Bethany ran through the forest, her chest burning with exhaustion and her long red hair plastered against her face with sweat. In her mind’s eye, she could still see the wave of arrows that had come from nowhere out of the blue sky, skewering armored guards and fellow travelers alike. It was an image that forced her forward, driving her even as her body neared collapse.
How could it have happened? The road on the edge of the Great Forest was supposed to be safe! She had paid extra to join a caravan that followed that route, even though it had added almost a week to her journey. Even if it postponed her wedding, it was the more prudent choice, she had told herself, not to risk the Bad Lands and all the bandits. Now the worst that could have happened had, despite all her careful plans.
Eventually, Bethany had to stop running, grabbing on to a tree to hold up in case her rubbery legs failed. She wiped the tears from her green eyes and forced air into her starving lungs. She had absolutely no idea what to do next.
Her life wasn’t supposed to be like this! She may not have been born rich or smart, but she had been born beautiful damn it, and that had to count for something! It was her good looks that had saved her from a life of drudgery as a farmer’s wife. The summer after she had turned eighteen, Bethany's beauty had so attracted a merchant traveling from the big city that he was willing to accept only a token dowry, one even her poor parents could afford, in exchange for her hand in marriage.
She had spent many hours picturing her new life. She'd be living in a major metropolis instead of a dirt filled collection of huts. Instead of milking cows and threshing wheat, Bethany would chat with customers and supervise a small household staff. Instead of going to bed every night exhausted and bone weary, the merchant would take her to the opera or museums. It would be an ideal life.
And now, instead of all that, she was running for her life, chased by bandits through a forest filled with dangerous creatures! What could she possibly do now? Was there any chance of her living to see the sunset?
As if in answer to her question, Bethany heard a twang and felt a stinging sensation on her left cheek. The arrow had barely broken the skin, leaving only a scratch and a thin red line of blood on her cheek before thumping into a nearby tree, but it was enough to send Bethany into a panic. New strength flooded through Bethany's body as she took off running again without even taking a glance behind her to see who her shooter was.
Confusion as well as weariness vanished from the woman. Her mind, channeling generations of prey, forecast all possible outcomes of her flight. To stay on the path meant death. Bethany couldn't outrun the hunter forever and the dirt track was a trail even a blind mouse could follow. Eventually, sooner rather than later, probably, the bandit would catch her.
No, Bethany's only chance was to hide, disappear like a cat in the tall grass or a frog in a green marsh, and vanish from sight.
Even as she ran, a strange sensation was spreading through her body, a not unpleasant tingle, working its way down her arms and legs. Normally, it would have been a minor thing, barely thought about or commented on. In Bethany's panic filled adrenaline rush, it went completely unnoticed. All her body was interested in was staying alive. The only conscious thoughts working through her brain were on finding a place to hide.
And there it was! As the path turned, putting a wall of thick trees between Bethany and her pursuer, she saw a giant bush off to one side, a huge hedge row. It looked like the ones farmers in her village planted between fields, to keep animals in and their neighbors prying eyes out, except much bigger. The branches were tightly woven together, except for a small gap right in the center.
Bethany left the path and ran for the bush, diving for that spot The gap led to a hollow inside the shrubbery, an old animals nest perhaps. It wasn't big, but then again neither was she, a slender woman of barley five feet. She wiggled back as far as she could, out of sight from anyone on the path. Then she waited, listening.
Bethany hoped to hear the sound of footsteps, running blindly past the bush, oblivious to her hiding place, maybe even a gruff voice cursing that the pretty woman he was hunting had just disappeared. Then maybe she could leave the bush the way she had come in, double back up the path and make her way back to the king's highway. Then she could find other travelers who could help her. Surely the story of her caravan being attacked would stir the heartstrings of some kind soul.
But the only sound she heard was the beating of her own heart. The was absolutely nothing, not even the rustling of the leaves. Was she still being followed? Perhaps the bandit who'd shot the arrow had given up and returned to the rest of his gang? Or had he seen through her plans completely and was standing outside the bush, patiently waiting for her to emerge? Either way, Bethany dared not leave. She was trapped.
At least she was safe for the moment. A big bear of a man, as Bethany was sure her bandit pursuer must be, could never fit into the narrow space between branches. She could picture his hairy arms and barrel like chest getting ripped to shreds by the thorns. It would serve him right!
Minutes passed. Bethany's legs and back started cramping from being bent in such an awkward position. How long would this criminal wait, if indeed he hadn't already given up? She couldn't be that important to him, could she?
Then Bethany heard an awful sound. Thwack! The sound of metal smacking into wood. Then again. She had heard that sound many times at home. No! Her bandit, the giant man chasing her was trying to chop through the bush! The branches were thick and twined together densely, but every cut would send bits and pieces of them flying off into space. Eventually, he would reach her! Hiding was no longer an option. What was she going to do?
Bethany turned away from the path, facing into the bush. Hmm, Maybe the branches weren't quite as densely packed as she'd feared after all. There seeemd to be room for a slender girl to snake her way through! She started crawling through the bush, away from the bandit and his sword. At home these hedge rows were miles long but much thicker than a tall man lying down. She could get through before her attacker had chopped half way, then she would run, find a better hiding place or another path that would lead to safety.
At first it seemed easy, so easy, in fact, that Bethany had the ludicrous idea that the hedge itself was opening up and letting her through. In only minutes, she was three feet in, close to the center of the bush. Then, like a beast awakened, the plant started making her escape difficult. Thorns, long and sharp, went from being spaced every foot or so to every couple of inches. There was no avoiding them. Worse, they kept getting caught on her dress, snagging deep into the fabric.
Bethany's traveling outfit was made of thick flaxen linen. It was very difficult tear and it protected Bethany's skin wonderfully, but she had to find and break off every thorn that impaled it before she was free to continue crawling away. That meant finding the bramble and snapping it off. And that took time. Bethny's progress was suddenly measured in inches.
At one point, dozens of thorns pierced her dress at once, as if ganing up on her after realizing attacking one at a time was futile. Each held on as tightly as a hook in a fish's mouth. Struggling, Bethany tried to pull her way free, to yank the dress off the brambles again and again, but she failed. She was trapped.
The thwacking noise was getting louder, practically ringing in Bethany's ears. The bandit must be getting closer! At the speed he was gaining on her, Bethany knew he would be on top of her before she could free her dress. Seeing no other option, Bethany reluctantly undid the front buttons on her dress and squirmed out of it.
Now, dressed only in a thin, sleeveless chemise, Bethany crawled forward again, pulling farther away from the bandit. She was sure her fair skin would now be scratched and bloodied, a price necessary to pay for freedom. She flinched at every touch of a branch on her sides or bare arms, but, suddenly, the thorns were gone. In fact there seemed to be nothing sharp or pointy at all! What an amazing stroke of good luck!
The luck didn't last. As if making up for the absence of prickers, the bush seemed to be getting thicker and thicker, making it harder to push the foliage out of her way. At times, she felt cocooned in the plant, pressed upon by countless sticks, twigs and leaves. Bethany was reduced to squirming on her belly like a worm, pushing aside branches and stems, pulling herself forward inch by inch.
Yet, through it all, the bandit sounded no closer. If anything, the sound of his sword was getting softer, more distant. Maybe the stubborn plant was even harder to cut through than to crawl through!
It took what seemed like hours, the hedge being much wider than the ones at home. Just when Bethany was about to give up hope, however, her hands pushed a thick stem aside and slipped into open air. The bush had ended at last! Freedom was just ahead and her chopping bandit still a good distance behind by the sound of his sword. She was going to make it!
Just then, the entire bush shook, as if a giant wind had blown against every bow and bramble though Bethany felt no air against her body. The ends of several branches, pressed against her ribs, began to vibrate strangely. Bethany could feel them through the silky chemise, and, unexpectedly, a new feeling swept over her, one she had felt before, but never to this intensity. It tickled.
“he ehehe ehe ehe eheeehe eheeeh ehehehe eheh,” she giggled. The laughing fit lasted for several seconds, robbing Bethany of the ability to pull herself forward, before suddenly ending.
“That was weird,” she whispered, pulling herself together. As the most attractive girl in her village, Bethany had been tickled before. It was an excuse the boys used often to try and touch a female's sides or knees, and had done so to her frequently after puberty. But Bethany had never been very ticklish. It had been easy to suppress any laughter and angrily snap at the boy touching her. Without the excuse of making her laugh, they had eventually found more responsive victims, leaving her alone at least when it came to pokes and prods. Why would she be so sensitive now?
“Stress of the moment,” Bethany whispered. Shaking it off, she tried again, pushing with her legs and pulling with her arms, to slide her body out of the shrub. Again the branches started to quiver against her sides, sending more ticklish waves flooding through her body.
“hHE EHE ehe eheheh eheheheh nawwwooo he eheheheheeheh HE EHE eheehe,” This time there seemed to be more sticks poking her body, wiggling like wooden fingers over her chemise from her hip to just below her breasts. They forced her to laugh deeper and louder, turning her muscles to goo so she couldn't escape. Bethany tried desperately to stifle her sounds of merriment, not wanting the bandit to know how close she was to freedom, but she couldn't. This time it took almost a agonizing minute for the bush to stop moving.
“This is ridiculous! I won't be beaten by a plant!” Bethany squeaked as the sensation died down again. She was stronger than this, she knew it! Tickling or not, she could make her arms and legs obey! She just needed to...focus!
Fear suddenly rose to assist that focus when the dreaded sound of metal on wood rang out again, this time sounding like just a foot behind her. Bethany was sure if she turned her head she would see the steel blade glistening in the sun. Truly, the moment of truth had arrived.
“I have to get out, now or it'll be to late.” Bethany said to herself. She grabbed a double handful of branches and coiled her legs behind her. She was going to shoot herself out now, catapult to freedom like a stone coming out of a sling shot! She built up tension in her arms as she silently counted down...1, 2, 3!
On three, the branches vibrated again, and this time they brought friends. With her chemise being sleeveless, there was nothing to protect her arms. While the branches began poking at her ribs through the silky undergarment, twigs began scratching Bethany's biceps, gliding over her soft skin.
Again, all hopes of forward motion died as the tension in her muscles evaporated. Her body giving her no choice, the redhead howled like a stuck pig, even though it gave away her location to every bandit it the woods. Bethany tried to pull her arms back to her sides, to fight off the tormenting vegetable matter, but the branches she had been holding onto for leverage had wrapped themselves her wrists, trapping them. Bethany pulled with all her strength, but the wood might as well have been steel.
“AHA A AHAHA AHAHAHAHAH NAWWWOOOOO AHA AHAHAHH STAWWPPP AHA AHAH GETETT AH AHA AHAH GEEETTTT AH AHAHH OFFFF AHA AHAH OFFFF AH AHAH MEEEEEEEE EH EHEHEHE EHE!!!”
It was awful. The soft chemise let even the rough wooden tips of the branches slide effortlessly over her sides and tap between her ribs. They skated up and down and side to side. Meanwhile the twigs lightly traced the curve of Bethany's upper arm, like a lover exploring her body's curves.
“HE EH EEHE EHEHHEHEH NAWWWOOOOO HE EHEHE EHEH GAAAHHHHTTT EH EHEH EHEH GOOOOOTTT EH EHEHH TO STAWWPPPP EHEH EHE GAAHHHHTTTT TO HE EHEH GEEHHHHTTTTT HE EHEH OUUTTT HE EHEEHEH!!!!!”
But Bethany's body just wasn't hers to command. It was as if all her strength was being drained away. That had never happened when the boys and squeezed or poked her. If anything, the anger the attempted tickle caused had fueled more than one vicious slap to the face or kick to one of the boy's vulnerable spots.
And it didn't stop. Not after a few seconds or even minutes. If anything, the tickling only got worse. The twigs moved from her biceps into her underarms, swirling around in her deep hollows. The rough tips scratching as they tickled the tender flesh, staring at the outer edge, but moving to her armpit's very center. And, if sensing that bare skin tickled more than flesh covered by silk, leaves slipped the bottom of her chemise and started swooping over her exposed calves. Hairy strands on the leaves undersides squirmed as if they had life of their own, driving Bethany crazy!
This was wrong! I'm not ticklish, I'm not ticklish! Bethany wanted to yell those words, but was rapidly running out of air. She longed for the unreceptive skin of her youth. What had changed? And why now?!
Bethany had no idea being ticklish was so bad, so intense! Images flooded her hysterical brain of the other village girls, the really sensitive ones, being tickled by the boys after they'd learned to leave her alone. She had enjoyed watching them turn the otrher girls into squealing mounds of flesh. She hadn't understood then how they could be so weak, how something Bethany could resit so easily could drive them insane. Now she knew
“HE EHE EHE EEHEH EHEH EHE NOOOWOWWW HE EHEHEHEH NOOWW HE EHEH I ii HE EH EHEHEH EHE I I I I I KNOWWWWWWWW HE EHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEH!!!!!!!!!!
More and more branches and twigs, practically covering her sides, arms and underarms now. Bethany's lungs burned far worse than during her crazed flight through the forest, and she was starting to see flashes of bright light. God, it tickled so much! Soon the bush would be tickling every inch of her slender body. How could she possibly stand it!
“HE EHEH HELLLPPP HE EHEHEHHE HELLPPPPP HE EHEHEH EHEH HELLLLLLLPPPPPPPP EHE HE EHEH ME PLEAASSEEEEEE HE EHE HEH PLEEEAASASSEE EHE HE EHEHEH!!!! I'LLLLL HE EHE EHEH EHEH I'LLLL EHE EHEHHEHH DOOOO ANYYYTHINNGG HE EHEHEHH EHE ANNNYYYTHINGGGG!!!!!”
Part of Bethany's brain knew that the only one who could possible help her was the bandit she had been trying to hard to flee from just a few moments ago, the one she had been prepared to fight with her last breath. But the leaves were moving to the backs of her knees, tickling and caressing with a touch so gentle it was maddening. And they were still moving higher! The thought of that steel blade cutting through this evil plant was the only hope she had to hold onto. She would do anything to see that happen.
But it didn't! Where was an evil bandit when you needed him! Bethany's feet were kicking wildly and she twisted and turned her torso from side to side, desperately trying to knock off some of the tickling plant parts. Every branch, leaf and twig stuck to her as if they were coated in molasses. Her suffering went unabated.
Bethany lungs were becoming to air starved to call for help anymore. Only guttural, animal like noises escaped her lips. Soon, she knew, she'd pass out. Would the shrub let her ever awaken, or would she die in this organic cave, soon to decay and supply nutrients for this monster of a vegetable?
“Merhhhhhrrcccyyyyyyyy meeerrrccyyyyyy massstterrrrrrrrr. He ehe eheeheh eheh” Bethany managed to choked out.
Then, Bethany felt two vines tangle themselves around her ankles. Even in the middle of her suffering, she felt grateful that she was still wearing her leather boots. Even before, when she hadn't been very ticklish, her feet could still force some giggles out of her. She hated the thought of what tickling them could do now.
The vines made no attempt to undo her boots. Instead they began pulling Bethany backwards, sliding her on her belly back the way she came. Only a few minutes ago, this would have panicked the former farmer's daughter because it was forcing her back to the pursuer she was trying so hard to escape from. But now, it had the opposite effect. It brought Bethany relief from the tickling.
As she moved backwards, she was moving away from the plant parts that had been tormenting her the most. First the twigs tickling her underarms fell away, then the branches poking her in the ribs. Only the leaves, brushing the inside of Bethany's thighs kept tormenting her, but even they seemed to have a lighter touch, more teasing than tormenting. Her laughter slowing, Bethany was able to catch her breath and sanity started returning to her brain. For a second she hoped the worst was over.
For a second.
Being dragged over the ground caused her chemise to start riding up. First it uncovered her legs, then her bottom. Finally it bunched up just underneath her breasts, exposing her body below the shoulders. As if guided by unseen eyes, pussy willows droop down from the tangle of branches, and start tickling her bare back and behind.
The tips of the pussy willows were fuzzy, the bristles more prickly than goat hair. The ones dancing between her shoulder blades or running up and down her spine were bad enough, but the ones stroking her bottom were the worst. Bethany was wearing panties, but they didn't cover the bottom of her ass, where it curved into her legs. It was that rounded flesh that two of the willows started stroking.
“OH H HOHOHO HOIHOHO HNOOWOOO HO HOHO NAWWTT AGAINN HO HOH HOHO HOHOHO NAWWWWTTTTTT ANO HOHOHOHO HOHOHO NAWWWTTT AGAAIIINNN HHOOOO HOH HOHOHOH AHHHHHHHRRGGGGG HA AH AHA AHAH AAAAAAHHHH MEEERRRCCYYYYY AH AHAH!!!!!”
Tortured again so soon was just too much for the redhead. Her now freed hands began to pound into the dirt leaving round marks in the soil as her body was racked by overwhelming ticklishness. Inch by inch she moved backwards, surrendering the hard fought for ground, laughing hysterically knowing that every second was bringing her back to the place, the person she had tried to hard to escape from.
Yet she made no effort to break free from the vines pulling her ankles, no attempt to anchor herself inside the bush. She had to escape from the tormenting plant, and if that meant putting her into the hands of the bandit, so be it. If he took advantage of her, stole her virginity...at least it might be mercifully short.
As her hands had broken through the one side of the bush only minutes before, now her feet slid through the opposite end, back out of the gap she had willing dove into not so long ago. Then Bethany felt strong hands grab her by the boots knocking off the vines, and take over their job of pulling her out of the awful hedge. The pussy willows stopped tormenting her as first her legs, then her torso slid squeezed out of the confining branches.
As her shoulders crossed the threshold between plant and fresh air, her chemise, still bundled up beneath her breasts, gets caught on something. Thorns, suddenly reappearing or roots or something else held it fast, keeping the top part of Bethany from escaping the plant. Its as if the shrubbery decided not to release its victim after all.
The hands on Bethany's ankles, however, aren't willing to give up either. They give an almost superhuman yank, snapping off branches and forcing her head and shoulders out into the open. Her chemise, however, ripped in half over both parts staying in the bush, leaving Bethany practically naked.
Wearing only her panties and her leather boots, Bethany quickly wraps her hands around her breasts. Little bigger than half a grapefruit, they are firm but not full enough to need the extra support of a bra. Body racked by exhaustion and covered in sweat, Bethany regrets this as she looks up into the eyes of the man who is both her savior and her greatest threat...
...only to find he's not a man at all or even human! A female elf stood over Bethany, long black hair in a pony tail, wearing a simple green dress with a quiver of arrows on her back. Despite her youthful appearance, apparently only a few years older than Bethany, she did not smile or offer a hand to help the redhead as she lay on the ground gasping for breath. She simply studied the mostly nude redhead as if she were an interesting natural flora.
Bethany didn't notice her rescuers lack of emotion at first. She had enough of her own to share. Her first impulse was to thank this strange elf woman. Surely she had driven away the bandit man that had chased her from the spot her caravan had been massacred. Only her shortness of breath kept her from doing this, only the fact that her arms are too heavy to lift stops her from trying to shake this elf maiden's hand. For one, blissful second, Bethany feet rescued.
Yet as Bethany lay their, looking up at her savior, she noticed that the elf woman did have a smile on her face. Small and sly, it was not the look a look of joy or relief, but one of triumph, like a hunter wears after it brags its prey. Something was wrong. Even a sheltered, naive farmers daughter could sense it.
For a second, it was like time froze. Bethany's eyes were drawn to the elf's quiver, focusing on the arrows sticking out from the top. Images, flash frozen in Bethany's brain, suddenly popped up. One was of an arrow stuck in the shield of a caravan guard as he braced himself against the incoming attack. And another of the arrow that had scratched her own cheek, lodged in that tree, as she ran down the path. It was like the memories were paintings, pictures she could study at her leisure, comparing and contrasting to the arrows her elf “rescuer” held in front of her.
The arrows all had the exact same fletching.
“You!” Bethany barked, a sick feeling growing in her stomach. It all made sense now. The reason the caravan route near the Great Forest was so much safer than the one through the Bad Lands was that the elves wouldn't let strangers operate anywhere near there. There were no bandits near the Great Forest caravan trail! They couldn't have attacked her party. That only left...
“It was the elves! You attacked the my caravan, murdered innocent people! You chased me through the forest, made me hide in that bush! This is all your fault!”
“I did more than that,” the elf woman gloated, “I'm the one who made you so ticklish. Remember that arrow that grazed your cheek? I could have put it threw your back if I'd wanted to. It would have been a much easier shot. No, I used the arrow to deliver a toxin into your blood that makes humans far more...sensitive. That made you easier to capture.”
“Why, oh why do this?” Bethany's hand moved up to her cheek, brushing away a fleck of dried blood. Despair washed over her exhausted body and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“I drove you deeper into that monster shrub,” the elf continued as if Bethany hadn't said a word. She wiggled her fingers and the thwacking sound of metal on wood suddenly echoed through the clearing, “Just a bit of elven magic. A bit more and the hedge turns into a nearly sentient, tickling creature, subservient to my will”
Bethany noticed for the first time that not a branch had been broken off the hedge row. She doubted the elf even had a sword on her. Of course. An elf would never harm nature. Apparently they saved that for humanity.
“Why? Why do such horrible things to me?” Bethany repeated, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Because you are one of the most attractive humans I've ever seen,” the elf woman's sly grin now became bigger, more...wicked, “Even more so wearing so very little. I like possessing pretty things. Now I own you.” The elf's eyes were anything but emotionless now. Suddenly they were a fire with lust, they kind normally only seem on drunken men late in the evening. Those eyes certainly seemed to drink in Bethany's mostly naked body, hugging her curves and dancing over her flesh.
A flush came to Bethany's face and a embarrassment so powerful it made her want to run into the deepest part of the forest back to escape it. What the elf was feeling was something Bethany would have never guessed one woman could feel for another. It was bad enough from a man, but from another female...it made her feel dirty, just for standing there, made her actually consider going back into the tickling bush just to get her dress, anything to cover herself from those awful leering elf eyes.
“No...no, you don't own me,” Bethany stood up, legs wobbling, “You can't do...that...to me. I won't...won't let you do that.” In her innocence, Bethany wasn't sure exactly was 'that' was, especially between to women, but she knew she wanted no part of it.
The elf quickly reached forward and grabbed both Bethany's wrists, holding them fast. She pulled Bathany's hands away from her body, uncovering her bare breasts. There was power in the elf woman's grasp and Bethany knew she couldn't have broken it, not even had most of her strength not been tickled away.
“Yes, I can and you will,” The elf woman lifted one of Bethany's hands to her lips and gave it a fiery kiss, “Or I can push you back into the bush. What will it be?”
Bethany looked backwards and saw that the hedge row was still writhing, like a wounded octopus. She had no doubt what fate awaited her amidst that horrible foliage. The tickling had been awful, and she knew that if the shrub got its branches wrapped around her again, it would never release her. A fate too horrible to comprehend.
Meekly, Bethany lowered her head in acquiescence.
“Excellent,” the elf grabbed Bethany's wrists and began wrapping a silken cord around them. She did not even have to bother tying the ends in a knot, because once the elf woman got done, the silken cord no longer had ends. Elven magic had somehow fused the cord into one piece, making escape almost impossible.
“Now, Bethany, lets get you to your new life. If you didn't like the bush, you're truly going to hate it.”
How could it have happened? The road on the edge of the Great Forest was supposed to be safe! She had paid extra to join a caravan that followed that route, even though it had added almost a week to her journey. Even if it postponed her wedding, it was the more prudent choice, she had told herself, not to risk the Bad Lands and all the bandits. Now the worst that could have happened had, despite all her careful plans.
Eventually, Bethany had to stop running, grabbing on to a tree to hold up in case her rubbery legs failed. She wiped the tears from her green eyes and forced air into her starving lungs. She had absolutely no idea what to do next.
Her life wasn’t supposed to be like this! She may not have been born rich or smart, but she had been born beautiful damn it, and that had to count for something! It was her good looks that had saved her from a life of drudgery as a farmer’s wife. The summer after she had turned eighteen, Bethany's beauty had so attracted a merchant traveling from the big city that he was willing to accept only a token dowry, one even her poor parents could afford, in exchange for her hand in marriage.
She had spent many hours picturing her new life. She'd be living in a major metropolis instead of a dirt filled collection of huts. Instead of milking cows and threshing wheat, Bethany would chat with customers and supervise a small household staff. Instead of going to bed every night exhausted and bone weary, the merchant would take her to the opera or museums. It would be an ideal life.
And now, instead of all that, she was running for her life, chased by bandits through a forest filled with dangerous creatures! What could she possibly do now? Was there any chance of her living to see the sunset?
As if in answer to her question, Bethany heard a twang and felt a stinging sensation on her left cheek. The arrow had barely broken the skin, leaving only a scratch and a thin red line of blood on her cheek before thumping into a nearby tree, but it was enough to send Bethany into a panic. New strength flooded through Bethany's body as she took off running again without even taking a glance behind her to see who her shooter was.
Confusion as well as weariness vanished from the woman. Her mind, channeling generations of prey, forecast all possible outcomes of her flight. To stay on the path meant death. Bethany couldn't outrun the hunter forever and the dirt track was a trail even a blind mouse could follow. Eventually, sooner rather than later, probably, the bandit would catch her.
No, Bethany's only chance was to hide, disappear like a cat in the tall grass or a frog in a green marsh, and vanish from sight.
Even as she ran, a strange sensation was spreading through her body, a not unpleasant tingle, working its way down her arms and legs. Normally, it would have been a minor thing, barely thought about or commented on. In Bethany's panic filled adrenaline rush, it went completely unnoticed. All her body was interested in was staying alive. The only conscious thoughts working through her brain were on finding a place to hide.
And there it was! As the path turned, putting a wall of thick trees between Bethany and her pursuer, she saw a giant bush off to one side, a huge hedge row. It looked like the ones farmers in her village planted between fields, to keep animals in and their neighbors prying eyes out, except much bigger. The branches were tightly woven together, except for a small gap right in the center.
Bethany left the path and ran for the bush, diving for that spot The gap led to a hollow inside the shrubbery, an old animals nest perhaps. It wasn't big, but then again neither was she, a slender woman of barley five feet. She wiggled back as far as she could, out of sight from anyone on the path. Then she waited, listening.
Bethany hoped to hear the sound of footsteps, running blindly past the bush, oblivious to her hiding place, maybe even a gruff voice cursing that the pretty woman he was hunting had just disappeared. Then maybe she could leave the bush the way she had come in, double back up the path and make her way back to the king's highway. Then she could find other travelers who could help her. Surely the story of her caravan being attacked would stir the heartstrings of some kind soul.
But the only sound she heard was the beating of her own heart. The was absolutely nothing, not even the rustling of the leaves. Was she still being followed? Perhaps the bandit who'd shot the arrow had given up and returned to the rest of his gang? Or had he seen through her plans completely and was standing outside the bush, patiently waiting for her to emerge? Either way, Bethany dared not leave. She was trapped.
At least she was safe for the moment. A big bear of a man, as Bethany was sure her bandit pursuer must be, could never fit into the narrow space between branches. She could picture his hairy arms and barrel like chest getting ripped to shreds by the thorns. It would serve him right!
Minutes passed. Bethany's legs and back started cramping from being bent in such an awkward position. How long would this criminal wait, if indeed he hadn't already given up? She couldn't be that important to him, could she?
Then Bethany heard an awful sound. Thwack! The sound of metal smacking into wood. Then again. She had heard that sound many times at home. No! Her bandit, the giant man chasing her was trying to chop through the bush! The branches were thick and twined together densely, but every cut would send bits and pieces of them flying off into space. Eventually, he would reach her! Hiding was no longer an option. What was she going to do?
Bethany turned away from the path, facing into the bush. Hmm, Maybe the branches weren't quite as densely packed as she'd feared after all. There seeemd to be room for a slender girl to snake her way through! She started crawling through the bush, away from the bandit and his sword. At home these hedge rows were miles long but much thicker than a tall man lying down. She could get through before her attacker had chopped half way, then she would run, find a better hiding place or another path that would lead to safety.
At first it seemed easy, so easy, in fact, that Bethany had the ludicrous idea that the hedge itself was opening up and letting her through. In only minutes, she was three feet in, close to the center of the bush. Then, like a beast awakened, the plant started making her escape difficult. Thorns, long and sharp, went from being spaced every foot or so to every couple of inches. There was no avoiding them. Worse, they kept getting caught on her dress, snagging deep into the fabric.
Bethany's traveling outfit was made of thick flaxen linen. It was very difficult tear and it protected Bethany's skin wonderfully, but she had to find and break off every thorn that impaled it before she was free to continue crawling away. That meant finding the bramble and snapping it off. And that took time. Bethny's progress was suddenly measured in inches.
At one point, dozens of thorns pierced her dress at once, as if ganing up on her after realizing attacking one at a time was futile. Each held on as tightly as a hook in a fish's mouth. Struggling, Bethany tried to pull her way free, to yank the dress off the brambles again and again, but she failed. She was trapped.
The thwacking noise was getting louder, practically ringing in Bethany's ears. The bandit must be getting closer! At the speed he was gaining on her, Bethany knew he would be on top of her before she could free her dress. Seeing no other option, Bethany reluctantly undid the front buttons on her dress and squirmed out of it.
Now, dressed only in a thin, sleeveless chemise, Bethany crawled forward again, pulling farther away from the bandit. She was sure her fair skin would now be scratched and bloodied, a price necessary to pay for freedom. She flinched at every touch of a branch on her sides or bare arms, but, suddenly, the thorns were gone. In fact there seemed to be nothing sharp or pointy at all! What an amazing stroke of good luck!
The luck didn't last. As if making up for the absence of prickers, the bush seemed to be getting thicker and thicker, making it harder to push the foliage out of her way. At times, she felt cocooned in the plant, pressed upon by countless sticks, twigs and leaves. Bethany was reduced to squirming on her belly like a worm, pushing aside branches and stems, pulling herself forward inch by inch.
Yet, through it all, the bandit sounded no closer. If anything, the sound of his sword was getting softer, more distant. Maybe the stubborn plant was even harder to cut through than to crawl through!
It took what seemed like hours, the hedge being much wider than the ones at home. Just when Bethany was about to give up hope, however, her hands pushed a thick stem aside and slipped into open air. The bush had ended at last! Freedom was just ahead and her chopping bandit still a good distance behind by the sound of his sword. She was going to make it!
Just then, the entire bush shook, as if a giant wind had blown against every bow and bramble though Bethany felt no air against her body. The ends of several branches, pressed against her ribs, began to vibrate strangely. Bethany could feel them through the silky chemise, and, unexpectedly, a new feeling swept over her, one she had felt before, but never to this intensity. It tickled.
“he ehehe ehe ehe eheeehe eheeeh ehehehe eheh,” she giggled. The laughing fit lasted for several seconds, robbing Bethany of the ability to pull herself forward, before suddenly ending.
“That was weird,” she whispered, pulling herself together. As the most attractive girl in her village, Bethany had been tickled before. It was an excuse the boys used often to try and touch a female's sides or knees, and had done so to her frequently after puberty. But Bethany had never been very ticklish. It had been easy to suppress any laughter and angrily snap at the boy touching her. Without the excuse of making her laugh, they had eventually found more responsive victims, leaving her alone at least when it came to pokes and prods. Why would she be so sensitive now?
“Stress of the moment,” Bethany whispered. Shaking it off, she tried again, pushing with her legs and pulling with her arms, to slide her body out of the shrub. Again the branches started to quiver against her sides, sending more ticklish waves flooding through her body.
“hHE EHE ehe eheheh eheheheh nawwwooo he eheheheheeheh HE EHE eheehe,” This time there seemed to be more sticks poking her body, wiggling like wooden fingers over her chemise from her hip to just below her breasts. They forced her to laugh deeper and louder, turning her muscles to goo so she couldn't escape. Bethany tried desperately to stifle her sounds of merriment, not wanting the bandit to know how close she was to freedom, but she couldn't. This time it took almost a agonizing minute for the bush to stop moving.
“This is ridiculous! I won't be beaten by a plant!” Bethany squeaked as the sensation died down again. She was stronger than this, she knew it! Tickling or not, she could make her arms and legs obey! She just needed to...focus!
Fear suddenly rose to assist that focus when the dreaded sound of metal on wood rang out again, this time sounding like just a foot behind her. Bethany was sure if she turned her head she would see the steel blade glistening in the sun. Truly, the moment of truth had arrived.
“I have to get out, now or it'll be to late.” Bethany said to herself. She grabbed a double handful of branches and coiled her legs behind her. She was going to shoot herself out now, catapult to freedom like a stone coming out of a sling shot! She built up tension in her arms as she silently counted down...1, 2, 3!
On three, the branches vibrated again, and this time they brought friends. With her chemise being sleeveless, there was nothing to protect her arms. While the branches began poking at her ribs through the silky undergarment, twigs began scratching Bethany's biceps, gliding over her soft skin.
Again, all hopes of forward motion died as the tension in her muscles evaporated. Her body giving her no choice, the redhead howled like a stuck pig, even though it gave away her location to every bandit it the woods. Bethany tried to pull her arms back to her sides, to fight off the tormenting vegetable matter, but the branches she had been holding onto for leverage had wrapped themselves her wrists, trapping them. Bethany pulled with all her strength, but the wood might as well have been steel.
“AHA A AHAHA AHAHAHAHAH NAWWWOOOOO AHA AHAHAHH STAWWPPP AHA AHAH GETETT AH AHA AHAH GEEETTTT AH AHAHH OFFFF AHA AHAH OFFFF AH AHAH MEEEEEEEE EH EHEHEHE EHE!!!”
It was awful. The soft chemise let even the rough wooden tips of the branches slide effortlessly over her sides and tap between her ribs. They skated up and down and side to side. Meanwhile the twigs lightly traced the curve of Bethany's upper arm, like a lover exploring her body's curves.
“HE EH EEHE EHEHHEHEH NAWWWOOOOO HE EHEHE EHEH GAAAHHHHTTT EH EHEH EHEH GOOOOOTTT EH EHEHH TO STAWWPPPP EHEH EHE GAAHHHHTTTT TO HE EHEH GEEHHHHTTTTT HE EHEH OUUTTT HE EHEEHEH!!!!!”
But Bethany's body just wasn't hers to command. It was as if all her strength was being drained away. That had never happened when the boys and squeezed or poked her. If anything, the anger the attempted tickle caused had fueled more than one vicious slap to the face or kick to one of the boy's vulnerable spots.
And it didn't stop. Not after a few seconds or even minutes. If anything, the tickling only got worse. The twigs moved from her biceps into her underarms, swirling around in her deep hollows. The rough tips scratching as they tickled the tender flesh, staring at the outer edge, but moving to her armpit's very center. And, if sensing that bare skin tickled more than flesh covered by silk, leaves slipped the bottom of her chemise and started swooping over her exposed calves. Hairy strands on the leaves undersides squirmed as if they had life of their own, driving Bethany crazy!
This was wrong! I'm not ticklish, I'm not ticklish! Bethany wanted to yell those words, but was rapidly running out of air. She longed for the unreceptive skin of her youth. What had changed? And why now?!
Bethany had no idea being ticklish was so bad, so intense! Images flooded her hysterical brain of the other village girls, the really sensitive ones, being tickled by the boys after they'd learned to leave her alone. She had enjoyed watching them turn the otrher girls into squealing mounds of flesh. She hadn't understood then how they could be so weak, how something Bethany could resit so easily could drive them insane. Now she knew
“HE EHE EHE EEHEH EHEH EHE NOOOWOWWW HE EHEHEHEH NOOWW HE EHEH I ii HE EH EHEHEH EHE I I I I I KNOWWWWWWWW HE EHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEH!!!!!!!!!!
More and more branches and twigs, practically covering her sides, arms and underarms now. Bethany's lungs burned far worse than during her crazed flight through the forest, and she was starting to see flashes of bright light. God, it tickled so much! Soon the bush would be tickling every inch of her slender body. How could she possibly stand it!
“HE EHEH HELLLPPP HE EHEHEHHE HELLPPPPP HE EHEHEH EHEH HELLLLLLLPPPPPPPP EHE HE EHEH ME PLEAASSEEEEEE HE EHE HEH PLEEEAASASSEE EHE HE EHEHEH!!!! I'LLLLL HE EHE EHEH EHEH I'LLLL EHE EHEHHEHH DOOOO ANYYYTHINNGG HE EHEHEHH EHE ANNNYYYTHINGGGG!!!!!”
Part of Bethany's brain knew that the only one who could possible help her was the bandit she had been trying to hard to flee from just a few moments ago, the one she had been prepared to fight with her last breath. But the leaves were moving to the backs of her knees, tickling and caressing with a touch so gentle it was maddening. And they were still moving higher! The thought of that steel blade cutting through this evil plant was the only hope she had to hold onto. She would do anything to see that happen.
But it didn't! Where was an evil bandit when you needed him! Bethany's feet were kicking wildly and she twisted and turned her torso from side to side, desperately trying to knock off some of the tickling plant parts. Every branch, leaf and twig stuck to her as if they were coated in molasses. Her suffering went unabated.
Bethany lungs were becoming to air starved to call for help anymore. Only guttural, animal like noises escaped her lips. Soon, she knew, she'd pass out. Would the shrub let her ever awaken, or would she die in this organic cave, soon to decay and supply nutrients for this monster of a vegetable?
“Merhhhhhrrcccyyyyyyyy meeerrrccyyyyyy massstterrrrrrrrr. He ehe eheeheh eheh” Bethany managed to choked out.
Then, Bethany felt two vines tangle themselves around her ankles. Even in the middle of her suffering, she felt grateful that she was still wearing her leather boots. Even before, when she hadn't been very ticklish, her feet could still force some giggles out of her. She hated the thought of what tickling them could do now.
The vines made no attempt to undo her boots. Instead they began pulling Bethany backwards, sliding her on her belly back the way she came. Only a few minutes ago, this would have panicked the former farmer's daughter because it was forcing her back to the pursuer she was trying so hard to escape from. But now, it had the opposite effect. It brought Bethany relief from the tickling.
As she moved backwards, she was moving away from the plant parts that had been tormenting her the most. First the twigs tickling her underarms fell away, then the branches poking her in the ribs. Only the leaves, brushing the inside of Bethany's thighs kept tormenting her, but even they seemed to have a lighter touch, more teasing than tormenting. Her laughter slowing, Bethany was able to catch her breath and sanity started returning to her brain. For a second she hoped the worst was over.
For a second.
Being dragged over the ground caused her chemise to start riding up. First it uncovered her legs, then her bottom. Finally it bunched up just underneath her breasts, exposing her body below the shoulders. As if guided by unseen eyes, pussy willows droop down from the tangle of branches, and start tickling her bare back and behind.
The tips of the pussy willows were fuzzy, the bristles more prickly than goat hair. The ones dancing between her shoulder blades or running up and down her spine were bad enough, but the ones stroking her bottom were the worst. Bethany was wearing panties, but they didn't cover the bottom of her ass, where it curved into her legs. It was that rounded flesh that two of the willows started stroking.
“OH H HOHOHO HOIHOHO HNOOWOOO HO HOHO NAWWTT AGAINN HO HOH HOHO HOHOHO NAWWWWTTTTTT ANO HOHOHOHO HOHOHO NAWWWTTT AGAAIIINNN HHOOOO HOH HOHOHOH AHHHHHHHRRGGGGG HA AH AHA AHAH AAAAAAHHHH MEEERRRCCYYYYY AH AHAH!!!!!”
Tortured again so soon was just too much for the redhead. Her now freed hands began to pound into the dirt leaving round marks in the soil as her body was racked by overwhelming ticklishness. Inch by inch she moved backwards, surrendering the hard fought for ground, laughing hysterically knowing that every second was bringing her back to the place, the person she had tried to hard to escape from.
Yet she made no effort to break free from the vines pulling her ankles, no attempt to anchor herself inside the bush. She had to escape from the tormenting plant, and if that meant putting her into the hands of the bandit, so be it. If he took advantage of her, stole her virginity...at least it might be mercifully short.
As her hands had broken through the one side of the bush only minutes before, now her feet slid through the opposite end, back out of the gap she had willing dove into not so long ago. Then Bethany felt strong hands grab her by the boots knocking off the vines, and take over their job of pulling her out of the awful hedge. The pussy willows stopped tormenting her as first her legs, then her torso slid squeezed out of the confining branches.
As her shoulders crossed the threshold between plant and fresh air, her chemise, still bundled up beneath her breasts, gets caught on something. Thorns, suddenly reappearing or roots or something else held it fast, keeping the top part of Bethany from escaping the plant. Its as if the shrubbery decided not to release its victim after all.
The hands on Bethany's ankles, however, aren't willing to give up either. They give an almost superhuman yank, snapping off branches and forcing her head and shoulders out into the open. Her chemise, however, ripped in half over both parts staying in the bush, leaving Bethany practically naked.
Wearing only her panties and her leather boots, Bethany quickly wraps her hands around her breasts. Little bigger than half a grapefruit, they are firm but not full enough to need the extra support of a bra. Body racked by exhaustion and covered in sweat, Bethany regrets this as she looks up into the eyes of the man who is both her savior and her greatest threat...
...only to find he's not a man at all or even human! A female elf stood over Bethany, long black hair in a pony tail, wearing a simple green dress with a quiver of arrows on her back. Despite her youthful appearance, apparently only a few years older than Bethany, she did not smile or offer a hand to help the redhead as she lay on the ground gasping for breath. She simply studied the mostly nude redhead as if she were an interesting natural flora.
Bethany didn't notice her rescuers lack of emotion at first. She had enough of her own to share. Her first impulse was to thank this strange elf woman. Surely she had driven away the bandit man that had chased her from the spot her caravan had been massacred. Only her shortness of breath kept her from doing this, only the fact that her arms are too heavy to lift stops her from trying to shake this elf maiden's hand. For one, blissful second, Bethany feet rescued.
Yet as Bethany lay their, looking up at her savior, she noticed that the elf woman did have a smile on her face. Small and sly, it was not the look a look of joy or relief, but one of triumph, like a hunter wears after it brags its prey. Something was wrong. Even a sheltered, naive farmers daughter could sense it.
For a second, it was like time froze. Bethany's eyes were drawn to the elf's quiver, focusing on the arrows sticking out from the top. Images, flash frozen in Bethany's brain, suddenly popped up. One was of an arrow stuck in the shield of a caravan guard as he braced himself against the incoming attack. And another of the arrow that had scratched her own cheek, lodged in that tree, as she ran down the path. It was like the memories were paintings, pictures she could study at her leisure, comparing and contrasting to the arrows her elf “rescuer” held in front of her.
The arrows all had the exact same fletching.
“You!” Bethany barked, a sick feeling growing in her stomach. It all made sense now. The reason the caravan route near the Great Forest was so much safer than the one through the Bad Lands was that the elves wouldn't let strangers operate anywhere near there. There were no bandits near the Great Forest caravan trail! They couldn't have attacked her party. That only left...
“It was the elves! You attacked the my caravan, murdered innocent people! You chased me through the forest, made me hide in that bush! This is all your fault!”
“I did more than that,” the elf woman gloated, “I'm the one who made you so ticklish. Remember that arrow that grazed your cheek? I could have put it threw your back if I'd wanted to. It would have been a much easier shot. No, I used the arrow to deliver a toxin into your blood that makes humans far more...sensitive. That made you easier to capture.”
“Why, oh why do this?” Bethany's hand moved up to her cheek, brushing away a fleck of dried blood. Despair washed over her exhausted body and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“I drove you deeper into that monster shrub,” the elf continued as if Bethany hadn't said a word. She wiggled her fingers and the thwacking sound of metal on wood suddenly echoed through the clearing, “Just a bit of elven magic. A bit more and the hedge turns into a nearly sentient, tickling creature, subservient to my will”
Bethany noticed for the first time that not a branch had been broken off the hedge row. She doubted the elf even had a sword on her. Of course. An elf would never harm nature. Apparently they saved that for humanity.
“Why? Why do such horrible things to me?” Bethany repeated, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Because you are one of the most attractive humans I've ever seen,” the elf woman's sly grin now became bigger, more...wicked, “Even more so wearing so very little. I like possessing pretty things. Now I own you.” The elf's eyes were anything but emotionless now. Suddenly they were a fire with lust, they kind normally only seem on drunken men late in the evening. Those eyes certainly seemed to drink in Bethany's mostly naked body, hugging her curves and dancing over her flesh.
A flush came to Bethany's face and a embarrassment so powerful it made her want to run into the deepest part of the forest back to escape it. What the elf was feeling was something Bethany would have never guessed one woman could feel for another. It was bad enough from a man, but from another female...it made her feel dirty, just for standing there, made her actually consider going back into the tickling bush just to get her dress, anything to cover herself from those awful leering elf eyes.
“No...no, you don't own me,” Bethany stood up, legs wobbling, “You can't do...that...to me. I won't...won't let you do that.” In her innocence, Bethany wasn't sure exactly was 'that' was, especially between to women, but she knew she wanted no part of it.
The elf quickly reached forward and grabbed both Bethany's wrists, holding them fast. She pulled Bathany's hands away from her body, uncovering her bare breasts. There was power in the elf woman's grasp and Bethany knew she couldn't have broken it, not even had most of her strength not been tickled away.
“Yes, I can and you will,” The elf woman lifted one of Bethany's hands to her lips and gave it a fiery kiss, “Or I can push you back into the bush. What will it be?”
Bethany looked backwards and saw that the hedge row was still writhing, like a wounded octopus. She had no doubt what fate awaited her amidst that horrible foliage. The tickling had been awful, and she knew that if the shrub got its branches wrapped around her again, it would never release her. A fate too horrible to comprehend.
Meekly, Bethany lowered her head in acquiescence.
“Excellent,” the elf grabbed Bethany's wrists and began wrapping a silken cord around them. She did not even have to bother tying the ends in a knot, because once the elf woman got done, the silken cord no longer had ends. Elven magic had somehow fused the cord into one piece, making escape almost impossible.
“Now, Bethany, lets get you to your new life. If you didn't like the bush, you're truly going to hate it.”
