finally the tickling brushes drew back, as Chup glanced over at Alisha and adjusted his controls. A new set of feathery ticklers moved in, ringing her ankles. Another adjustment of the controls and they stroked and wiggled, and began to slowly move up her body. She giggled and struggled, and once again the leather bonds held her in place, making her struggles useless.
The ring of feathery ticklers moved slowly up her legs, and Alisha could not escape their tickling touch. They moved past her knees, and she still could not escape them. They crept up her thighs, and avoiding their tickle-touch was impossible. Up to her hips, and she wished for them to hurry on to her less-ticklish belly. They reached her belly, and Alisha howled with laughter. She must have been mad, to have wished for this.
Over her breasts and up the sides of her ribs the feathery tickles creeped. They reached her shoulders and neck, and then began to move slowly back down her body. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!" Chup smirked at her from his controls. The device between her legs began to thrumb, a deep-pitched vibration driven by the tireless turning of the main axle that powered the entire tickle-machine. Alisha struggled to press herself against that vibrating device between her legs.
And then she woke up.
"Hssss. Oooooh!" Alisha was too frustrated to even speak. She felt her face grow hot, and her hands balled into fists. She pulled, hard, at the gilded cuffs and chains holding her captive on the oversized ogre's cot.
She had woken up too soon, and now it was morning. Maark came over to apply her morning foot-tickling. "Don't say anything," Alisha told him before he could give his usual morning greeting. "Just. Don't."
#
On the fortieth morning of her captivity, Princess Alisha enjoyed a hot bath instead of a foot-tickling. She had cast spells - at Chup's orders - to produce temporary screens that let her take that bath in private. As on the several previous days, she felt a mix of pleasure at using her magic and annoyance at needing Chup's permission to do so.
The bath itself was a pure pleasure, or nearly so. The only thing missing was Merci fussing over her. She missed her lady in waiting. And she would miss Chup, after he received her ransom. Maybe, she could convince her father to turn Chup over to her, as a prisoner, after her father had hunted him down. But that still wouldn't be the same.
Alisha toweled herself dry, and put on a clean set of green-and-white pajamas, along with a pair of sandals. She then dismissed the illusionary curtains that had provided her privacy in her bath. An ogre waited there, a guard against any foolish attempt on her part to escape. Chup stood there as well, to escort her to where his henchogre Maark was talking with a familiar but totally unexpected figure.
"Merci!" Alisha called as she hurried over. "What are you doing here?"
"Your Highness." Lady Merci made a formal courtesy to Princess Alisha, just as if they were in her father's court rather than a bandit's camp. "Prince Chup." She made a formal courtesy to the bandit prince as well. "I bring honorable greetings from Lord Tonoforu. And I come to beg a boon." She took a breath. "It is expected that Lord Tonoforu will arrive before sunset, with the ransom agreed upon: Forty thousand silvers of the South, for the release of my lady the Princess Alisha. Yet it is feared that he may be slightly delayed on the road, and so miss the time appointed for the delivery of the ransom. Should it fall so, the Lady Merci begs that the noble Prince Chup should stay his hand, for a brief time, and preserve the Princess Alisha from the terrible fate of the unransomed."
"How very formal," Chup said drily. "But yes, I am willing to wait four more days before selling her Highness in Ranchijammu - on two conditions." He watched Lady Merci closely, but she did not react. "First. You, Lady Merci, must stay here as well. If Lord Tonoforu arrives within three days and pays the ransom for Her Highness, then you may return with her. If he does not, then you will be sent to Ranchijammu along with Alisha, and I will receive the price of two pretty slavegirls instead of one. Second -"
"No!" Alisha cried out. "Chup! You didn't capture Merci; she came to parley. You must send her back to Lord Tonoforu."
"Your Highness," Merci said. "If I can keep you from being sold in Ranchijammu by being a hostage, then it's my duty to stay. If I can't, then there are worse fates than for me to be sold there as well."
Maark, looming silently over this conversation, suddenly smacked his lips. "Sold from auction blocks," he said. "With no clothes on." He switched languages. «Little Sorceress, you will feel better if Lady Merci is not sold beside you in Ranchijammu. But she will feel worse. »
Alisha nodded, tight lipped. Chup said, "Glad that's settled, then. Now for my second condition. If Lord Tonoforu doesn't arrive by sunset, then I will want a further forfeit from you two." He explained his idea.
"No!" This time it was Merci who protested. "It's, it's, it's a spectacle. You'll make a spectacle out Her Highness."
"And isn't that traditional for hostages awaiting ransom?" Alisha asked. Her good humor had returned with Merci's sputtering. "There was Lady Eunene when she was captured by Lord Jung, and what Lord Sun had Lady Yuna do when she was a hostage, and you told me yourself about Lady Bobana and Lady Lolana when -"
"All right," Merci gave in. "But not a moment before sunset, Prince Chup, not a moment before."
Chup just smiled at Merci's glare, and spread his hands in agreement.
#
The sun touched the horizon, dropped below it. The ogres lit torches, except for one ogre-shaman who continued chanting, casting a ritual spell he had started three hours ago. Alisha and Merci sat on a blanket-padded bench, and when the torches were all lit Chup grinned at them and pointed to the ground. Alisha stood and stripped, leaving her green and white pajamas on the spot where Chup had pointed. She saw Merci doing the same, more slowly.
Alisha sat back on the bench, with Merci beside her, and the ogres moved to bind them. Alisha felt the snugness of the cloth slings around her ankles, and watched as the ogres fastened them beneath a horizontal beam in front of the bench. Merci's ankles were bound the same way, and her upper body was tied to a vertical pole behind her, with her arms above her head. Another pole rose behind Alisha - she could feel it against her back, but the ogres did not tie her there - yet.
"Go ahead and cast the spells as I told you to," Chup said. That, Alisha knew, was why her arms were still free. She needed them for spellcasting. She waited a moment for the ogre-shaman to finish his own spell, an aiding spell. She felt its power flow into her. She could use that power in one way only: To cast the spells that Chup had commanded her to cast.
Alisha gestured and spoke Words. She cast the spell slowly, carefully, so as to increase its duration. Then she cast it again. And again. Six castings total. When she finished, Chup stepped forward to bind her to her own post behind her, her arms over her head, just like Merci. Helpless and vulnerable to a tickling. Just like Merci.
All around her Alisha saw - and felt - the ogres to the same for the illusionary figures she had produced. Six copies of herself and Merci, sitting naked and bound and vulnerable. Enough naked girl-skin for all the ogres to tickle, all at once. And all the tickling inflicted on the illusionary Alisha's would be felt by Alisha herself. And likewise, Alisha knew, for Merci and the illusions of her.
"It is past sunset, and Lord Tonoforu has not arrived with the ransom," Chup announced. "So let the forfeit begin!"
"Hooraaah!" the ogres cheered. "Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! Hoot!" With their fingers, and with feathers, and with various other implements they began to tickle. A chorus of laughter rose from the two trapped human women and their dozen illusionary counterparts.
#
Lady Merci, in the service to the Sorceress Princess Alisha, knew she was going mad. She wasn't just being tickled, she was being tickled seven times over. The soft-stiff tip of a feather ran over her bare soles, up and down, and back and forth, wandering endlessly. At the same time, gentle ogre fingers and tickle-implements held in clever ogre hands were gently teasing the bare soles of the illusions. And Merci felt those as well, as if they were tickling her own feet.
It wasn't just her feet being tickled. Merci could feel tickle sensations pouring in all over her naked skin. Both directly and through the six Merci-illusions. Soft brushes ran over her in long squirmy strokes. Harder implements teased with gentle pokes and light quick flicks. Fingers wiggled, and a half-dozen other implements each applied their own tickle-sensations to the mix. Seven times over.
Merci giggled and giggled and giggled as the varied tickle-sensations ran up and down her legs. Behind her knees, and across her hips. Around and around her belly-button, and gently digging within it. Light strokes and firm strokes ran up and down her sides, and up and down her arms. A downy teasing touch brushed between her breasts, and around, and over them. The ogres were tickling her all over, seven times over as she struggled and squirmed in useless attempts to escape the tickling. The Merci-illusions squirmed as well, uselessly and worse than uselessly. Merci could feel their helpless struggles too, as if they were her own, and the helplessness, the vulnerability of all that nude skin made her ever more acutely aware of the tickle-flow. The more Merci struggled, the more sensitive she seemed to become. Yet she could not make herself hold still. Not against that tickling.
Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle. Seven times over.
#
Princess Alisha was also enduring a seven-fold tickling. She howled with laughter at the wild, impossible tickle-sensations she felt dancing across her. But her laughter was brief; Chup soon gagged her with a clean, knotted cloth. Then she could only mew, her giggles held maddeningly inside her, as Chup and his ogres inflicted tickles on her. More and more and more tickles.
Alisha could hear the merry, excited giggles of her lady in waiting, and the matching giggles from the six Merci-illusions. She could tell that Merci was being tickled all over, everywhere at once, and the knowledge would have made her squirm in sympathy if she weren't already squirming harder from her own tickling.
Unlike Merci, Alisha wasn't being tickled all over, all at once. Chup and his ogres instead applied a different technique, one that they had found, during Alisha's captivity, to work better on her. They would alternate between the soles of her feet and the rest of her body, and between the different parts of her upper body. Legs, arms, belly, sides, hips... Each were tickled in turn, as Alisha squirmed and wiggled, mewing into her gag, prevented even from laughing at the tickles she received.
This time, however, the tickle-sensations came to Alisha through the six Alisha-illusions as well as through her own naked skin. It was maddening, even more than the gag that restricted her to helpless mewing. The foot-tickling, for example, consisted of fingers raking up and down her soles, and of a soft feather meandering over her instep, and of a brush wisking back and forth, working up and down from balls to heel and back again, and of a set of light, quick flicking strokes with the edge of a wooden spoon, and of a teasing poke-poke-poke-poke with the quill end of another feather, and of a silken square of cloth being pulled between her toes, and of that demonic knobby roller rolling over her soles. All at once, with each tickle-type driving her mad with the way it reinforced the next.
Alisha experienced that same seven-fold reinforcement as she felt her arms being tickled, and her knees, her sides, and her belly. When her hips were tickled, she though she would explode. She tried to scream with laughter, bucking and twisting, but her gag reduced it to just another mew, and her bonds held her helplessly in place, leaving her completely vulnerable to that excruciatingly delicious seven-fold tickling.
#
The tickling continued for far longer than Alisha thought it possibly could. All the ogres could tickle them, all at once, thanks to the illusions, and the multiplied tickle-sensations all poured into Alisha and Merci. Both young women twisted and squirmed, under that tickling, until they grew hot and flushed red, their skin glistening with sweat. The tickling continued, and still they struggled, with no sign of weakening, even as tears of laughter ran down their faces. It seemed impossible that those female bodies could continue to put forth such efforts. Yet they did: Wild, desperate, energetic struggles that went on and on, and that came to nothing as the two women remained secured in place, helpless and vulnerable to the tickling.
The tickle session only ended when the illusions vanished. The ogres drew back with an "Ooooh!" Then they began to applaud, clapping their hands and hooting. Chup and Maark came forward to release Alisha and Merci, who now sagged, limp and drained. Wrapped in a blanket, Alisha felt herself being carried to the familiar ogre's cot, and saw Merci being laid in another cot beside hers. She felt Chup brush the hair from her face, a touch that felt nothing at all like tickling, and she fell asleep with the sound of the ogre's applause in her ears.
#
"Wake up little sorceress."
Alisha opened her eyes at Maark's familiar voice. She sat up, missing something, and then realized that the gilded chains she had slept in for the past forty days no longer secured her.
"Yes, little sorceress," Maark confirmed. "Lord Tonoforu has arrived. Your father has paid your ransom." He held out a pair of shoes, looking small in his large hands. They were clunky, practical peasant's shoes, the shoes Alisha had been wearing when captured. The shoes that she hadn't even seen for the past forty days.
Alisha took them and put them on, and only then did she realize: Her captivity in Chup's hands was over. She wouldn't be tickled today.
The End
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