Annals Votary
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Whew! This is my first work of tickle fiction and... well I'm a little nervous to present it. It's the first piece of fetish-centered writing that I've ever done and it was very exhilarating to work on. I was inspired by many of the excellent fantasy writers in this board, especially Jaynin and Elfejwa. Tickling based in a fantasy world has always been something that I've wanted to work on and one day I decided to finally get to it. What stopped me from doing it before was mostly nervousness. I wasn't sure how to proceed with it and I wasn't sure if it was going to be good, but I found that after the difficulties of the first page, the rest of it began to flow easier and it became very enjoyable to write. There's sexual content throughout, though less in this first part of the chapter and more in the second continuation. Ahm... I guess that's all I really want to say. Any feedback is appreciated and encouraged, negative, positive, anything please. I would love all critiques. This is my first story after all, though I hope that this first chapter will be one of many in a continuing series. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it 🙂.
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For as long as its residents could remember, the land of Kismata has always been locked in strife. Divided into a dozen city-states, border disputes and raids were frequent; lives and homes were lost as carelessly as coins in the street. To prevent further loss of life, the leaders of each city-state acknowledged their crimes against each other, and agreed upon several rulings that would ensure such terrible events would not come to pass again. The first of these decrees was the outlawing of all weapons that could cause death within two strokes to the body or the head. Swords and axes, bows and bolts, all were kept within the city-states but without the borders that connected them. The second of these decrees replaced all armed soldiers at the borders with mages, so as to further limit the accidental loss of life. Raids and skirmishes to trade routes were still common, but were now conducted by specialists trained in non-lethal combat and left to their own devices. Finally, the taking of prisoners between city-states was encouraged, and indentured servants became as commonly traded a commodity as linen or foodstuffs. The first decade since the installation of these decrees was the most difficult for the city-states, but as time slowly passed, the damage to body and land grew less frequent. Peace, or something close to it, flourished in Kismata, owing to the banishment of arms and the bravery of those mages responsible for manning the borderlands. So now begins our tale, in Elinsil, a southern city-state of bountiful forests and lush greenery, where there exists one of several prestigious towers where magic is taught to the select few born with the capacity to accept its lessons. In Iodil’s Tower, one young mage was awakening from a well-deserved sleep, very eager to begin that particular day.
“Wake up, Vyn!” Anaís cried as she leapt onto her partner’s back. His only reply was an “oof” from the impact and an inaudible mumble when he buried his face deeper into the pillow. Although she frowned and pursed her lips, she would not let her partner’s attitude dissuade her.
“C’monnnnn!” she rocked back and forth on him. “It’s time to start the day!”
Any other day, Vynnen would have found her behavior endearing, but that particular morning just so happened to be the aftermath of a very trying evaluation, one he had not done so well on, and still felt the retroactive ache of his punishment for failing.
“Since when were you a morning person...” he pushed his face out of the pillow and groaned.
“But we’re learning a new spell today!” Anaís persisted “Isn’t that something to be excited about?”
“Not when you’re tired from doing shit on the last spell…” he replied and let his face fall back into the pillow.
“Vyn it’s a summoning spell! Just get uuupp!” she grunted with effort as she set her hands under his hip and tried to roll him over onto his back. Just when she was certain she was making progress, she lost her balance and fell forward over his rump with a small squeal, without so much as a twitch of acknowledgment from him. At the very least he could have shifted his position to check if she wasn’t hurt—though on a bed so large and comfortable, it seemed extremely unlikely. Anaís freed her hands from beneath him and used the soft body part she had just fallen over to push herself upright. To her further frustration, Vynnen began gently snoring again.
“Ignore me will you…” she huffed and spun around so that her back was to his. She pulled out the covers from around his legs and pushed them aside, first baring his feet, then his calves, and finally, her target, the soft spaces behind his knees. With a barely contained giggle, Anaís tightly wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and pushed down on the back of his calves with her left hand.
“Last chance to get up, Vyn,” she tittered, bit her lower lip, and glanced back over her shoulder. He was still snoring, exactly what she had hoped for. Wasting no further time, she set the nails of her right hand over the backs of his knees.
“EEEEEEYAHAHAHAHAHAHANOHO!” his reaction was instantaneous and deafening, which further broadened her smile as she spidered her nails over his right knee and then over his left, back and forth, enjoying the supple feeling of those warm spaces.
“PLEEEHEEHEEASEHAHAHA JUST FIHAHAHAHAHAIVE MORE MIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Vynnen struggled to speak over his frantic laughter. He bucked and screamed wildly against her touch but she held firm, now tracing figure eight shapes with her sharp nails over his knees. If anything, his struggling encouraged her to continue; the sudden bursts of pressure he sent against her pelvis and the insides of her thighs were anything but unpleasant. Anaís giggled and stopped her sudden onslaught. She fell forward so that her face was just inches from the peach-flushed soles of his feet and gingerly began to nibble his left foot’s heel.
“AHAHAHA! I’m up! I’m up!” he cried out and tried to wiggle his captive feet from her grip. She grinned broadly and savored one last lick up his sole, issuing a final yelp of protest from him, before climbing off with a happy little bounce and jumping to the floor. Vynnen rolled over onto his back and brushed the strands of dark-brown hair that stuck to his face, lightly panting as he did so.
Anaís loved the angry, defeated expression that crossed her partner’s face when he recovered from tickling. Though an unattractive mage was practically unheard of in Kismata, she had always thought she was fortunate to have been paired with Vynnen. When his hair was in order and wasn’t wildly strewn from his struggles, it was straight and fell to his ears, where it was often brushed back to keep from his bespectacled hazel eyes. His face was well-shaped, not too angular, but still sharp in his jaw and chin where it most defined his manhood. He was pale and cleanly shaven, and she loved the lithe, sculpturesque muscling of his otherwise thin, 5’10” frame.
“You never do well with new spells, what’s got you so excited today?” he asked between pants.
“I’ve been practicing,” Anaís proudly declared. Vynnen arched his eyebrows upward.
“I have!” she stomped down with one little bare foot and caused her partner to laugh, less out of spite and more out of how damn adorable he found the action. The pouty flush that crept over her face in response did little to help.
“I believe you” he said, “I just don’t know if it’ll be enough for Kara.”
“Oh it will, there’s nothing that cranky bitch will find wrong this time!”
Vynnen sighed and sat up.
“Well we should get dressed then, I need the ba—”
“I’m getting the bathroom first,” Anaís interrupted.
“What? Why not let me sleep in the time you’d have used it then?”
A good question. Anaís stared blankly at her partner’s face for a moment before promptly running off.
She locked the door behind her, just in case Vynnen would be at her heels for the bathroom. The likelier event would probably be his falling back to sleep for however long she would stay in there. When no knocking came, it seemed that such an event had become the reality. She turned to the enormous bathroom mirror.
The attractive face of an eighteen-year young girl greeted her. Anaís brushed a hand through her tangled, reddish-brown hair, scratching, trying to set her soft, wavy locks into something that would resemble an orderly appearance. She soon gave up; the day would eventually weigh the rest of her hair down parallel to her round chin anyway, with a few bangs at the front falling just to her nose over her eyes. She had a heart-shaped face, with a softly curving jaw that led to two smooth cheeks that rose round and big on her countenance when she smiled, giving it an even more heart-like appearance. She had big, almond-shaped emerald eyes and her nose was small and pretty, elegantly curving at the tip and every bit as expressive as the rest of her face, especially her eyes and eyebrows, which spoke for her mood as often as her mouth did. Her pink lips pleasantly completed her face and often accompanied her cheeks in growing red. She was paler than her partner and stood shorter at 5’5”. She had a slim build, though it was not without supple curves in all the right places. Her hips and thighs were shapely under her torso, curving delicately and appealingly to accommodate the slightest plumpness in her lower belly.
The flesh above her belly was not without its curves as well. Her breasts were D-cups, and after a year of the academy’s athletic training their weight did not bother her small frame as much. Anaís adjusted her tank top and took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly and deliberately.
“You can do it… You can do it…” she began to quietly tell herself; it was the sort of centering that she needed. She was not always the quickest to grasp new spells and as a result was often one of the first to be subject to the punishment for such inability. But today was different. Anaís exhaled again and stared into the bright green eyes that watched her in the mirror, alight like a verdant fire, burning with determination. For all her flaws in the classroom, she more than made up for it in extracurriculars by doggedly pursuing whatever she set her mind to. In the days prior, she had set her mind to mastering the spell assigned for today and was ready to dazzle her instructor. There would be no tickling for her today.
A shudder ran down her spine as she remembered yesterday’s punishment. Vynnen wasn’t the only one who had done poorly on their weekly assessment. Thinking about it now, Anaís had never done well on such occasions, and as a result every week’s assessment was a certain sentence of unwilling tickle torture for her. She unconsciously wiggled her toes but then deliberately shook her head when she noticed. No. Definitely not today. Today she would show everyone what she was capable of.
“Alright, bathroom’s yours,” she said when she emerged.
As she had expected, Vynnen was on his back again and dead asleep, though the sweet expression on his face did not move her to rouse him with tickling. Not immediately anyway.
“Hey,” Anaís breathed in his ear as she tenderly shook his shoulder. Fortunately for him (and to a momentarily disappointed frown from Anaís), he slowly opened his eyes to a very welcome sight. His partner was already dressed in the tower’s uniform: a forest green bandeau that snuggly fit around her breasts and a long dress of the same color that sensually outlined the shape of her exposed belly and well-rounded hips. Both garments were decorated with flowing thin leaves of a brighter green.
Moaning one last protest, Vynnen rose up off the bed and sauntered past Anaís on his way to the bathroom, but not before his hand found her round bottom and gave it a good squeeze. She yelped and slapped after his hand, laughing when he avoided her attack and quickened his pace to the bathroom. At least he was awake now. Anaís sat on the edge of the bed and traced idle patterns in the floor with one bare toe until her partner emerged ready. Vynnen was dressed in a long dress similar to hers, though with dark olive overcloths added around his hips to add a more masculine flare. His torso was naked, save for two armbands that he wore around his lithe biceps, colored in patterns that matched the bandeau worn by his partner.
He shivered and brushed his lightly-muscled stomach and rubbed one bare foot against the other. Vicariously through his gestures Anaís felt her own self-consciousness grow.
The revealing uniforms were an important part of their studies, as they exposed prime tickle targets to their opponents during classroom exercises, providing areas to attack on their foes and guard on themselves. She took a few more seconds to admire her partner’s body, especially to admire his vulnerable body language. Perhaps her classes were already rubbing off on her, if the dark thoughts that crossed her mind and the coy smile that crossed her face were any indicators. But such things would certainly have to wait for another day. Anaís leapt to her feet, her sudden movements snapping her partner out of whatever uncomfortable reflection he was engaged in.
“Let’s go!” she exclaimed and grabbed Vynnen’s hand. He only had time to grab his glasses from the nightstand before she pulled him to the door. She was surprisingly strong when she wanted to be. The two swiftly left their room and bounded down the hallway, the sound of their soles slapping against the floor echoed through the halls.
The floor was one of the more interesting aspects of their tower, though one that wasn’t without its own sinister purpose. It was almost a living, breathing entity, creamy beige in color, and self-efficient in every way. Anaís noticed that no matter how often she walked over it, it was always warm against her feet. Just as well, no matter how often or for how long she walked over it, her feet never became dirty or rough. If anything, she noticed that her soles had become steadily softer, cleaner, and more sensitive during her first year of walking on the floors in the tower. Not that her feet weren’t already quite soft or sensitive to begin with, but after every punishment and sparring defeat, somewhere in the back of her mind, where a part of her managed to stay sane during the maddening tortures, she noticed that the tickling had a stronger effect on her. As the delicate bottoms of her feet were subject to increasing titillation by all manner of tickle tools, it began to increasingly evoke more violent twitching and more frantic laughter.
Anaís forced those unwanted thoughts away and replaced them with ones of determination. I won’t have to put up with the tickling today! she thought to herself. I’ll show them how good of a mage I can be! Preoccupied with that thought, she didn’t notice how quickly she was rushing to the dining hall nor that she still held Vynnen’s hand and was almost dragging him along as he struggled to keep up with her.
Their breakfast was a hearty selection of pastries and simple meats and porridges. Anaís finished her meal quickly and spent the rest of the breakfast rubbing her toes against her partner’s shins, all while performing every little thing she could to make the time pass quicker. She first rapped her fingers against the desk, she rearranged her silverware to form patterns and shapes, then glanced up at Vynnen—who ate relatively peacefully despite Anaís’s distractions—and made him guess what the figure was supposed to be.
He guessed correctly almost instantly each time; there was only so much one could create with a bowl, a plate, a spoon, and a fork.
When breakfast was over, Anaís was the first one on her feet. She bounded over to the other side of the table where her partner sat, grabbed his arm before he even had time to stow away the newstablet he was reading, and pushed him up off the table to join her in her powerwalk to the morning’s first class.
“You’re really strong when you want to be,” Vynnen remarked as he watched the discarded tablet grow more and more distant before it finally disappeared behind the dining hall’s doors. His partner said nothing and instead only quickened her pace to a jog.
Though he couldn’t see her face he had a fair idea that she was smiling. And she was. Not just from his comment, but the fact that the stairs that would lead them to their class were now in sight. Anaís bounded up the stairs and must have almost tripped three times before she finally reached her target floor of the tower.
She ran quickly down the hallway and leapt into their classroom. They were the first students there.
“Ah! You’re eager to learn today! This isn’t like you, Anaís,” spoke a bright, almost musical voice. Anaís jumped when she heard it; apparently they weren’t the only ones in the room. She saw that their history teacher was sitting at her usual desk at the front left of the class. When she saw how her teacher was sitting however, she blushed furiously and felt her heart skip a beat.
Professor Ochri was one of the city-state’s most esteemed historians, and a mage that was extremely easy on the eyes for her students. She had wild and long black hair, which she kept tied in a large tail that bounced prettily on the back of her head, with two free bunches of locks that she left to frame either side of her stunning, oval face. Her eyes were a deep sky blue that seemed to twinkle behind her glasses when she spoke and read and especially when she smiled or laughed. But what captivated Anaís’s attention wasn’t the professor’s pretty face or the attractive, pale figure snuggly set in a revealing emerald robe, it was the sensual shape of her feet, propped up on the desk and crossed at the ankle. Her soles were milky-white and remarkably smooth. Small wrinkles were present along the curves of her soft heels and well-rounded arches, with the slightest tinges of a rosy glow pleasantly flushing along those tender areas and the bases of her toes.
“I...um…there’s a new spell today…” Anaís stammered and blushed, and unconsciously sat at the two-person study table closest to the teacher’s own desk, so as to have the best view of Professor Ochri’s tantalizing feet. The sight of them inspired a rush of heat that rose in her belly and slowly spread down to warm the eager lips between her legs. When did she become so obsessed? Her mind became occupied with how supple those alabaster soles would feel under her lips, under her fingers, and what sounds and reactions would be drawn from their beautiful owner. As if reading her thoughts, Professor Ochri smiled at her student before returning to the newstablet on her lap, but not before slowly, teasingly, flexing her toes, letting their rosy roundness form sensual wrinkles in her soles.
Vynnen shared his partner’s smitten stare, and himself would have chosen to sit at that particular table if Anaís had not done so first. But in the back of his mind, he knew what a mistake it was. Professor Ochri was notoriously known for picking on the students who sat at the front row of the classroom. She spread the lesson’s questions to every student, of course, but she seemed to reserve the majority of them for those who seated themselves expressly to sneak glimpses of her feet. If a student failed to answer three questions, they were summoned later in the day to receive their punishment. It was needless to say that Professor Ochri loved to ask her students questions.
Surprisingly enough, when more students arrived and the class began, Anaís had done rather well during that class. During the hour and a half of class time, she had failed to answer only one question, while her partner had failed to answer two. Several others in the class were not as fortunate. One table in particular had failed to answer many of the questions asked, much to the delight of their professor. When the class concluded, the young man and woman sitting at that table were the quickest to leave, knowing full well that they would have ample opportunity to study again later under Professor Ochri’s very thorough tutoring.
“Spell time! Spell time!” Anaís excitedly giggled when she emerged from the classroom. Vynnen followed, still shaken from how close he had come to earning their history teacher’s extracurricular guidance.
“Are you excited to see it?” she turned back to him and gushed. Her giddiness was contagious. He smiled and nodded, which caused his partner to wrap around his middle and take his hand anew on their way down the stairs and through the doors to Professor Kara’s outdoor training grounds. Sooner than he would have liked, they were there—and so was Professor Kara.
“Hello,” the teacher said with a small smile and an appraising flash of her eyes. Anaís bowed and hurriedly took her seat amidst the shrubbery and warm grass, blushing and biting her lip when the more rigid blades of grass brushed against the sides of her feet.
Professor Kara was responsible for their magic and combat training, and handled her job with the responsibility expected of someone preparing future mages to be sent to the borderlands. She was taller than Anaís and built with more voluptuous plumpness that only enhanced her beauty in the eyes of her students. Her skin was a touch more bronzed than the average Elinsilian’s alabaster complexion as well, though not enough to make her stand out too significantly amongst her fellow mages. Her face was round and attractive, with wild, dark blond hair that cascaded down to her shoulders. But there was one thing that felt out of place on her otherwise gorgeous countenance. Her eyes were an alluring mix of gray and green, though Anaís always felt that there was something off about them. Their expression was always one of… boredom; it was the word closest to what crossed Anaís’s mind. The expression went well with how strictly she regarded her students and how eagerly she punished those who were not up to par with her expectations.
Among those students was often Anaís.
Not today, Anaís thought and bounced in her seat. Today I’ll kick that spell’s ass!
When finally more students arrived and seated themselves (not without their own trouble with the ticklish grass), Professor Kara began.
“As you know, today we were assigned a new summoning spell to augment our casting in the field.”
Anaís wiggled where she sat and readied her hand, determined to be the first one to demonstrate her mastery of the spell. She was tired of the tickling punishments, tired of getting along as one of the weaker mages of her class. Everything was going to change today, she was sure of it.
“I have decided to withhold that spell, and instead explore a new one today during our class time,” Professor Kara calmly said.
Anaís’s heart sank.
“This way we can see if your raw abilities are coming along, in addition to your capacity for personal research.”
“Wait!” Anaís interrupted angrily. The teacher glanced at her. She was used to Anaís’s disruptions by now, but it surprised her that one was ready before the exercises even began.
“Yes, Anaís?”
“What about the summoning spell?”
“We’ll have that for another day.”
“You can’t just change our spells!”
A flash of fire crossed Professor Kara’s otherwise jaded eyes.
“I’m the professor. I can do whatever I think is right.”
“But I was ready for that spell!”
Vynnen winced and glanced nervously at his partner’s outburst. The expression in their teacher’s eyes changed again, this time from anger to mild interest.
“You were prepared today?”
Anaís felt her face grow hot with embarrassment as a quiet scattering of giggles erupted around her.
“Yes. I was,” she growled back.
“I’m glad to see you finally taking initiative, Anaís, but we won’t be doing that spell today, instead—”
“But that’s complete shite!” she interrupted again. This time her professor’s eyes definitely flared with anger.
“Don’t interrupt me again,” Professor Kara sternly spoke. “Your standing is bad enough as it is.”
“But you can’t just go and change the spells that you assigned us before!”
“Fine!”
Everyone fell silent after that; even Anaís felt her impulsive anger die down a little. Her professor did occasionally express irritation at her, but never had she heard such a tone of sheer exasperation.
“Why don’t you come up and perform the spell then. I suppose I shouldn’t be upset at your for being prepared for once.”
Anaís brightened immediately and leapt to her feet. Vynnen uneasily watched her trot over to Professor, who stood with her arms folded and one bare foot tapping in annoyance.
“Are you ready?” the teacher asked. Anaís nodded excitedly and immediately began to concentrate on the air before her. Summoning spells typically took longer to cast than other, more battle-ready, spells, and were often reserved only for situations when time was on their side. The eager mage traced the patterns of the necessary magical circle with her mind, first imagining their paths and then actually seeing them in the air before her, invisible to the others present. The circle was glowing a bright purple; all the necessary symbols were there, no line was out of place, and the shining color did not dull for a moment—Anaís’s practice had truly paid off. It was time for the invocation.
Still concentrating on the circle, she called on the true name of the spell. She needed only to speak it once in her mind.
There was a great puff of white smoke where the circle was, and she knew that the spell was successful as soon as she heard the creature’s cry.
A bright orange cat hovered in the air, though instead of feet, its lower body seemed to be covered in a nebulous white cloud. It meowed and lazily began to fly around Anaís, its bright green eyes flashing with interest.
“Hah!” Anaís triumphantly cried and turned to grin at Professor Kara. “A perfectly summoned chatnu!”
Her professor raised an eyebrow in amusement and a smile trembled on her lips. Anaís felt her own smile slowly fade when nothing else was said and quiet spread through the training grounds, broken only by Vynnen’s barely heard, “Oh gods…”
“Yes, very nice,” Professor Kara finally spoke, “if that wasn’t the spell that we learned a month ago.”
Anaís’s smile vanished completely and horror seized her heart. She looked uncertainly at the chatnu’s lazy path around her and turned her eyes back at her professor. From the coy smirk on her face, Anaís could tell that Professor Kara thoroughly enjoyed the expression of fearful embarrassment that crossed hers.
“Though I guess I can mark off that spell from your progress report now, you’ve certainly mastered it.” The instructor put her hands on her wide hips and smiled wickedly. “How about you try the summoning spell I originally planned for today?”
Anaís was trembling now. She had no idea what that spell was. What’s worse was that she had made a fool of herself and angered Professor Kara. In her enthusiasm to avoid the inevitable tickle torture, she only succeeded in bringing herself closer to it.
“It’s the dochin, remember? Of course you do! It’s the spell you were so excited about today.”
She had to try. How hard could it be? She knew there was one or two symbols shared by the chatnu summon spell. Anaís bit her lip and concentrated again, bringing up the magic circle in her mind and setting into it what symbols she thought would be relevant. Of course the magic circle didn’t glow very brightly, and of course when she tried to evoke it, there was nothing but a poof of white smoke with nothing that came after it. She cringed and glanced at Professor Kara, who was tapping her foot impatiently again.
“No? That’s too bad. Looks like I’ll be adding that spell to your to-be-tested list,” her tone grew stern. “For interrupting my class, your punishment will start early. It’ll last the whole class. I think three hours will teach you to pay more attention to the material. And don’t worry about sparring, Vynnen,” she added, turning to Anaís’s distraught partner, “I’ll be your opponent while Anaís is away.”
Vynnen’s face paled, but it was nothing compared to the expression of sheer terror on his partner’s. Before Anaís could so much as open her mouth to protest, roots shot through the earth and wrapped tightly around her wrists, waist, and ankles.
“No! I d—” a root gagged her mouth and muffled her indignant screams and squeals. She tried to struggle against them but found that the harder she thrashed, the tighter they bound her, just as always. In a matter of mere seconds, she was hoisted into the air, barely able to even wiggle against the roots, and carried to the nearest tree. Angry tears blurred her vision as the tree opened up for her and she felt the roots take her down deep into the tree’s underground, where a section of the tower was dedicated to punishment.
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For as long as its residents could remember, the land of Kismata has always been locked in strife. Divided into a dozen city-states, border disputes and raids were frequent; lives and homes were lost as carelessly as coins in the street. To prevent further loss of life, the leaders of each city-state acknowledged their crimes against each other, and agreed upon several rulings that would ensure such terrible events would not come to pass again. The first of these decrees was the outlawing of all weapons that could cause death within two strokes to the body or the head. Swords and axes, bows and bolts, all were kept within the city-states but without the borders that connected them. The second of these decrees replaced all armed soldiers at the borders with mages, so as to further limit the accidental loss of life. Raids and skirmishes to trade routes were still common, but were now conducted by specialists trained in non-lethal combat and left to their own devices. Finally, the taking of prisoners between city-states was encouraged, and indentured servants became as commonly traded a commodity as linen or foodstuffs. The first decade since the installation of these decrees was the most difficult for the city-states, but as time slowly passed, the damage to body and land grew less frequent. Peace, or something close to it, flourished in Kismata, owing to the banishment of arms and the bravery of those mages responsible for manning the borderlands. So now begins our tale, in Elinsil, a southern city-state of bountiful forests and lush greenery, where there exists one of several prestigious towers where magic is taught to the select few born with the capacity to accept its lessons. In Iodil’s Tower, one young mage was awakening from a well-deserved sleep, very eager to begin that particular day.
“Wake up, Vyn!” Anaís cried as she leapt onto her partner’s back. His only reply was an “oof” from the impact and an inaudible mumble when he buried his face deeper into the pillow. Although she frowned and pursed her lips, she would not let her partner’s attitude dissuade her.
“C’monnnnn!” she rocked back and forth on him. “It’s time to start the day!”
Any other day, Vynnen would have found her behavior endearing, but that particular morning just so happened to be the aftermath of a very trying evaluation, one he had not done so well on, and still felt the retroactive ache of his punishment for failing.
“Since when were you a morning person...” he pushed his face out of the pillow and groaned.
“But we’re learning a new spell today!” Anaís persisted “Isn’t that something to be excited about?”
“Not when you’re tired from doing shit on the last spell…” he replied and let his face fall back into the pillow.
“Vyn it’s a summoning spell! Just get uuupp!” she grunted with effort as she set her hands under his hip and tried to roll him over onto his back. Just when she was certain she was making progress, she lost her balance and fell forward over his rump with a small squeal, without so much as a twitch of acknowledgment from him. At the very least he could have shifted his position to check if she wasn’t hurt—though on a bed so large and comfortable, it seemed extremely unlikely. Anaís freed her hands from beneath him and used the soft body part she had just fallen over to push herself upright. To her further frustration, Vynnen began gently snoring again.
“Ignore me will you…” she huffed and spun around so that her back was to his. She pulled out the covers from around his legs and pushed them aside, first baring his feet, then his calves, and finally, her target, the soft spaces behind his knees. With a barely contained giggle, Anaís tightly wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and pushed down on the back of his calves with her left hand.
“Last chance to get up, Vyn,” she tittered, bit her lower lip, and glanced back over her shoulder. He was still snoring, exactly what she had hoped for. Wasting no further time, she set the nails of her right hand over the backs of his knees.
“EEEEEEYAHAHAHAHAHAHANOHO!” his reaction was instantaneous and deafening, which further broadened her smile as she spidered her nails over his right knee and then over his left, back and forth, enjoying the supple feeling of those warm spaces.
“PLEEEHEEHEEASEHAHAHA JUST FIHAHAHAHAHAIVE MORE MIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Vynnen struggled to speak over his frantic laughter. He bucked and screamed wildly against her touch but she held firm, now tracing figure eight shapes with her sharp nails over his knees. If anything, his struggling encouraged her to continue; the sudden bursts of pressure he sent against her pelvis and the insides of her thighs were anything but unpleasant. Anaís giggled and stopped her sudden onslaught. She fell forward so that her face was just inches from the peach-flushed soles of his feet and gingerly began to nibble his left foot’s heel.
“AHAHAHA! I’m up! I’m up!” he cried out and tried to wiggle his captive feet from her grip. She grinned broadly and savored one last lick up his sole, issuing a final yelp of protest from him, before climbing off with a happy little bounce and jumping to the floor. Vynnen rolled over onto his back and brushed the strands of dark-brown hair that stuck to his face, lightly panting as he did so.
Anaís loved the angry, defeated expression that crossed her partner’s face when he recovered from tickling. Though an unattractive mage was practically unheard of in Kismata, she had always thought she was fortunate to have been paired with Vynnen. When his hair was in order and wasn’t wildly strewn from his struggles, it was straight and fell to his ears, where it was often brushed back to keep from his bespectacled hazel eyes. His face was well-shaped, not too angular, but still sharp in his jaw and chin where it most defined his manhood. He was pale and cleanly shaven, and she loved the lithe, sculpturesque muscling of his otherwise thin, 5’10” frame.
“You never do well with new spells, what’s got you so excited today?” he asked between pants.
“I’ve been practicing,” Anaís proudly declared. Vynnen arched his eyebrows upward.
“I have!” she stomped down with one little bare foot and caused her partner to laugh, less out of spite and more out of how damn adorable he found the action. The pouty flush that crept over her face in response did little to help.
“I believe you” he said, “I just don’t know if it’ll be enough for Kara.”
“Oh it will, there’s nothing that cranky bitch will find wrong this time!”
Vynnen sighed and sat up.
“Well we should get dressed then, I need the ba—”
“I’m getting the bathroom first,” Anaís interrupted.
“What? Why not let me sleep in the time you’d have used it then?”
A good question. Anaís stared blankly at her partner’s face for a moment before promptly running off.
She locked the door behind her, just in case Vynnen would be at her heels for the bathroom. The likelier event would probably be his falling back to sleep for however long she would stay in there. When no knocking came, it seemed that such an event had become the reality. She turned to the enormous bathroom mirror.
The attractive face of an eighteen-year young girl greeted her. Anaís brushed a hand through her tangled, reddish-brown hair, scratching, trying to set her soft, wavy locks into something that would resemble an orderly appearance. She soon gave up; the day would eventually weigh the rest of her hair down parallel to her round chin anyway, with a few bangs at the front falling just to her nose over her eyes. She had a heart-shaped face, with a softly curving jaw that led to two smooth cheeks that rose round and big on her countenance when she smiled, giving it an even more heart-like appearance. She had big, almond-shaped emerald eyes and her nose was small and pretty, elegantly curving at the tip and every bit as expressive as the rest of her face, especially her eyes and eyebrows, which spoke for her mood as often as her mouth did. Her pink lips pleasantly completed her face and often accompanied her cheeks in growing red. She was paler than her partner and stood shorter at 5’5”. She had a slim build, though it was not without supple curves in all the right places. Her hips and thighs were shapely under her torso, curving delicately and appealingly to accommodate the slightest plumpness in her lower belly.
The flesh above her belly was not without its curves as well. Her breasts were D-cups, and after a year of the academy’s athletic training their weight did not bother her small frame as much. Anaís adjusted her tank top and took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly and deliberately.
“You can do it… You can do it…” she began to quietly tell herself; it was the sort of centering that she needed. She was not always the quickest to grasp new spells and as a result was often one of the first to be subject to the punishment for such inability. But today was different. Anaís exhaled again and stared into the bright green eyes that watched her in the mirror, alight like a verdant fire, burning with determination. For all her flaws in the classroom, she more than made up for it in extracurriculars by doggedly pursuing whatever she set her mind to. In the days prior, she had set her mind to mastering the spell assigned for today and was ready to dazzle her instructor. There would be no tickling for her today.
A shudder ran down her spine as she remembered yesterday’s punishment. Vynnen wasn’t the only one who had done poorly on their weekly assessment. Thinking about it now, Anaís had never done well on such occasions, and as a result every week’s assessment was a certain sentence of unwilling tickle torture for her. She unconsciously wiggled her toes but then deliberately shook her head when she noticed. No. Definitely not today. Today she would show everyone what she was capable of.
“Alright, bathroom’s yours,” she said when she emerged.
As she had expected, Vynnen was on his back again and dead asleep, though the sweet expression on his face did not move her to rouse him with tickling. Not immediately anyway.
“Hey,” Anaís breathed in his ear as she tenderly shook his shoulder. Fortunately for him (and to a momentarily disappointed frown from Anaís), he slowly opened his eyes to a very welcome sight. His partner was already dressed in the tower’s uniform: a forest green bandeau that snuggly fit around her breasts and a long dress of the same color that sensually outlined the shape of her exposed belly and well-rounded hips. Both garments were decorated with flowing thin leaves of a brighter green.
Moaning one last protest, Vynnen rose up off the bed and sauntered past Anaís on his way to the bathroom, but not before his hand found her round bottom and gave it a good squeeze. She yelped and slapped after his hand, laughing when he avoided her attack and quickened his pace to the bathroom. At least he was awake now. Anaís sat on the edge of the bed and traced idle patterns in the floor with one bare toe until her partner emerged ready. Vynnen was dressed in a long dress similar to hers, though with dark olive overcloths added around his hips to add a more masculine flare. His torso was naked, save for two armbands that he wore around his lithe biceps, colored in patterns that matched the bandeau worn by his partner.
He shivered and brushed his lightly-muscled stomach and rubbed one bare foot against the other. Vicariously through his gestures Anaís felt her own self-consciousness grow.
The revealing uniforms were an important part of their studies, as they exposed prime tickle targets to their opponents during classroom exercises, providing areas to attack on their foes and guard on themselves. She took a few more seconds to admire her partner’s body, especially to admire his vulnerable body language. Perhaps her classes were already rubbing off on her, if the dark thoughts that crossed her mind and the coy smile that crossed her face were any indicators. But such things would certainly have to wait for another day. Anaís leapt to her feet, her sudden movements snapping her partner out of whatever uncomfortable reflection he was engaged in.
“Let’s go!” she exclaimed and grabbed Vynnen’s hand. He only had time to grab his glasses from the nightstand before she pulled him to the door. She was surprisingly strong when she wanted to be. The two swiftly left their room and bounded down the hallway, the sound of their soles slapping against the floor echoed through the halls.
The floor was one of the more interesting aspects of their tower, though one that wasn’t without its own sinister purpose. It was almost a living, breathing entity, creamy beige in color, and self-efficient in every way. Anaís noticed that no matter how often she walked over it, it was always warm against her feet. Just as well, no matter how often or for how long she walked over it, her feet never became dirty or rough. If anything, she noticed that her soles had become steadily softer, cleaner, and more sensitive during her first year of walking on the floors in the tower. Not that her feet weren’t already quite soft or sensitive to begin with, but after every punishment and sparring defeat, somewhere in the back of her mind, where a part of her managed to stay sane during the maddening tortures, she noticed that the tickling had a stronger effect on her. As the delicate bottoms of her feet were subject to increasing titillation by all manner of tickle tools, it began to increasingly evoke more violent twitching and more frantic laughter.
Anaís forced those unwanted thoughts away and replaced them with ones of determination. I won’t have to put up with the tickling today! she thought to herself. I’ll show them how good of a mage I can be! Preoccupied with that thought, she didn’t notice how quickly she was rushing to the dining hall nor that she still held Vynnen’s hand and was almost dragging him along as he struggled to keep up with her.
Their breakfast was a hearty selection of pastries and simple meats and porridges. Anaís finished her meal quickly and spent the rest of the breakfast rubbing her toes against her partner’s shins, all while performing every little thing she could to make the time pass quicker. She first rapped her fingers against the desk, she rearranged her silverware to form patterns and shapes, then glanced up at Vynnen—who ate relatively peacefully despite Anaís’s distractions—and made him guess what the figure was supposed to be.
He guessed correctly almost instantly each time; there was only so much one could create with a bowl, a plate, a spoon, and a fork.
When breakfast was over, Anaís was the first one on her feet. She bounded over to the other side of the table where her partner sat, grabbed his arm before he even had time to stow away the newstablet he was reading, and pushed him up off the table to join her in her powerwalk to the morning’s first class.
“You’re really strong when you want to be,” Vynnen remarked as he watched the discarded tablet grow more and more distant before it finally disappeared behind the dining hall’s doors. His partner said nothing and instead only quickened her pace to a jog.
Though he couldn’t see her face he had a fair idea that she was smiling. And she was. Not just from his comment, but the fact that the stairs that would lead them to their class were now in sight. Anaís bounded up the stairs and must have almost tripped three times before she finally reached her target floor of the tower.
She ran quickly down the hallway and leapt into their classroom. They were the first students there.
“Ah! You’re eager to learn today! This isn’t like you, Anaís,” spoke a bright, almost musical voice. Anaís jumped when she heard it; apparently they weren’t the only ones in the room. She saw that their history teacher was sitting at her usual desk at the front left of the class. When she saw how her teacher was sitting however, she blushed furiously and felt her heart skip a beat.
Professor Ochri was one of the city-state’s most esteemed historians, and a mage that was extremely easy on the eyes for her students. She had wild and long black hair, which she kept tied in a large tail that bounced prettily on the back of her head, with two free bunches of locks that she left to frame either side of her stunning, oval face. Her eyes were a deep sky blue that seemed to twinkle behind her glasses when she spoke and read and especially when she smiled or laughed. But what captivated Anaís’s attention wasn’t the professor’s pretty face or the attractive, pale figure snuggly set in a revealing emerald robe, it was the sensual shape of her feet, propped up on the desk and crossed at the ankle. Her soles were milky-white and remarkably smooth. Small wrinkles were present along the curves of her soft heels and well-rounded arches, with the slightest tinges of a rosy glow pleasantly flushing along those tender areas and the bases of her toes.
“I...um…there’s a new spell today…” Anaís stammered and blushed, and unconsciously sat at the two-person study table closest to the teacher’s own desk, so as to have the best view of Professor Ochri’s tantalizing feet. The sight of them inspired a rush of heat that rose in her belly and slowly spread down to warm the eager lips between her legs. When did she become so obsessed? Her mind became occupied with how supple those alabaster soles would feel under her lips, under her fingers, and what sounds and reactions would be drawn from their beautiful owner. As if reading her thoughts, Professor Ochri smiled at her student before returning to the newstablet on her lap, but not before slowly, teasingly, flexing her toes, letting their rosy roundness form sensual wrinkles in her soles.
Vynnen shared his partner’s smitten stare, and himself would have chosen to sit at that particular table if Anaís had not done so first. But in the back of his mind, he knew what a mistake it was. Professor Ochri was notoriously known for picking on the students who sat at the front row of the classroom. She spread the lesson’s questions to every student, of course, but she seemed to reserve the majority of them for those who seated themselves expressly to sneak glimpses of her feet. If a student failed to answer three questions, they were summoned later in the day to receive their punishment. It was needless to say that Professor Ochri loved to ask her students questions.
Surprisingly enough, when more students arrived and the class began, Anaís had done rather well during that class. During the hour and a half of class time, she had failed to answer only one question, while her partner had failed to answer two. Several others in the class were not as fortunate. One table in particular had failed to answer many of the questions asked, much to the delight of their professor. When the class concluded, the young man and woman sitting at that table were the quickest to leave, knowing full well that they would have ample opportunity to study again later under Professor Ochri’s very thorough tutoring.
“Spell time! Spell time!” Anaís excitedly giggled when she emerged from the classroom. Vynnen followed, still shaken from how close he had come to earning their history teacher’s extracurricular guidance.
“Are you excited to see it?” she turned back to him and gushed. Her giddiness was contagious. He smiled and nodded, which caused his partner to wrap around his middle and take his hand anew on their way down the stairs and through the doors to Professor Kara’s outdoor training grounds. Sooner than he would have liked, they were there—and so was Professor Kara.
“Hello,” the teacher said with a small smile and an appraising flash of her eyes. Anaís bowed and hurriedly took her seat amidst the shrubbery and warm grass, blushing and biting her lip when the more rigid blades of grass brushed against the sides of her feet.
Professor Kara was responsible for their magic and combat training, and handled her job with the responsibility expected of someone preparing future mages to be sent to the borderlands. She was taller than Anaís and built with more voluptuous plumpness that only enhanced her beauty in the eyes of her students. Her skin was a touch more bronzed than the average Elinsilian’s alabaster complexion as well, though not enough to make her stand out too significantly amongst her fellow mages. Her face was round and attractive, with wild, dark blond hair that cascaded down to her shoulders. But there was one thing that felt out of place on her otherwise gorgeous countenance. Her eyes were an alluring mix of gray and green, though Anaís always felt that there was something off about them. Their expression was always one of… boredom; it was the word closest to what crossed Anaís’s mind. The expression went well with how strictly she regarded her students and how eagerly she punished those who were not up to par with her expectations.
Among those students was often Anaís.
Not today, Anaís thought and bounced in her seat. Today I’ll kick that spell’s ass!
When finally more students arrived and seated themselves (not without their own trouble with the ticklish grass), Professor Kara began.
“As you know, today we were assigned a new summoning spell to augment our casting in the field.”
Anaís wiggled where she sat and readied her hand, determined to be the first one to demonstrate her mastery of the spell. She was tired of the tickling punishments, tired of getting along as one of the weaker mages of her class. Everything was going to change today, she was sure of it.
“I have decided to withhold that spell, and instead explore a new one today during our class time,” Professor Kara calmly said.
Anaís’s heart sank.
“This way we can see if your raw abilities are coming along, in addition to your capacity for personal research.”
“Wait!” Anaís interrupted angrily. The teacher glanced at her. She was used to Anaís’s disruptions by now, but it surprised her that one was ready before the exercises even began.
“Yes, Anaís?”
“What about the summoning spell?”
“We’ll have that for another day.”
“You can’t just change our spells!”
A flash of fire crossed Professor Kara’s otherwise jaded eyes.
“I’m the professor. I can do whatever I think is right.”
“But I was ready for that spell!”
Vynnen winced and glanced nervously at his partner’s outburst. The expression in their teacher’s eyes changed again, this time from anger to mild interest.
“You were prepared today?”
Anaís felt her face grow hot with embarrassment as a quiet scattering of giggles erupted around her.
“Yes. I was,” she growled back.
“I’m glad to see you finally taking initiative, Anaís, but we won’t be doing that spell today, instead—”
“But that’s complete shite!” she interrupted again. This time her professor’s eyes definitely flared with anger.
“Don’t interrupt me again,” Professor Kara sternly spoke. “Your standing is bad enough as it is.”
“But you can’t just go and change the spells that you assigned us before!”
“Fine!”
Everyone fell silent after that; even Anaís felt her impulsive anger die down a little. Her professor did occasionally express irritation at her, but never had she heard such a tone of sheer exasperation.
“Why don’t you come up and perform the spell then. I suppose I shouldn’t be upset at your for being prepared for once.”
Anaís brightened immediately and leapt to her feet. Vynnen uneasily watched her trot over to Professor, who stood with her arms folded and one bare foot tapping in annoyance.
“Are you ready?” the teacher asked. Anaís nodded excitedly and immediately began to concentrate on the air before her. Summoning spells typically took longer to cast than other, more battle-ready, spells, and were often reserved only for situations when time was on their side. The eager mage traced the patterns of the necessary magical circle with her mind, first imagining their paths and then actually seeing them in the air before her, invisible to the others present. The circle was glowing a bright purple; all the necessary symbols were there, no line was out of place, and the shining color did not dull for a moment—Anaís’s practice had truly paid off. It was time for the invocation.
Still concentrating on the circle, she called on the true name of the spell. She needed only to speak it once in her mind.
There was a great puff of white smoke where the circle was, and she knew that the spell was successful as soon as she heard the creature’s cry.
A bright orange cat hovered in the air, though instead of feet, its lower body seemed to be covered in a nebulous white cloud. It meowed and lazily began to fly around Anaís, its bright green eyes flashing with interest.
“Hah!” Anaís triumphantly cried and turned to grin at Professor Kara. “A perfectly summoned chatnu!”
Her professor raised an eyebrow in amusement and a smile trembled on her lips. Anaís felt her own smile slowly fade when nothing else was said and quiet spread through the training grounds, broken only by Vynnen’s barely heard, “Oh gods…”
“Yes, very nice,” Professor Kara finally spoke, “if that wasn’t the spell that we learned a month ago.”
Anaís’s smile vanished completely and horror seized her heart. She looked uncertainly at the chatnu’s lazy path around her and turned her eyes back at her professor. From the coy smirk on her face, Anaís could tell that Professor Kara thoroughly enjoyed the expression of fearful embarrassment that crossed hers.
“Though I guess I can mark off that spell from your progress report now, you’ve certainly mastered it.” The instructor put her hands on her wide hips and smiled wickedly. “How about you try the summoning spell I originally planned for today?”
Anaís was trembling now. She had no idea what that spell was. What’s worse was that she had made a fool of herself and angered Professor Kara. In her enthusiasm to avoid the inevitable tickle torture, she only succeeded in bringing herself closer to it.
“It’s the dochin, remember? Of course you do! It’s the spell you were so excited about today.”
She had to try. How hard could it be? She knew there was one or two symbols shared by the chatnu summon spell. Anaís bit her lip and concentrated again, bringing up the magic circle in her mind and setting into it what symbols she thought would be relevant. Of course the magic circle didn’t glow very brightly, and of course when she tried to evoke it, there was nothing but a poof of white smoke with nothing that came after it. She cringed and glanced at Professor Kara, who was tapping her foot impatiently again.
“No? That’s too bad. Looks like I’ll be adding that spell to your to-be-tested list,” her tone grew stern. “For interrupting my class, your punishment will start early. It’ll last the whole class. I think three hours will teach you to pay more attention to the material. And don’t worry about sparring, Vynnen,” she added, turning to Anaís’s distraught partner, “I’ll be your opponent while Anaís is away.”
Vynnen’s face paled, but it was nothing compared to the expression of sheer terror on his partner’s. Before Anaís could so much as open her mouth to protest, roots shot through the earth and wrapped tightly around her wrists, waist, and ankles.
“No! I d—” a root gagged her mouth and muffled her indignant screams and squeals. She tried to struggle against them but found that the harder she thrashed, the tighter they bound her, just as always. In a matter of mere seconds, she was hoisted into the air, barely able to even wiggle against the roots, and carried to the nearest tree. Angry tears blurred her vision as the tree opened up for her and she felt the roots take her down deep into the tree’s underground, where a section of the tower was dedicated to punishment.
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