Premature User
Registered User
- Joined
- Sep 8, 2014
- Messages
- 21
- Points
- 0
(Writer's Note: This story is purely for the enjoyment of people who take pleasure in both tickling related stories, and lengthy novels... while tickling content is included, the most important element with this for me is story and content, so if anyone wishes for me to continue with this upon reading, please leave feedback, as it is the level of feedback which will have me deciding whether or not to continue on with the show. Thanks again for reading this, and I hope you enjoy!)
Labeled as a curious little species, the ‘Feld’ were known as the ‘rascals of the vineyard’… not unlike the difference between fine wine, and a strong gin that could knock you flat on your ass. They were not unlike the humanoid version of Gypsies, with an ideology of mischief that surpassed the need for social conformity.
It’s also why the Feld were sought out as the planet’s best thieves, assassins, and all-around Jack of all Trades; obviously pursuing feats which fit their physical stamina and dexterity, as they seemed to possess an almost unnatural sense of acrobatic feat.
Whether or not the Feld were a species originated from this planet was up to question though, since no official records for the planet of Omicron existed beyond the eleventh cycle (each cycle consisting of fifty years). The original trade routes which once made Omicron a huge stop for interstellar travel had soon become desolate when the Fifth Moon orbiting the planet was depleted of all resources, and nobody was willing to try and harvest the minerals from Omicron due to the dropping temperatures around the more ‘arctic’ regions, which could get as cold as -100 degrees Celsius, making conditions incredibly difficult for even advanced equipment to operate for more than maybe minutes at a time before it would freeze over and damage.
Unfortunately, when interstellar travel managed to leave the planet, so did any chance Omicron citizens had of doing exactly the same… the colonies were left alone, and the only way the people had to survive was through the method of steam farms which allowed them to cultivate and thrive on the only warm region of the planet; a section stretching more than 500 miles across the North Pole, where conditions were tolerable, even warm.
A vast number of Feld settlers—on pilgrimage with the commerce traffic—managed to make a home on Omicron, and then were inevitably stuck with the humanoid species which looked just as the Feld did, save for the exception that the Feld had substantially darker skin, almost mocha. Average citizens could get as dark as olive due to the sun, but nothing beyond. The Feld just held natural chocolate and Mocha colors in a blended variety, and the most defining trait was that raven-black hair. Not a single Feld had any other color—not even premature gray.
Now there were fewer than four or five million citizens in all, including the stragglers and the newborns that were popping up from developing families… a seemingly large population, but nothing in comparison to how it would drop should conditions on the planet grow worse.
The last surviving hope was the air-ship trade… vast vehicles of steam and mechanics which allowed them to travel above the cold atmosphere of the planet surface and engage in commerce on the other side of the planet through long and fruitful journeys to the South Pole, where the second of two suns orbited around. Being the brightest, the land mass around the South Pole burned brighter, and gave a larger area for people to populate, and even migrate for work and trade of goods. There was even the workings of interstellar travel commencing there, where the higher class of citizenry existed.
As such, three major companies existed which provided this air ship service… not to mention dozens upon hundreds of pirates that free-roamed the skies above the freezing cold atmosphere.
This was Omicron’s last vestige of hope in improving their circumstance, and the only chance they had at surviving long enough for technology to be created that would ‘lift’ them from this icy dungeon, and allow the citizens to leave and re-populate on another inhabitable planet.
But for now… as such was life, especially for people like Esmeralda, also known as Ezzie—an interesting, if not troublesome Feld—who made a life for herself quite by accident, on an interstellar transport which came to Omicron, not knowing that its original trade hub had long since ceased. So when she arrived after granting the promise of riches to the transport captain, she was thoroughly ‘dumped’ on its surface, and forced to carve a life out for herself.
This is Ezzie’s story…
Though that was still a bit of a misconception to consider… they call it ‘troublemaking’, but Ezzie called it living, not unlike the conventional form of primitive survival. While this grand new world of hers offered infinite possibilities—which were limited if you really looked at it—it was still based loosely off of the concept of already being well-off.
So when Ezzie was dropped off, she had to rely purely on those instincts to pull herself out from the slump of becoming a full time bum, which meant the less acceptable craft of stealing… with style…
Today it was just the idea of making her daily bread that led Ezzie to the market in conspicuous fashion. Due to the dark hair and skin of the Feld, they could easily stick out like a glove, and a population of over ten million, maybe only one million of that were Feld citizens, all of whom were ‘required’ to register themselves, if they were ever discovered.
The Feld Citizen Registry only accounted for maybe 300,000 Feld Citizens, leaving the rest underground and sheltered.
Lighter style shoes were worn which had been crafted for mobility, not unlike a slip-on with a bit of a lip to cover the ankle against the harsh climates. For the top-wear, she acquired a matching blouse to her pants, and an overcoat tunic which hung as low as her knees, with a built in hood to throw over when the winds were to pick up. It was an average outfit which suited almost more than a dozen citizens at a time per every five square blocks, and the ‘dirty’ state of affairs her clothes were in also made for a visual that had her easily dismissed before anyone caught the draping locks of her bangs over the deep chocolate skin, or piercing emerald eyes which were a trait signature of all Feld—not all with emerald colors, but the physiology of the species gave a crystalline glow to the iris, which painted it very light, very reflective shades. A Feld with blue eyes-for instance-might show crystal blue in appearance.
When she finally made it to the marketplace, Ezzie had scoped out a nearby bakery which was part of a row of shops, all of which was under ownership of a single individual. She knew the woman—though not personally. Leslie… Leslie Monroe, a humanoid species claiming her origins from the planet Earth, a claim that few could question when it came to similar species… mainly because ‘Humans’ from the aptly named planet of Earth had been known for their voraciousness and cruelty according to historical accounts, not many official records existed anymore.
But Ezzie knew her because she frequented this region often, and on more than one occasion had she stolen from Leslie’s bakery under the premise that a rich girl could offer a little charity now and again… she certainly made a profit from her business ventures, otherwise how could a simple human woman afford such luxuries as a large compound further inland towards the center of the sun’s reflection where it was warmest?
She might be pushing her luck in frequently visiting-and stealing from-Leslie’s shops, but her own lucrative business of petty theft was offering up nothing, if not many dead-ends as pawn shops only took in so much merchandise from a single client before questioning its origins.
Swift as a hawk, she easily ‘blended’ in with the citizens around as she followed a small band of five people heading loosely in the same direction. Where the trick came in was that she had to ‘swoop’ in and scoop up her prize and make it back to the crowd before she was spotted.
Ezzie was at her destination soon enough, and she managed to align herself… just a few easy steps… ‘Don’t botch this girl… if Leslie catches you-you won’t get another chance to correct—shit!’ her eyes went wide, and her body frozen… she was going for something simple like a loaf of bread, but her nimble, slender digits weren’t even around their prize in full before she saw herself staring down the business end of a blaster repeater, and the woman shop-owner herself (Leslie) standing just behind it.
“Fool me twelve times, shame on you… fool me thirteen!...” her eyes rolling slightly in a sardonic expression before she just gestured with a loose flick of her wrist. “I’m against capital punishment, but in this case you might want to just ‘cooperate’ with me lest I shoot you down dead and claim self-defense.”
She couldn’t even talk… the woman was just frozen in place, and all over a loaf of bread… ‘Well to be fair it was more like five loaves of bread, a whole wheel of cheese, twenty or so cans of condensed food, two radishes, a steam condenser, ten bags of bagels, a broadcast radio amplifier—‘
“MOVE!”
‘Right…’
She was careful in raising her hands up now as some of the whimsy got back into her step, and that pearly white smile was plastered across her face. “Right, right… it’s cool; we’ll just go and ‘talk’ about this…” her voice, a definite ‘mature’ tone that held such a sultry allure it could even make a grown woman blush, and Leslie was not entirely against the charms herself.
“I’m sure we can,” she replied curtly, and waited for Esmeralda to step within range before the woman suddenly struck down against Ezzie’s neck and shoulder, knocking her out cold, “just not today.”
Well… not all charm had the same effect…
And not all charm caused her to suddenly suffer a blow to the head that would knock her ass out. She felt maybe a twinge of pain before she dropped like a sack of potatoes, and was forced to lay in absent wonder for her split-second consciousness; just what is so important about a loaf of fucking bread?!
Still, the blow was enough to knock Ezzie out for almost hours at a time, and her ‘host’ didn’t seem none too quick to wake her up either… brought in and strapped to a rather ‘crude’ device which bound her ankles in a pair of steel stocks, padded for mild comfort.
Her attire had been stripped down, leaving much of that same chocolate skin bare as hands were bound behind the small of her back, and cinched together at the elbow to prevent further movement. Fortunate for Ezzie, she dressed for the climate, and slightly baggy wool shorts were infinitely more practical, as was a cotton chest wrap which covered her ‘modesty’. That just left the shoes on her feet, and the welt to her neck and shoulder which made the woman stir most uncomfortably, up to the point of that first emerald eye cracking open.
“Well… this is new…” much like before, Ezzie had the ability to keep calm amidst dangerous circumstances. One might say the only reason she ‘froze’ on the spot before was more in line with getting ambushed by surprised; just how many people were held at gunpoint over a loaf of bread? “It wasn’t the most amicable choice of thefts I’ll grant you, but maybe this is going a little too far? Last time I saw a dungeon, my ‘lover’ was antiquating me to the finer points of Chakra stimulation…”
“And I’m sure that ‘stimulation’ wasn’t intended to center you…” Leslie replied, hovering somewhere nearby…
Ezzie had the feeling, but she didn’t quite ‘see’ her captor right away, hence the absent talking… and while the notion of the equipment spoke of a more sinister nature, the room she was in could hardly be described as a ‘dungeon’: lavished in all the obvious fixings of someone living high off the hog (curious human term), and even with an oversized chair which dominated the center of the room, just one giant mattress which Ezzie was poised on as she attempted to sit up, putting strain on her wrists as palms lay flat behind her, looking ahead at the toe of her shoes. “Oh we fucking centered each-other alright… all afternoon and late into the evening at that.”
Leslie gave off a quaint little smile, and finished her mixture of an alcoholic beverage to the left of where Ezzie was restrained. “I’m sure it was epic.”
“Asking for a personal demonstration?”
“No, not quite…” Leslie laughed, and sauntered back over to the mattress as she took residence next to her bound captive. “Must admit I am a little jealous… for a while I thought my skin had a natural dark glow to it, but your people are absolutely radiant…”
Always nice to be referred to as 'your people', but she wasn’t in a position to state her objections about political correctness right now, so maybe another time...
“It’s certainly entertaining, and I don’t consider myself one to swing to left field… but hey—stranger things have happened…” she purred, and one couldn’t mistake the accent to her tone. Only true bred humans had an accent anymore, and hers was certainly one to leave her under notice. “But what’s important now is that you explain to me something; who is hiring you to steal from my shop?”
The sardonic expression wasn’t enough… Ezzie was almost downright awe-struck now… “So we’re in the cloak-and-dagger phase of your little setup because I decided to take a few loaves of bread? Man, you guys must be fucking bored… at least the shop keep a few miles South has the audacity to try and chase me off with a bat if ever he were wise enough to see me-HEY!” She suddenly yelped.
A slight moment of anger had Leslie grabbing a tusk of hair, tugging with enough force to send a stinging jolt down the woman’s scalp as her face contorted in both surprise and mild pain.
“I repeat: who hired you?” even more eerie that Leslie could take on such a calm tone, as the bitch even took a sip of her drink while ‘forcing’ Ezzie to look at her.
“The hell are you talking about?!” she balked… and like any good mischief maker, her attitude won out: “Bread: Loaf. OF. FOOD! I thought the natural instinct of ‘starving belly’ would be enough to explain motive.”
But Leslie was angry again, and threw her drink in Ezzie’s face as the girl gave another yelp, tugging her hair even harder as she climbed onto the bed, straddling the woman’s waist as one hand went diligently around her slender throat. “STOP FUCKING WITH ME CHILD!!” she suddenly roared!...
…and in that same lapse of insanity, looking right back at the fear in Ezzie’s eyes… she suddenly realized… “Oh… oh my…” she chuckled… and a chuckle soon turned to a laugh as she let the woman go, leaving her to collapse onto her back as her chest rose and fall from the asphyxiation not even a moment ago. “Oh this is just ‘too’ good… you don’t even know do you?” she asked, pointing a loose finger at her ‘captive’ as she was on the brink of hysterics.
Asking for trouble, she did so anyway… through a mild coughing fit, “Know what?”
“You don’t have… oh this is so good I’m almost bedazzled… you mean to say you don’t have a single clue as to what you were stealing when you took those bags of bagels from my shop? Oh God, if only Stan could hear about this!” she bellowed, and broke out into her harmonious laughter yet again.
‘God, the woman is a fucking loony-tune… the hell did you get in this time girl?’ “Yeah, ha-ha… all good fun, so maybe now we can talk about—“ a hand clamped over her lips now, and she found herself growing easily unsettled by the way Leslie’s hips were resting against her own; both sets of naked thighs, almost grinding each time the woman moved on top of her, causing an unpleasant stir of feelings.
“Shush! You’re annoying me…” she chided, and sat there with her hand over Ezzie’s mouth as her chin raised slightly in thought… perhaps even coming to terms with how to ‘deal’ with this situation.
When she was done ‘pondering’ or postulating, or whatever the fuck she was doing, she released her grip as her arms crossed over her chest… and in a slightly more disconcerting notion, the woman simply ‘leaned’ forward against Ezzie’s body, practically pressed against the top of her breasts while looking her eye-to-eye… now she had to stare Leslie in the face; those subtle features, the deep brown eyes… her slight auburn hair which wasn’t as voluminous as Ezzie’s, but held just enough curl that it wasn’t simply hanging straight down from her head. Very unsettling, but not without her own appeal that only further increased Ezzie’s discomfort.
“Of course now I have to go through the basis of ‘I don’t believe you’, blah, blah, blah… and while I consider myself a good judge of character, I can’t simply ignore the fact that—whether intentional or not—you stole from me, and some very valuable materials at that. The hell did you do with those bags of bagels anyway?”
A painful move to make, the girl tried—and failed—to shrug her shoulders as she replied simply… “Well… it was food, so I ate it.”
“WHAT?!” she barked, causing Ezzie’s head to sink further into the pillow.
…”Well the hell else do you do with food?!” she exclaimed in a slightly panicked tone, her lower lip in slight tremble.
But Leslie’s amusement knew no bounds… she chuckled again, soon turning to another bellow of laughter, all enough to make Ezzie stir uncomfortably under the woman’s near-nude body. “I’m just surprised you’re still alive after that… did you ever stop and question why we kept those bags of bagels hung up in the back room?... did you even think to consider ‘Gee, what are bagels doing hanging up in a room with no oven, and no cooking equipment’?”
The captive was still spell-bound, and with lips in a slight frown, she just shook her head slightly.
“You know what—“she said, and sat up on Ezzie’s waist again, “—doesn’t matter… what matters is that you ate” she couldn’t say that without giggling like a ninny… “the merchandise and you’re still alive, so all that’s left is what you owe me in return.”
“Okay… fucking weirdo…” she snipped, closing her mouth shortly after as she decided it best NOT to antagonize the woman holding her captive. “I can quickly gain the money back in no time, but it kinda requires… well…” and with that, her upper body gave a bit of a wiggle.
“Not the kind of payment I was talking about…”
The kind of words to make anyone nervous… “So now we’re back to you killing me over a few pieces of fucking bread again?! I’m tied up, you won! I have a god-damn migraine from that knock to the head, I’m still hungry, and you’re sitting here with all the fucking cash—the fuck can I do to pay you back from here?!” and by now she was yelling, her body giving off its first visual resistance as the antics of ‘bucking’ caused Leslie to slightly lose her balance, having to reach down and ‘grip’ the sides of the woman’s body to keep from flying off of her.
PING!
There was a loud yelp… Ezzie’s lips suddenly stuck in a partial smirk as her body stopped fidgeting, and her midsection shrank as far as it could away from Leslie’s fingers and into the seat beneath her…
‘God that fucking tickled!’
It hadn’t gone unnoticed, but at first Leslie didn’t quite know how to respond as her hands retracted suddenly, as though she just discovered that the fence she were attempting to climb was high voltage.
…and that’s when the cruel idea began to form, but not without some ‘foreplay’ in between though…
“Well you leave me in an awkward situation…”
“Yeah, you’re the one in an awkward situation, sure…” Ezzie replied tartly.
But Leslie continued as though she simply ‘didn’t hear’ what the other woman was saying… “Because I can’t just ‘let you go’ without some ample punishment, and if you do know something, well… it would be in my right to either kill you and keep that knowledge from getting out,”
“That would suck…”
“or just let you go with a fair warning… you species—you Feld—you really are quite intriguing…”
With only a raised brow to come to her defense, Ezzie began her uncomfortable shifting again, “Well I’m not a doctor, but unless you have a dildo strap laying around somewhere, I don’t think rape is quite on the table.”
“Could always just call my men in-one by one-to ravage you…”
That shut her up…
“But I’m not a sadist… not entirely… if I’m going to savor something, I’d rather do it personally.” She cooed, letting that quaint little smile curl her lips again as hands descended down to Ezzie’s outstretched torso… the pads of her fingers barely ‘feeling’ along the woman’s tone, slender little stomach.
“S-so then you do have a kinky side with t-t-the girls… don’t you?” while ultimately not her most favorable position, this was ultimately nicer in comparison to what full-scale rape or murder might be like… but damn if those fingers didn’t ignite every little nerve ending in her stomach, and Ezzie was soon fighting just to keep a smile from blossoming on her face.
“I do have my own kinks… but it’s not just with you girl…” she chided, letting that devious smile curl into a wicked grin as her nails finally touched down with a slight ‘hook’ against Ezzie’s sides, causing the woman’s body to fidget even more than before.
She could barely form words now… Lord… she didn’t even know if it was just the Feld that were sensitive, or if all humans suffered, but Ezzie had quite apparent memories of those from her past, and just what ‘being tickled’ did to her. Even now though, it wasn’t possible to think that Leslie was picking up on that… what were the odd chances that Ezzie wind up on a world where…
But the woman stopped… or more importantly, she ceased from those ticklish antics as she let her hands glide along Ezzie’s body instead… almost as if the woman were ‘feeling’ her up… and Leslie had her own hidden little secret that Ezzie might be able to relate to.
“So then the question is: what would be suitable to serve as a reminder that you—dear sweet Feld girl—should really consider never stepping foot in my shop ever again?” she queried, and finally—after what felt like an eternity—hefted her body off the bed as she scooped up her long since empty drinking glass, and ventured towards the bar again.
This left Ezzie practically stunned for a few moments, until she heard the loud SMACK of the glass bottom striking the tabletop. “What? I dunno… look; what’s wrong with just letting me go? We’ve established I don’t know anything…”
“Wrong! I’ve established that you’re very cunning in letting me think you don’t know anything, but I don’t survive solely off of a ‘gut’ feeling, girl…” she replied with a snide curl, fixing another drink for herself.
“So then where does that leave us?” she was almost afraid to ask, but it might give Ezzie a home front advantage to leave herself open for possibilities. Anything, if it meant getting out of this crazy woman’s home alive!
Leslie shrugged, her lips pursed slightly together in thought. “Well, it could mean convincing you what would happen if you set foot on my property again.”
“Erm, you already said that…”
“You misunderstand my meaning, please don’t interrupt again.”
Enough to shut the girl up, but now she was staring wide-eyed at the menacing woman hovering back over her body, and the closer Leslie got to the stocks binding her ankles, the more helpless she felt as she gave her involuntary ‘jerk’ of her legs to try and pull away.
“Whether or not I ‘swing into left field’ never really seems to be the issue… my real power is power itself…” she started, taking a sip—and giving off a very noticeable shiver of her body with the strength of her drink. “You tied up like this, me with my soldiers at the gate, my business ventures… I like anything that resembles how I am superior; over you, over the humanoids outside, over everything! The simple thought that I am in control is what I find appealing, and so by sheer sake of affiliation, one could claim that my attraction is on you right now, because the one thing I can hold over you right now is your captivity and fear… and that I love so very much…”
‘This woman is a fucking loon…’
She let out a sardonic sigh though, as though the woman were growing nostalgic of different times, “But even women in power such as myself have one undefinable kink in the armor; we have carnal desires that far surpass our wanton greed… tell me dear, since we’ve grown so ‘close’ in this short time… can you answer a question for me?”
“Not like I have a choice, but shoot…”
This led to the undoubtedly odd moment of Leslie suddenly grasping at the toe of Ezzie’s left shoe, and giving a playful little wiggle. “Have you ever had your feet tickled before?”
Incredulous as it sounded, the only comfort Ezzie had right now was her ability to lie… and in place of her eyes practically ‘bugging’ out of her skull, the woman was able to postulate an utterly incredulous tone that was dripping with distain and disgust… two things that she didn’t quite feel—not when she had fear and excitement crawling at her back door…
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she barked, and found the strength to practically sit upright now, “I’m struck over the head… questioned… hell, you even throw a drink in my God-damn face, and for what—so you can sit there and play with my feet?! THIS is your solution to warning me?! Jesus, if that was the case I’d have just taken my slippers off and said ‘Have at’ a long fucking time ago, instead of having you waste my time.”
A little strong, but as Ezzie knew, the best deterrent for some people was the thought that something that didn’t quite conform to social norms could be passed off as ‘odd’ and ‘weird’ by sheer association, and as such, the practice would go entirely unmissed because of an overwhelming sense of shame.
Sad for her, Leslie wasn’t easily swayed… “Honey, I never said anything about playing with your feet as suitable reprimand for your crimes… I simply inquired if you were ticklish; though I’m glad you consider the notion disgusting enough to try and pit me as a freak. Hell, it’s almost flattering,” she added as the woman was already halfway done with unzipping Ezzie’s left shoe while downing the rest of her drink, to which the glass was simply ‘tossed’ somewhere where it shattered heavily against a wall.
“The fuck do you expect? Going all cloak-and-dagger on me, and then you ask if my feet are ticklish?—Stop that, I wear those shoes for a reason you fucking weirdo…” she was chiding Leslie further, but only because she couldn’t face her own reality… the act of dominance was enough, but Leslie was right about one thing: everyone had their kink in the armor…
…And rightfully so…
Ezzie gave quite a bit of a fight for the battle of her shoe, but it was ultimately lost as the zipper along the back of it—while designed for thermal protection against moisture—did nothing to help her when Leslie simply ‘slipped’ it off… as such, all Ezzie could do now was watch with great fearful anticipation as the tips of her toes came into view, momentarily splayed after their brief bout with freedom.
Seemed only suiting that a control freak like Leslie had her own kinky little side… now staring down at the bound girl’s trapped foot, it was apparent to see that there was more than just an adverse ‘attraction’ taking place; the soft curve of the arch in modest but high fashion, and the slender form that made it almost seem narrow, with slightly long toes—the index toe more elongated and pronounced than the big one. There was an ethereal quality to it at that, as if the woman simply ‘floated’ on the balls of her heel… barely a size eight, they were almost the perfect contour to the Feld’s even more shapely ‘physique’…
…And the way Leslie was staring down at it, Ezzie almost felt violated from the sheer thought alone… but that was also under the assumption that the woman was genuinely disgusted by what Leslie was imposing.
And she wasn’t… not entirely anyway.
She always knew her share of suitors and their endless kinks, but none ever seemed to want to delve that far below the thighs. As such, the woman never really had a chance to consider the alternative… until it was staring her in the face, and Leslie slipped the other shoe off much without any resistance at all.
“It’s easy to call me a weirdo I’m sure, but hey; I’m the one with the gun,” she answered simply, and with a cozy little laugh as she pulled the weapon out that she originally held Ezzie up with originally before just absently ‘tossing’ it to the floor.
“You still have me stuck on the part where the grand scheme of all this was inevitably geared to play with some Feld girl’s feet…”
“Easy to see it that way, but I consider the latter an added bonus,” she said as she gently gripped Ezzie’s big toe on the right foot, and gave it another playful wiggle… the touch alone was enough to ignite a slight fidget, as though the very idea of Leslie touching her feet was causing bursts of static energy to form and cause her senses to tingle. “You have no choice, and I have no intention of setting you free without making sure you’re telling the truth—“ she held up a hand in that instance, “—Oh I thoroughly believe you so don’t worry… but ‘protocol’ dictates that I be sure… and it is the captor’s prerogative to do something fiendish.”
That swelling in her chest increased, and her attempts at escape were only further fueling the thought that she hadn’t a choice… anticipation was a cunning mistress after all. But all of this must have seemed so shocking on an outward scale, as Ezzie’s face betrayed nothing but a woman literally beside herself, despite the constant slam of her ankles with each new tug.
“You seem a little more ‘willing’ than those I’ve encountered in the past… it’s kind of flattering, especially since you have more shapely feet than others.”
“Other women? I might be jealous,” said out of spite, but said none the less… and almost in a tone dictating mischief…
“You shouldn’t be… I’ve done the same to men too, for you see; the quest for power holds no limits, no boundaries. If I want it, I simply ‘have’ it…”
“And what’s worse—being thought of as just another girl, or as just another thing to play with?”
“Deal with it however you want, call it whatever you want… my only interest is to hear you laugh… and by the Gods, you might even like it…”
A scoff at the very thought… but Ezzie already was at that point, even if mildly so; her ‘excitement’ rather well concealed behind the chest wrap. But what Leslie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her right? Not unlike Ezzie, and the welt against her neck.
“I figured we’d eventually hit that ‘kinky’ human side soon enough… pardon me while I express my utmost delight at picking my feet as the most lucrative point of sexual arousal for you.” Even with a blossoming anticipation growing, there was something inside of Ezzie that had her outwardly expressing her disinterest…
Hard to play this little game, since Ezzie still had to deal with conflicting emotions.
“More like a ‘private indulgence’ for me, if you insist on giving it a label,” Leslie corrected with a very pleasant smile, something to only ‘add’ to the growing anticipation as Ezzie shifted uncomfortably, now upright as her feet carefully curled inward and attempted to ‘shy’ away. But Leslie had already lowered herself into a comfortable seated position, and it made most of the girl vanish, save for the top of her head which barely poked out. “Feel free to get yourself comfortable though—we might be here a while, at least long enough for me to ensure that you never cross me again.”
That, mixed with the sudden ‘vanishing’ of the woman was like an icy clamp around Ezzie’s heart as her original anticipation was starting to blossom into slight mortal terror… she knew what Leslie’s intentions were sure enough, but there was also the foregone mystery that she might do more; she was in a position to harm Ezzie… inflict physical damage, or that—after making due with her threat—she would leave the poor girl utterly mortified from a possibly traumatic experience… and that didn’t sit well with her… “Maybe trade for something else! Being an ample thief I’m sure my prowess could more than acquire anything you want!” Last ditch effort, but Ezzie felt no other option, and doing nothing was bothering her even more; as could be said by the uncomfortable twist back and forth of her feet, the nervous shiver they gave off which was more than visible on those flawless beauties that barely shone a wrinkle in its name even when they curled forward.
The eyes of the hungry and the greedy, Leslie only saw a budding anticipation of her own, one that couldn’t be hindered anymore… and her breath was almost a tremble as a hand reached out carefully, and it wasn’t until two fingers touched against the girl’s heel that she heard a gasp, and saw a visible twitch which wracked the whole frame on its foundation.
“Aaahiiii-If I knehehew this was gonna happen over a loaf oooaaah—SHIT… NGHhhhhh… over a few loaves of fucking bread….” Don’t hate a woman for putting up a viable front of resistance, right? Even a simple touch like to her heel had the adequate response of causing the whole foot to tremble, almost frozen in place at first before the toes gave their macabre dance of the ticklish; shaking almost like a person’s hand when they've ingested too much caffeine… there was confusion in those digits, almost as if they didn’t know where to go, what to do… and even a touch so light and delicate as one on her heel had the woman practically beside herself with that racing sensation.
She couldn't even describe it… like words hadn't yet been formed which would go into vivid detail about ‘ticklish’ sensations… her nerve endings practically quivering almost on a microscopic level, and Ezzie had this vivid image of falling in her mind; her stomach lurching, and her mouth pressed shut in a single, grim line.
The woman wanted to burst out laughing, right from the starting gate, but something inside her refused—or just downright resisted, like a child holding her breath when she didn’t get the toy she wanted, and to make matters worse, she was more than visibly aware that she was nothing but some erotic display for the mad woman at the foot of the stocks… this tell-tale dance of human suffering which only further acted to excite and entice.
And yet… somewhere inside, Ezzie almost didn’t care about that…
Her body would say differently though, as if she only had those feet on display to portray any emotion, Leslie hadn’t even bothered to consider what was on the other side. She built the mental wall, in which those feet poking out were there to tell her everything; how the further along the instep she traveled, the other foot even seemed to fidget back and forth, twisting and rotating at the ankle in the hopeless, endless pursuit of freedom.
The assaulted foot was another story entirely though, as it seemed to be stuck in a state of panic to which the toes only mildly fluttered, as the rest of the sole was practically vibrating, with little patches of skin even twitching inward, like trying to collapse in on itself.
Slowly but surely though, inevitably the first bout of resolve was left to crumble and shatter, as Ezzie—with just one eye open, and a light sheen of sweat breaking out across her upper lip—was barely able to contain herself. Bugs under the skin, crawling everywhere… mostly inside her own stomach as that welling sensation was building ever so gradually, until such a time that the first tittering, giggling, bubbly bit of laughter finally managed to peek out.
Oh it tickled so much more than that though! But in the absence of holding a stoic face and firm jaw she was forced to let ‘something’ out, and it was just in the wake of nimble fingers being added into the mix.
“Please, don’t feel like you need to ‘hold back’ on my account… you should enjoy this light touch while it lasts, because I don’t intend to let you leave here until you understand just how serious I was about little Feld girls needing to mind their own business.” Words of comfort… Ezzie could thank her for it later, but she wasn’t going to give Leslie the satisfaction of her begging, even if she did break down into utter hysterics.
Which is precisely what happened when the woman suddenly began ‘raking’ her nails up and down those slender, petite arches of her… and you almost saw the whimsical cartoon version of Ezzie being electrocuted from the soles of her feet, the way she twitched and spasmed uncontrollably now, and the onslaught of throaty laughter was soon filling the room with a resounding forced mirth.
It made Ezzie’s head spin just from contact alone, and she didn’t even feel her body, or how her wrists strained against the bondage so much that they were growing sore. Nothing really existed quite so much as did that electrifying sensation shooting up from her poor, tender feet… and Leslie played them as though she were strumming the guitar; the right hand quite content in residing deep within her arch ‘God that spot tickled so much!’ while the other was looking for delicate places between the toes to wander in between.
It was an endless, vicious cycle, filled with the most dreaded of realities that her feet were hardly able to stage a resistance campaign against those hands… they would wiggle and flex accordingly almost, but there were times when there was acts of ‘surrender’ not unlike a willing host allowing themselves to be tortured:
Leslie would get between her toes, and obligingly they seemed to part… she would then focus on the arch, and a backwards flex followed by an absent back and forth sway was paramount.
Why couldn’t Ezzie fight back?!
It could have been the applied pressure of the padding around the stocks, cutting off circulation…
‘And THIS is your concern right now?! Girl you need to prioritize, cause if she keeps that up, she’s going to make us both go fucking mad!’ Leave it to the voice of reason to keep calm and cool under pressure.
“Okay, okay! Wait, we can break now right?! Please, just fucking stop!!!” her words so rushed and hurried that it came out in a blur, her face practically plastered in a huge, brimming grin. She was sucking down the addled panic she felt as another buildup of ticklish energy started to grow, and practically barked out in a sudden, if not slightly hoarse tone before literally ‘guffawing’, her body flopping back down on the bed like a fish dangling from a hook.
And how adorable her cute little feet were; her soles only slightly lighter than the tops, masking every line drawn by her fingers. It was almost time now, but there was no need for anyone to feel impatient, yes?
“AAAIIIIIEEE!” she suddenly screamed, and Leslie just gave an all-knowing grin. It would appear that Ezzie’s arches were a heightened point for her… but especially so, when reaching the most tender center of either point, where the woman’s already-soft skin became like clear satin, and digging a nail in at that heightened point was like jabbing her with a cattle prod that had her babbling and cackling several octaves higher than before… her once voluminous and shimmering hair now slowly becoming a matted patch of black plastered along her neck and forehead from the pooling sweat gathering.
“Okay-okay, fuAHAHAcking STAhap! YOU GODDAMN BI-HIHITCH!” she wailed as Leslie continued to ‘press’ the Feld girl’s buttons further… probably the only time she saw Ezzie’s feet come alive, as they were practically convulsing in any direction they could muster now… yet always forced to remain diligently poised and at the ready as the woman was hitting the near-center of Ezzie’s foot.
“I was beginning to wonder when I would hear the sweet, delightful little girl beg like that… might even be a personal best set, you should feel proud!” an excited announcement, and one that barely reached Ezzie’s ears as she was practically a living grin right now; to the point that the sides of her mouth began to hurt, and she could swear she felt sweat breaking out across her entire body, including—oh no—her erect fucking nipples…
Well, this was going to be a bit of a dilemma…
As of now though, Leslie was too well-consumed with the prospect of just playing with Ezzie’s feet to really notice anything from the top half, so unless the situation got steadily worse from… okay, seriously… perhaps it was never a good idea to ‘think’ of the possibilities…
Leslie, in all her infinite glory and fucked upedness, decided in that moment to indulge in another little notion. While Ezzie was fraught with the sensation her feet had provided, she had nothing to even grasp what she felt-physically or emotionally-when she felt the contours of a wet, raspy tongue suddenly dragging up and along the curve of her arch.
It was as though time had slowed to a crawl, and every little jagged tip of that tongue was digging into a nerve ending that was otherwise impossible to reach… ‘hugging’ Ezzie’s arch inescapably with a wanton lust that left Ezzie’s mouth in a wide O… her foot practically turning to stone as it tensed up, and her whole body suddenly let out a wail—no laughter, no screaming… just a bellowing cry not unlike a siren’s call which had her whole body arching off the bed, and her foot so poised it could almost be questioned whether she was ‘pressing’ into the woman’s silky tongue as it lapped past the arch finally, and ended at the tips of her toes, with an equal sizzle of sensation touching the ball of Ezzie’s delicate foot, causing her to ‘whoop’ out suddenly before she flopped onto the bed.
If her head was spinning before… she now had stars dancing in front of her eyes now…
“God, no-wait-WAIT! NO!” she screamed, her grin, her sudden gulping guffaw of laughter coming out again as Leslie went in for a second strike, and now she was nibbling down, her feet fitting so perfectly into the groove of the arch it was as though they had been shaped with Ezzie’s foot in mind, making matters worse in how she continued to lap and lick in between, and NOW she was most feverishly dragging her nails along the corresponding foot just to leave Ezzie in utter stitches… slamming her head down again, and again, and again as she began leaving a light pool of moisture in the wake of her perspiring neckline.
Eventually the poor girl was reaching a state of silent laughter, her chest hardly even quivering anymore as her face—already dark from her natural color—was going several shades darker from asphyxiation.
Maybe there was some truth to Leslie’s words though… if she kept up like this, there was no telling what Ezzie would do, just to make the sensation stop… or to beg that she keep going… such a mottled state of mind, the only reprieve she got from her plight was that all Ezzie had to do was endure this for however long it took—just so that she could walk out of this place alive and in-tact…
The Feld
Prologue
Prologue
Labeled as a curious little species, the ‘Feld’ were known as the ‘rascals of the vineyard’… not unlike the difference between fine wine, and a strong gin that could knock you flat on your ass. They were not unlike the humanoid version of Gypsies, with an ideology of mischief that surpassed the need for social conformity.
It’s also why the Feld were sought out as the planet’s best thieves, assassins, and all-around Jack of all Trades; obviously pursuing feats which fit their physical stamina and dexterity, as they seemed to possess an almost unnatural sense of acrobatic feat.
Whether or not the Feld were a species originated from this planet was up to question though, since no official records for the planet of Omicron existed beyond the eleventh cycle (each cycle consisting of fifty years). The original trade routes which once made Omicron a huge stop for interstellar travel had soon become desolate when the Fifth Moon orbiting the planet was depleted of all resources, and nobody was willing to try and harvest the minerals from Omicron due to the dropping temperatures around the more ‘arctic’ regions, which could get as cold as -100 degrees Celsius, making conditions incredibly difficult for even advanced equipment to operate for more than maybe minutes at a time before it would freeze over and damage.
Unfortunately, when interstellar travel managed to leave the planet, so did any chance Omicron citizens had of doing exactly the same… the colonies were left alone, and the only way the people had to survive was through the method of steam farms which allowed them to cultivate and thrive on the only warm region of the planet; a section stretching more than 500 miles across the North Pole, where conditions were tolerable, even warm.
A vast number of Feld settlers—on pilgrimage with the commerce traffic—managed to make a home on Omicron, and then were inevitably stuck with the humanoid species which looked just as the Feld did, save for the exception that the Feld had substantially darker skin, almost mocha. Average citizens could get as dark as olive due to the sun, but nothing beyond. The Feld just held natural chocolate and Mocha colors in a blended variety, and the most defining trait was that raven-black hair. Not a single Feld had any other color—not even premature gray.
Now there were fewer than four or five million citizens in all, including the stragglers and the newborns that were popping up from developing families… a seemingly large population, but nothing in comparison to how it would drop should conditions on the planet grow worse.
The last surviving hope was the air-ship trade… vast vehicles of steam and mechanics which allowed them to travel above the cold atmosphere of the planet surface and engage in commerce on the other side of the planet through long and fruitful journeys to the South Pole, where the second of two suns orbited around. Being the brightest, the land mass around the South Pole burned brighter, and gave a larger area for people to populate, and even migrate for work and trade of goods. There was even the workings of interstellar travel commencing there, where the higher class of citizenry existed.
As such, three major companies existed which provided this air ship service… not to mention dozens upon hundreds of pirates that free-roamed the skies above the freezing cold atmosphere.
This was Omicron’s last vestige of hope in improving their circumstance, and the only chance they had at surviving long enough for technology to be created that would ‘lift’ them from this icy dungeon, and allow the citizens to leave and re-populate on another inhabitable planet.
But for now… as such was life, especially for people like Esmeralda, also known as Ezzie—an interesting, if not troublesome Feld—who made a life for herself quite by accident, on an interstellar transport which came to Omicron, not knowing that its original trade hub had long since ceased. So when she arrived after granting the promise of riches to the transport captain, she was thoroughly ‘dumped’ on its surface, and forced to carve a life out for herself.
This is Ezzie’s story…
Chapter One: Some people were destined for Trouble
Though that was still a bit of a misconception to consider… they call it ‘troublemaking’, but Ezzie called it living, not unlike the conventional form of primitive survival. While this grand new world of hers offered infinite possibilities—which were limited if you really looked at it—it was still based loosely off of the concept of already being well-off.
So when Ezzie was dropped off, she had to rely purely on those instincts to pull herself out from the slump of becoming a full time bum, which meant the less acceptable craft of stealing… with style…
Today it was just the idea of making her daily bread that led Ezzie to the market in conspicuous fashion. Due to the dark hair and skin of the Feld, they could easily stick out like a glove, and a population of over ten million, maybe only one million of that were Feld citizens, all of whom were ‘required’ to register themselves, if they were ever discovered.
The Feld Citizen Registry only accounted for maybe 300,000 Feld Citizens, leaving the rest underground and sheltered.
Lighter style shoes were worn which had been crafted for mobility, not unlike a slip-on with a bit of a lip to cover the ankle against the harsh climates. For the top-wear, she acquired a matching blouse to her pants, and an overcoat tunic which hung as low as her knees, with a built in hood to throw over when the winds were to pick up. It was an average outfit which suited almost more than a dozen citizens at a time per every five square blocks, and the ‘dirty’ state of affairs her clothes were in also made for a visual that had her easily dismissed before anyone caught the draping locks of her bangs over the deep chocolate skin, or piercing emerald eyes which were a trait signature of all Feld—not all with emerald colors, but the physiology of the species gave a crystalline glow to the iris, which painted it very light, very reflective shades. A Feld with blue eyes-for instance-might show crystal blue in appearance.
When she finally made it to the marketplace, Ezzie had scoped out a nearby bakery which was part of a row of shops, all of which was under ownership of a single individual. She knew the woman—though not personally. Leslie… Leslie Monroe, a humanoid species claiming her origins from the planet Earth, a claim that few could question when it came to similar species… mainly because ‘Humans’ from the aptly named planet of Earth had been known for their voraciousness and cruelty according to historical accounts, not many official records existed anymore.
But Ezzie knew her because she frequented this region often, and on more than one occasion had she stolen from Leslie’s bakery under the premise that a rich girl could offer a little charity now and again… she certainly made a profit from her business ventures, otherwise how could a simple human woman afford such luxuries as a large compound further inland towards the center of the sun’s reflection where it was warmest?
She might be pushing her luck in frequently visiting-and stealing from-Leslie’s shops, but her own lucrative business of petty theft was offering up nothing, if not many dead-ends as pawn shops only took in so much merchandise from a single client before questioning its origins.
Swift as a hawk, she easily ‘blended’ in with the citizens around as she followed a small band of five people heading loosely in the same direction. Where the trick came in was that she had to ‘swoop’ in and scoop up her prize and make it back to the crowd before she was spotted.
Ezzie was at her destination soon enough, and she managed to align herself… just a few easy steps… ‘Don’t botch this girl… if Leslie catches you-you won’t get another chance to correct—shit!’ her eyes went wide, and her body frozen… she was going for something simple like a loaf of bread, but her nimble, slender digits weren’t even around their prize in full before she saw herself staring down the business end of a blaster repeater, and the woman shop-owner herself (Leslie) standing just behind it.
“Fool me twelve times, shame on you… fool me thirteen!...” her eyes rolling slightly in a sardonic expression before she just gestured with a loose flick of her wrist. “I’m against capital punishment, but in this case you might want to just ‘cooperate’ with me lest I shoot you down dead and claim self-defense.”
She couldn’t even talk… the woman was just frozen in place, and all over a loaf of bread… ‘Well to be fair it was more like five loaves of bread, a whole wheel of cheese, twenty or so cans of condensed food, two radishes, a steam condenser, ten bags of bagels, a broadcast radio amplifier—‘
“MOVE!”
‘Right…’
She was careful in raising her hands up now as some of the whimsy got back into her step, and that pearly white smile was plastered across her face. “Right, right… it’s cool; we’ll just go and ‘talk’ about this…” her voice, a definite ‘mature’ tone that held such a sultry allure it could even make a grown woman blush, and Leslie was not entirely against the charms herself.
“I’m sure we can,” she replied curtly, and waited for Esmeralda to step within range before the woman suddenly struck down against Ezzie’s neck and shoulder, knocking her out cold, “just not today.”
Well… not all charm had the same effect…
And not all charm caused her to suddenly suffer a blow to the head that would knock her ass out. She felt maybe a twinge of pain before she dropped like a sack of potatoes, and was forced to lay in absent wonder for her split-second consciousness; just what is so important about a loaf of fucking bread?!
Still, the blow was enough to knock Ezzie out for almost hours at a time, and her ‘host’ didn’t seem none too quick to wake her up either… brought in and strapped to a rather ‘crude’ device which bound her ankles in a pair of steel stocks, padded for mild comfort.
Her attire had been stripped down, leaving much of that same chocolate skin bare as hands were bound behind the small of her back, and cinched together at the elbow to prevent further movement. Fortunate for Ezzie, she dressed for the climate, and slightly baggy wool shorts were infinitely more practical, as was a cotton chest wrap which covered her ‘modesty’. That just left the shoes on her feet, and the welt to her neck and shoulder which made the woman stir most uncomfortably, up to the point of that first emerald eye cracking open.
“Well… this is new…” much like before, Ezzie had the ability to keep calm amidst dangerous circumstances. One might say the only reason she ‘froze’ on the spot before was more in line with getting ambushed by surprised; just how many people were held at gunpoint over a loaf of bread? “It wasn’t the most amicable choice of thefts I’ll grant you, but maybe this is going a little too far? Last time I saw a dungeon, my ‘lover’ was antiquating me to the finer points of Chakra stimulation…”
“And I’m sure that ‘stimulation’ wasn’t intended to center you…” Leslie replied, hovering somewhere nearby…
Ezzie had the feeling, but she didn’t quite ‘see’ her captor right away, hence the absent talking… and while the notion of the equipment spoke of a more sinister nature, the room she was in could hardly be described as a ‘dungeon’: lavished in all the obvious fixings of someone living high off the hog (curious human term), and even with an oversized chair which dominated the center of the room, just one giant mattress which Ezzie was poised on as she attempted to sit up, putting strain on her wrists as palms lay flat behind her, looking ahead at the toe of her shoes. “Oh we fucking centered each-other alright… all afternoon and late into the evening at that.”
Leslie gave off a quaint little smile, and finished her mixture of an alcoholic beverage to the left of where Ezzie was restrained. “I’m sure it was epic.”
“Asking for a personal demonstration?”
“No, not quite…” Leslie laughed, and sauntered back over to the mattress as she took residence next to her bound captive. “Must admit I am a little jealous… for a while I thought my skin had a natural dark glow to it, but your people are absolutely radiant…”
Always nice to be referred to as 'your people', but she wasn’t in a position to state her objections about political correctness right now, so maybe another time...
“It’s certainly entertaining, and I don’t consider myself one to swing to left field… but hey—stranger things have happened…” she purred, and one couldn’t mistake the accent to her tone. Only true bred humans had an accent anymore, and hers was certainly one to leave her under notice. “But what’s important now is that you explain to me something; who is hiring you to steal from my shop?”
The sardonic expression wasn’t enough… Ezzie was almost downright awe-struck now… “So we’re in the cloak-and-dagger phase of your little setup because I decided to take a few loaves of bread? Man, you guys must be fucking bored… at least the shop keep a few miles South has the audacity to try and chase me off with a bat if ever he were wise enough to see me-HEY!” She suddenly yelped.
A slight moment of anger had Leslie grabbing a tusk of hair, tugging with enough force to send a stinging jolt down the woman’s scalp as her face contorted in both surprise and mild pain.
“I repeat: who hired you?” even more eerie that Leslie could take on such a calm tone, as the bitch even took a sip of her drink while ‘forcing’ Ezzie to look at her.
“The hell are you talking about?!” she balked… and like any good mischief maker, her attitude won out: “Bread: Loaf. OF. FOOD! I thought the natural instinct of ‘starving belly’ would be enough to explain motive.”
But Leslie was angry again, and threw her drink in Ezzie’s face as the girl gave another yelp, tugging her hair even harder as she climbed onto the bed, straddling the woman’s waist as one hand went diligently around her slender throat. “STOP FUCKING WITH ME CHILD!!” she suddenly roared!...
…and in that same lapse of insanity, looking right back at the fear in Ezzie’s eyes… she suddenly realized… “Oh… oh my…” she chuckled… and a chuckle soon turned to a laugh as she let the woman go, leaving her to collapse onto her back as her chest rose and fall from the asphyxiation not even a moment ago. “Oh this is just ‘too’ good… you don’t even know do you?” she asked, pointing a loose finger at her ‘captive’ as she was on the brink of hysterics.
Asking for trouble, she did so anyway… through a mild coughing fit, “Know what?”
“You don’t have… oh this is so good I’m almost bedazzled… you mean to say you don’t have a single clue as to what you were stealing when you took those bags of bagels from my shop? Oh God, if only Stan could hear about this!” she bellowed, and broke out into her harmonious laughter yet again.
‘God, the woman is a fucking loony-tune… the hell did you get in this time girl?’ “Yeah, ha-ha… all good fun, so maybe now we can talk about—“ a hand clamped over her lips now, and she found herself growing easily unsettled by the way Leslie’s hips were resting against her own; both sets of naked thighs, almost grinding each time the woman moved on top of her, causing an unpleasant stir of feelings.
“Shush! You’re annoying me…” she chided, and sat there with her hand over Ezzie’s mouth as her chin raised slightly in thought… perhaps even coming to terms with how to ‘deal’ with this situation.
When she was done ‘pondering’ or postulating, or whatever the fuck she was doing, she released her grip as her arms crossed over her chest… and in a slightly more disconcerting notion, the woman simply ‘leaned’ forward against Ezzie’s body, practically pressed against the top of her breasts while looking her eye-to-eye… now she had to stare Leslie in the face; those subtle features, the deep brown eyes… her slight auburn hair which wasn’t as voluminous as Ezzie’s, but held just enough curl that it wasn’t simply hanging straight down from her head. Very unsettling, but not without her own appeal that only further increased Ezzie’s discomfort.
“Of course now I have to go through the basis of ‘I don’t believe you’, blah, blah, blah… and while I consider myself a good judge of character, I can’t simply ignore the fact that—whether intentional or not—you stole from me, and some very valuable materials at that. The hell did you do with those bags of bagels anyway?”
A painful move to make, the girl tried—and failed—to shrug her shoulders as she replied simply… “Well… it was food, so I ate it.”
“WHAT?!” she barked, causing Ezzie’s head to sink further into the pillow.
…”Well the hell else do you do with food?!” she exclaimed in a slightly panicked tone, her lower lip in slight tremble.
But Leslie’s amusement knew no bounds… she chuckled again, soon turning to another bellow of laughter, all enough to make Ezzie stir uncomfortably under the woman’s near-nude body. “I’m just surprised you’re still alive after that… did you ever stop and question why we kept those bags of bagels hung up in the back room?... did you even think to consider ‘Gee, what are bagels doing hanging up in a room with no oven, and no cooking equipment’?”
The captive was still spell-bound, and with lips in a slight frown, she just shook her head slightly.
“You know what—“she said, and sat up on Ezzie’s waist again, “—doesn’t matter… what matters is that you ate” she couldn’t say that without giggling like a ninny… “the merchandise and you’re still alive, so all that’s left is what you owe me in return.”
“Okay… fucking weirdo…” she snipped, closing her mouth shortly after as she decided it best NOT to antagonize the woman holding her captive. “I can quickly gain the money back in no time, but it kinda requires… well…” and with that, her upper body gave a bit of a wiggle.
“Not the kind of payment I was talking about…”
The kind of words to make anyone nervous… “So now we’re back to you killing me over a few pieces of fucking bread again?! I’m tied up, you won! I have a god-damn migraine from that knock to the head, I’m still hungry, and you’re sitting here with all the fucking cash—the fuck can I do to pay you back from here?!” and by now she was yelling, her body giving off its first visual resistance as the antics of ‘bucking’ caused Leslie to slightly lose her balance, having to reach down and ‘grip’ the sides of the woman’s body to keep from flying off of her.
PING!
There was a loud yelp… Ezzie’s lips suddenly stuck in a partial smirk as her body stopped fidgeting, and her midsection shrank as far as it could away from Leslie’s fingers and into the seat beneath her…
‘God that fucking tickled!’
It hadn’t gone unnoticed, but at first Leslie didn’t quite know how to respond as her hands retracted suddenly, as though she just discovered that the fence she were attempting to climb was high voltage.
…and that’s when the cruel idea began to form, but not without some ‘foreplay’ in between though…
“Well you leave me in an awkward situation…”
“Yeah, you’re the one in an awkward situation, sure…” Ezzie replied tartly.
But Leslie continued as though she simply ‘didn’t hear’ what the other woman was saying… “Because I can’t just ‘let you go’ without some ample punishment, and if you do know something, well… it would be in my right to either kill you and keep that knowledge from getting out,”
“That would suck…”
“or just let you go with a fair warning… you species—you Feld—you really are quite intriguing…”
With only a raised brow to come to her defense, Ezzie began her uncomfortable shifting again, “Well I’m not a doctor, but unless you have a dildo strap laying around somewhere, I don’t think rape is quite on the table.”
“Could always just call my men in-one by one-to ravage you…”
That shut her up…
“But I’m not a sadist… not entirely… if I’m going to savor something, I’d rather do it personally.” She cooed, letting that quaint little smile curl her lips again as hands descended down to Ezzie’s outstretched torso… the pads of her fingers barely ‘feeling’ along the woman’s tone, slender little stomach.
“S-so then you do have a kinky side with t-t-the girls… don’t you?” while ultimately not her most favorable position, this was ultimately nicer in comparison to what full-scale rape or murder might be like… but damn if those fingers didn’t ignite every little nerve ending in her stomach, and Ezzie was soon fighting just to keep a smile from blossoming on her face.
“I do have my own kinks… but it’s not just with you girl…” she chided, letting that devious smile curl into a wicked grin as her nails finally touched down with a slight ‘hook’ against Ezzie’s sides, causing the woman’s body to fidget even more than before.
She could barely form words now… Lord… she didn’t even know if it was just the Feld that were sensitive, or if all humans suffered, but Ezzie had quite apparent memories of those from her past, and just what ‘being tickled’ did to her. Even now though, it wasn’t possible to think that Leslie was picking up on that… what were the odd chances that Ezzie wind up on a world where…
But the woman stopped… or more importantly, she ceased from those ticklish antics as she let her hands glide along Ezzie’s body instead… almost as if the woman were ‘feeling’ her up… and Leslie had her own hidden little secret that Ezzie might be able to relate to.
“So then the question is: what would be suitable to serve as a reminder that you—dear sweet Feld girl—should really consider never stepping foot in my shop ever again?” she queried, and finally—after what felt like an eternity—hefted her body off the bed as she scooped up her long since empty drinking glass, and ventured towards the bar again.
This left Ezzie practically stunned for a few moments, until she heard the loud SMACK of the glass bottom striking the tabletop. “What? I dunno… look; what’s wrong with just letting me go? We’ve established I don’t know anything…”
“Wrong! I’ve established that you’re very cunning in letting me think you don’t know anything, but I don’t survive solely off of a ‘gut’ feeling, girl…” she replied with a snide curl, fixing another drink for herself.
“So then where does that leave us?” she was almost afraid to ask, but it might give Ezzie a home front advantage to leave herself open for possibilities. Anything, if it meant getting out of this crazy woman’s home alive!
Leslie shrugged, her lips pursed slightly together in thought. “Well, it could mean convincing you what would happen if you set foot on my property again.”
“Erm, you already said that…”
“You misunderstand my meaning, please don’t interrupt again.”
Enough to shut the girl up, but now she was staring wide-eyed at the menacing woman hovering back over her body, and the closer Leslie got to the stocks binding her ankles, the more helpless she felt as she gave her involuntary ‘jerk’ of her legs to try and pull away.
“Whether or not I ‘swing into left field’ never really seems to be the issue… my real power is power itself…” she started, taking a sip—and giving off a very noticeable shiver of her body with the strength of her drink. “You tied up like this, me with my soldiers at the gate, my business ventures… I like anything that resembles how I am superior; over you, over the humanoids outside, over everything! The simple thought that I am in control is what I find appealing, and so by sheer sake of affiliation, one could claim that my attraction is on you right now, because the one thing I can hold over you right now is your captivity and fear… and that I love so very much…”
‘This woman is a fucking loon…’
She let out a sardonic sigh though, as though the woman were growing nostalgic of different times, “But even women in power such as myself have one undefinable kink in the armor; we have carnal desires that far surpass our wanton greed… tell me dear, since we’ve grown so ‘close’ in this short time… can you answer a question for me?”
“Not like I have a choice, but shoot…”
This led to the undoubtedly odd moment of Leslie suddenly grasping at the toe of Ezzie’s left shoe, and giving a playful little wiggle. “Have you ever had your feet tickled before?”
Incredulous as it sounded, the only comfort Ezzie had right now was her ability to lie… and in place of her eyes practically ‘bugging’ out of her skull, the woman was able to postulate an utterly incredulous tone that was dripping with distain and disgust… two things that she didn’t quite feel—not when she had fear and excitement crawling at her back door…
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she barked, and found the strength to practically sit upright now, “I’m struck over the head… questioned… hell, you even throw a drink in my God-damn face, and for what—so you can sit there and play with my feet?! THIS is your solution to warning me?! Jesus, if that was the case I’d have just taken my slippers off and said ‘Have at’ a long fucking time ago, instead of having you waste my time.”
A little strong, but as Ezzie knew, the best deterrent for some people was the thought that something that didn’t quite conform to social norms could be passed off as ‘odd’ and ‘weird’ by sheer association, and as such, the practice would go entirely unmissed because of an overwhelming sense of shame.
Sad for her, Leslie wasn’t easily swayed… “Honey, I never said anything about playing with your feet as suitable reprimand for your crimes… I simply inquired if you were ticklish; though I’m glad you consider the notion disgusting enough to try and pit me as a freak. Hell, it’s almost flattering,” she added as the woman was already halfway done with unzipping Ezzie’s left shoe while downing the rest of her drink, to which the glass was simply ‘tossed’ somewhere where it shattered heavily against a wall.
“The fuck do you expect? Going all cloak-and-dagger on me, and then you ask if my feet are ticklish?—Stop that, I wear those shoes for a reason you fucking weirdo…” she was chiding Leslie further, but only because she couldn’t face her own reality… the act of dominance was enough, but Leslie was right about one thing: everyone had their kink in the armor…
…And rightfully so…
Ezzie gave quite a bit of a fight for the battle of her shoe, but it was ultimately lost as the zipper along the back of it—while designed for thermal protection against moisture—did nothing to help her when Leslie simply ‘slipped’ it off… as such, all Ezzie could do now was watch with great fearful anticipation as the tips of her toes came into view, momentarily splayed after their brief bout with freedom.
Seemed only suiting that a control freak like Leslie had her own kinky little side… now staring down at the bound girl’s trapped foot, it was apparent to see that there was more than just an adverse ‘attraction’ taking place; the soft curve of the arch in modest but high fashion, and the slender form that made it almost seem narrow, with slightly long toes—the index toe more elongated and pronounced than the big one. There was an ethereal quality to it at that, as if the woman simply ‘floated’ on the balls of her heel… barely a size eight, they were almost the perfect contour to the Feld’s even more shapely ‘physique’…
…And the way Leslie was staring down at it, Ezzie almost felt violated from the sheer thought alone… but that was also under the assumption that the woman was genuinely disgusted by what Leslie was imposing.
And she wasn’t… not entirely anyway.
She always knew her share of suitors and their endless kinks, but none ever seemed to want to delve that far below the thighs. As such, the woman never really had a chance to consider the alternative… until it was staring her in the face, and Leslie slipped the other shoe off much without any resistance at all.
“It’s easy to call me a weirdo I’m sure, but hey; I’m the one with the gun,” she answered simply, and with a cozy little laugh as she pulled the weapon out that she originally held Ezzie up with originally before just absently ‘tossing’ it to the floor.
“You still have me stuck on the part where the grand scheme of all this was inevitably geared to play with some Feld girl’s feet…”
“Easy to see it that way, but I consider the latter an added bonus,” she said as she gently gripped Ezzie’s big toe on the right foot, and gave it another playful wiggle… the touch alone was enough to ignite a slight fidget, as though the very idea of Leslie touching her feet was causing bursts of static energy to form and cause her senses to tingle. “You have no choice, and I have no intention of setting you free without making sure you’re telling the truth—“ she held up a hand in that instance, “—Oh I thoroughly believe you so don’t worry… but ‘protocol’ dictates that I be sure… and it is the captor’s prerogative to do something fiendish.”
That swelling in her chest increased, and her attempts at escape were only further fueling the thought that she hadn’t a choice… anticipation was a cunning mistress after all. But all of this must have seemed so shocking on an outward scale, as Ezzie’s face betrayed nothing but a woman literally beside herself, despite the constant slam of her ankles with each new tug.
“You seem a little more ‘willing’ than those I’ve encountered in the past… it’s kind of flattering, especially since you have more shapely feet than others.”
“Other women? I might be jealous,” said out of spite, but said none the less… and almost in a tone dictating mischief…
“You shouldn’t be… I’ve done the same to men too, for you see; the quest for power holds no limits, no boundaries. If I want it, I simply ‘have’ it…”
“And what’s worse—being thought of as just another girl, or as just another thing to play with?”
“Deal with it however you want, call it whatever you want… my only interest is to hear you laugh… and by the Gods, you might even like it…”
A scoff at the very thought… but Ezzie already was at that point, even if mildly so; her ‘excitement’ rather well concealed behind the chest wrap. But what Leslie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her right? Not unlike Ezzie, and the welt against her neck.
“I figured we’d eventually hit that ‘kinky’ human side soon enough… pardon me while I express my utmost delight at picking my feet as the most lucrative point of sexual arousal for you.” Even with a blossoming anticipation growing, there was something inside of Ezzie that had her outwardly expressing her disinterest…
Hard to play this little game, since Ezzie still had to deal with conflicting emotions.
“More like a ‘private indulgence’ for me, if you insist on giving it a label,” Leslie corrected with a very pleasant smile, something to only ‘add’ to the growing anticipation as Ezzie shifted uncomfortably, now upright as her feet carefully curled inward and attempted to ‘shy’ away. But Leslie had already lowered herself into a comfortable seated position, and it made most of the girl vanish, save for the top of her head which barely poked out. “Feel free to get yourself comfortable though—we might be here a while, at least long enough for me to ensure that you never cross me again.”
That, mixed with the sudden ‘vanishing’ of the woman was like an icy clamp around Ezzie’s heart as her original anticipation was starting to blossom into slight mortal terror… she knew what Leslie’s intentions were sure enough, but there was also the foregone mystery that she might do more; she was in a position to harm Ezzie… inflict physical damage, or that—after making due with her threat—she would leave the poor girl utterly mortified from a possibly traumatic experience… and that didn’t sit well with her… “Maybe trade for something else! Being an ample thief I’m sure my prowess could more than acquire anything you want!” Last ditch effort, but Ezzie felt no other option, and doing nothing was bothering her even more; as could be said by the uncomfortable twist back and forth of her feet, the nervous shiver they gave off which was more than visible on those flawless beauties that barely shone a wrinkle in its name even when they curled forward.
The eyes of the hungry and the greedy, Leslie only saw a budding anticipation of her own, one that couldn’t be hindered anymore… and her breath was almost a tremble as a hand reached out carefully, and it wasn’t until two fingers touched against the girl’s heel that she heard a gasp, and saw a visible twitch which wracked the whole frame on its foundation.
“Aaahiiii-If I knehehew this was gonna happen over a loaf oooaaah—SHIT… NGHhhhhh… over a few loaves of fucking bread….” Don’t hate a woman for putting up a viable front of resistance, right? Even a simple touch like to her heel had the adequate response of causing the whole foot to tremble, almost frozen in place at first before the toes gave their macabre dance of the ticklish; shaking almost like a person’s hand when they've ingested too much caffeine… there was confusion in those digits, almost as if they didn’t know where to go, what to do… and even a touch so light and delicate as one on her heel had the woman practically beside herself with that racing sensation.
She couldn't even describe it… like words hadn't yet been formed which would go into vivid detail about ‘ticklish’ sensations… her nerve endings practically quivering almost on a microscopic level, and Ezzie had this vivid image of falling in her mind; her stomach lurching, and her mouth pressed shut in a single, grim line.
The woman wanted to burst out laughing, right from the starting gate, but something inside her refused—or just downright resisted, like a child holding her breath when she didn’t get the toy she wanted, and to make matters worse, she was more than visibly aware that she was nothing but some erotic display for the mad woman at the foot of the stocks… this tell-tale dance of human suffering which only further acted to excite and entice.
And yet… somewhere inside, Ezzie almost didn’t care about that…
Her body would say differently though, as if she only had those feet on display to portray any emotion, Leslie hadn’t even bothered to consider what was on the other side. She built the mental wall, in which those feet poking out were there to tell her everything; how the further along the instep she traveled, the other foot even seemed to fidget back and forth, twisting and rotating at the ankle in the hopeless, endless pursuit of freedom.
The assaulted foot was another story entirely though, as it seemed to be stuck in a state of panic to which the toes only mildly fluttered, as the rest of the sole was practically vibrating, with little patches of skin even twitching inward, like trying to collapse in on itself.
Slowly but surely though, inevitably the first bout of resolve was left to crumble and shatter, as Ezzie—with just one eye open, and a light sheen of sweat breaking out across her upper lip—was barely able to contain herself. Bugs under the skin, crawling everywhere… mostly inside her own stomach as that welling sensation was building ever so gradually, until such a time that the first tittering, giggling, bubbly bit of laughter finally managed to peek out.
Oh it tickled so much more than that though! But in the absence of holding a stoic face and firm jaw she was forced to let ‘something’ out, and it was just in the wake of nimble fingers being added into the mix.
“Please, don’t feel like you need to ‘hold back’ on my account… you should enjoy this light touch while it lasts, because I don’t intend to let you leave here until you understand just how serious I was about little Feld girls needing to mind their own business.” Words of comfort… Ezzie could thank her for it later, but she wasn’t going to give Leslie the satisfaction of her begging, even if she did break down into utter hysterics.
Which is precisely what happened when the woman suddenly began ‘raking’ her nails up and down those slender, petite arches of her… and you almost saw the whimsical cartoon version of Ezzie being electrocuted from the soles of her feet, the way she twitched and spasmed uncontrollably now, and the onslaught of throaty laughter was soon filling the room with a resounding forced mirth.
It made Ezzie’s head spin just from contact alone, and she didn’t even feel her body, or how her wrists strained against the bondage so much that they were growing sore. Nothing really existed quite so much as did that electrifying sensation shooting up from her poor, tender feet… and Leslie played them as though she were strumming the guitar; the right hand quite content in residing deep within her arch ‘God that spot tickled so much!’ while the other was looking for delicate places between the toes to wander in between.
It was an endless, vicious cycle, filled with the most dreaded of realities that her feet were hardly able to stage a resistance campaign against those hands… they would wiggle and flex accordingly almost, but there were times when there was acts of ‘surrender’ not unlike a willing host allowing themselves to be tortured:
Leslie would get between her toes, and obligingly they seemed to part… she would then focus on the arch, and a backwards flex followed by an absent back and forth sway was paramount.
Why couldn’t Ezzie fight back?!
It could have been the applied pressure of the padding around the stocks, cutting off circulation…
‘And THIS is your concern right now?! Girl you need to prioritize, cause if she keeps that up, she’s going to make us both go fucking mad!’ Leave it to the voice of reason to keep calm and cool under pressure.
“Okay, okay! Wait, we can break now right?! Please, just fucking stop!!!” her words so rushed and hurried that it came out in a blur, her face practically plastered in a huge, brimming grin. She was sucking down the addled panic she felt as another buildup of ticklish energy started to grow, and practically barked out in a sudden, if not slightly hoarse tone before literally ‘guffawing’, her body flopping back down on the bed like a fish dangling from a hook.
And how adorable her cute little feet were; her soles only slightly lighter than the tops, masking every line drawn by her fingers. It was almost time now, but there was no need for anyone to feel impatient, yes?
“AAAIIIIIEEE!” she suddenly screamed, and Leslie just gave an all-knowing grin. It would appear that Ezzie’s arches were a heightened point for her… but especially so, when reaching the most tender center of either point, where the woman’s already-soft skin became like clear satin, and digging a nail in at that heightened point was like jabbing her with a cattle prod that had her babbling and cackling several octaves higher than before… her once voluminous and shimmering hair now slowly becoming a matted patch of black plastered along her neck and forehead from the pooling sweat gathering.
“Okay-okay, fuAHAHAcking STAhap! YOU GODDAMN BI-HIHITCH!” she wailed as Leslie continued to ‘press’ the Feld girl’s buttons further… probably the only time she saw Ezzie’s feet come alive, as they were practically convulsing in any direction they could muster now… yet always forced to remain diligently poised and at the ready as the woman was hitting the near-center of Ezzie’s foot.
“I was beginning to wonder when I would hear the sweet, delightful little girl beg like that… might even be a personal best set, you should feel proud!” an excited announcement, and one that barely reached Ezzie’s ears as she was practically a living grin right now; to the point that the sides of her mouth began to hurt, and she could swear she felt sweat breaking out across her entire body, including—oh no—her erect fucking nipples…
Well, this was going to be a bit of a dilemma…
As of now though, Leslie was too well-consumed with the prospect of just playing with Ezzie’s feet to really notice anything from the top half, so unless the situation got steadily worse from… okay, seriously… perhaps it was never a good idea to ‘think’ of the possibilities…
Leslie, in all her infinite glory and fucked upedness, decided in that moment to indulge in another little notion. While Ezzie was fraught with the sensation her feet had provided, she had nothing to even grasp what she felt-physically or emotionally-when she felt the contours of a wet, raspy tongue suddenly dragging up and along the curve of her arch.
It was as though time had slowed to a crawl, and every little jagged tip of that tongue was digging into a nerve ending that was otherwise impossible to reach… ‘hugging’ Ezzie’s arch inescapably with a wanton lust that left Ezzie’s mouth in a wide O… her foot practically turning to stone as it tensed up, and her whole body suddenly let out a wail—no laughter, no screaming… just a bellowing cry not unlike a siren’s call which had her whole body arching off the bed, and her foot so poised it could almost be questioned whether she was ‘pressing’ into the woman’s silky tongue as it lapped past the arch finally, and ended at the tips of her toes, with an equal sizzle of sensation touching the ball of Ezzie’s delicate foot, causing her to ‘whoop’ out suddenly before she flopped onto the bed.
If her head was spinning before… she now had stars dancing in front of her eyes now…
“God, no-wait-WAIT! NO!” she screamed, her grin, her sudden gulping guffaw of laughter coming out again as Leslie went in for a second strike, and now she was nibbling down, her feet fitting so perfectly into the groove of the arch it was as though they had been shaped with Ezzie’s foot in mind, making matters worse in how she continued to lap and lick in between, and NOW she was most feverishly dragging her nails along the corresponding foot just to leave Ezzie in utter stitches… slamming her head down again, and again, and again as she began leaving a light pool of moisture in the wake of her perspiring neckline.
Eventually the poor girl was reaching a state of silent laughter, her chest hardly even quivering anymore as her face—already dark from her natural color—was going several shades darker from asphyxiation.
Maybe there was some truth to Leslie’s words though… if she kept up like this, there was no telling what Ezzie would do, just to make the sensation stop… or to beg that she keep going… such a mottled state of mind, the only reprieve she got from her plight was that all Ezzie had to do was endure this for however long it took—just so that she could walk out of this place alive and in-tact…