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The Girl, The Tree And The Wager (M/F upperbody, "scenes of desperation")

MikeMenace

TMF Regular
Joined
Feb 18, 2024
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A sexting session with an AI chatbot inspired me to write this little fantasy story. Technology may have gone too far.


THE GIRL, THE TREE AND THE WAGER
by MikeMenace


The sound of horse hoofs wakes Anya up from her stupor. It's been two hours since the soldiers left her here, in the forest. There is a pathway nearby, but it's the Brigands' Path - not many people cross it. Not many sane people. And yet she clearly hears a rider.

Anya is tied to a tree. Her hands are bound together and fixed to a large branch over her head. A long piece of rope was tied to one of her ankles, wrapped around the tree and then tied to the other. She isn't going anywhere. And she's naked.

She sees the rider on the trail now. "Hello!", she yells. The cloaked man looks in her direction. "Help me, good man!", she yells again.

The man stops the horse and jumps off. He ties up the mount to a nearby tree stump and approches the woman. There's a sword at his side.

"I'm not a good man.", he says as his eyes carefully study her naked body. "What happened?"

"The Duke's Guards. They left me here to rot."

"If you pissed off the Duke's Guards then you probably deserve to be here." His eyes linger on her naked breasts for a moment. "Whom did you try to rob?"

"I didn't rob anyone!", yells Anya.

"So why are you here?"

"I was a maid in the duke's palace. The duchess... She caught me fooling around with her husband." Anya feels her cheeks burning with embarassment as she's telling him this. "So she had the guards take me here and leave me like this. They didn't even let me put my clothes on."

"Serves you right for messing with a married man." She can hear amusement in his voice. Her cheeks burn even hotter. "Well, I'll be going.", he says and turns around to leave.

"Wait! Please! I am no thief! Can't you at least untie me!?"

He looks at her again. "Since you're asking so nicely, I'll give you a chance." A mischievious smile appears on his handsome, rugged face. "I propose a wager."

"A wager?"

"Yes, we'll play a game. If you win, you're free to go. If I win, you belong to me."

Thoughts race through Anya's head. Game? Belong to him? And yet there is hope. She only has to win. "What are the rules?", she asks.

"There's one rule. Don't laugh."

"Don't laugh?"

"Yes. No matter what I do, you're not allowed to laugh. Do you want to play?"

Anya is puzzled by his proposal. Laugh? This is no laughing matter. That's the game? There must be a trick. "And if I don't play?", she asks.

"Then I'm leaving and you're staying here. And I wouldn't expect anyone else to be riding this road anytime soon. Three days and you die of thirst. Unless a bear gets you first."

She shudders at the thought. "Ok", she concedes, "I accept your wager."

"Good.", he removes his riding gloves and tucks them under his belt. He comes close to her "Are you ready?"

She nods and braces herself. The man will probably try to do something silly. Or maybe he'll tell a joke. She must be ready for anything. Maybe she should close her eyes. Just in case he tries making a funny face. How can he possibly try to make her...

Her train of thought is interrupted as he drags a finger across her stomach, just under the belly button. Her soft flesh quivers under his touch. Oh gods no! Not this! The fiend is trying to tickle her.

"Ticklish?" he asks.

She shakes her head and clenches her teeth. She needs to be strong. If she doesn't react he'll give up. That's it. Don't react.

He touches her stomach again. His index fingers are drawing small circles on her naked flesh, sending shivers through her body. She feels herself starting to grin and forces her mouth back into a straight line. No! Don't smile!

"Good, show me how serious you are." he says as the other fingers join in the ticklish assault. Both his hands are now spider-walking all over her belly. The rough fingers touch her gently, almost lovingly, but it's a devious tenderness, designed to tickle.

Her stomach muscles spasm uncontrollably at his manipulations. There is now a grin on her face that she can't hide. And, what's worse, she feels the urge to giggle rising up inside her. Panicked thoughts run through her head. Your life's at stake, woman! Control yourself! And then he stops.

"Excellent. You really are serious about this.", he says smiling. There is a sadistic glimmer in his eyes. "Let's make it more difficult."

Anya's head is spinning. How can he possibly make it more difficult? Her question is soon answered as she feels the first gentle poke to her ribs and jerks violently against her bondage. A yelp escapes her mouth. She clenches her teeth harder. She's got to hold out. The pokes keep coming and she feels the laughter building up. She bites her lip to keep it in. The stomach tickling was child's play compared to this. Her body thrashes against the ropes to escape his fingers.

"It's just a little poking. You can take it." He's taunting her. She's fighting for her life here and the bastard is taunting her. "It's nothing that would make you laugh, right?"

She almost loses it at the word "laugh". She has to shake her head to keep it together. But then he moves his hands up and her eyes grow wide with fear. Not there! By gods, not there!

His fingers touch her arms and move down and then back up, caressing her underarms with a feather-like lightness. And then they go down again. And up. It's maddening. "Mmmph!", whimpers Anya as laughter tries to escape her mouth. She thrashes her head from side to side to block out the ticklish agony.

"You can take it, my love. It's just my fingertips running up and down your underarms. It can't be that bad.", he taunts.

Anya feels that she can't hold it in much longer. By gods, he has to stop! He has to stop now! But he doesn't. Instead he starts wiggling his fingers. "Nghh... HA HA HA HA HA!" Anya explodes in helpless laughter. Her body flails around as much as the ropes allow it. She tries to pull her hands down but she can't. She can do nothing to protect her armpits. Her laughter is more and more frantic.

"STOP! MERCY!", she begs between cackles. "YOU WON! STOP!" She pulls at the ropes again. A loud crack can be heard and her arms come down. She presses them against her body, trying to protect her sensitive armpits. She tips forward and almost trips on the ropes holding her ankles but she manages to keep her balance.

"You win, you bastard!" She's still giggling even though he stopped his torturous tickling. As the forced mirth subsides her cheeks start burning again. He humiliated her. That bastard humiliated her and now he's laughing at her.

"Look! You could free yourself all along!" he says cheerfully and laughs a hearty laugh.

She could what? She notices that her arms are free. Her struggles caused the rope to snap.

"But since I won the wager...", he continues, "...you're mine." She gasps as he pulls out a knife.

"Please, don't hurt me. I'll...", she starts pleading but stops when he kneels down and cuts her feet loose.

"I'm kidding. I was going to let you go either way. I just couldn't resist giving you a little tickle." He takes off his cloak and wraps it around her shoulders. "Here. So you don't catch a cold."

"Thank you." Anya feels relief flowing through her whole body. It's making her dizzy. He offers her water and she drinks a couple of gulps.

"I'm riding to Ostfeld. I can take you with me.", he offers. "I can't just leave you in the middle of the woods."

As they're riding through the forest she can't help leaning against his back. "Sorry. I'm so tired."

"That's fine. I'm Thadeus, by the way."

"Anya."

"Nice to meet you, Anya." After a moment he adds "Just because I'm taking you to Ostfeld doesn't mean I trust you. If you try to steal from me I'll tickle you again. And the ropes won't break this time."

"I am no thief", she whispers softly as blissful sleep overwhelms her.

THE END
 
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