Feathers01

The Prisoner sat in a thick wooden chair with faded worn cushions, her fur covered arms roped against her sides and her wrists roped together in her lap. Her bare feet, soft and impossibly smooth soled, were stretched out before her and rested in a sturdy pair of polished oak stocks. A blind fold hid her eyes, but the twitch of her ears and nose gave her all the information she needed about her surroundings. Her tail rose to swish mindfully behind her. “What the…” The prisoner could smell old wooden floorboards; a strong earthy scent mixed with the chemical touch of a polish. She could smell the colder damp of the stone walls along with the mould that gathered on them. She could hear birds and insects and other things beyond the stone walls; they were coming from above her. “Underground,” she sighed, “and I’ve been captured…again.” The prisoner let out a little sigh. This wasn’t the first time she’d been captured or tied up, which should be more embarrassing considering who

“Confound you and your blasted eagerness, Mr Fitch, this is too much!” Kristov Skittglod was not someone to be hurried into or out of any action and once he had set his cruel mind to something, any kind of variation irritated him considerably. “Yes, sir,” his companion muttered uneasily. Kristov hated change of any kind because it never went the way he willed. For him, change was an unpleasant and unwelcome companion on the road of his life. It wasn’t something that he could fight against, it simply just was, and so he treated it with as much contempt as he could spare – and that, surprisingly, was a lot. “It is bad enough,” said Kristov with genuine distaste, “that you have the sudden gall to disturb me in the midst of my sacred Bogey ticklish labours; dragging me away with your endless pitiful pleating from the saintly privacy of my own decadent abode…” “Yes, sir.” “…where I conduct with all due seclusion and unhurried secrecy, those delicate treats that a Bogey of my

For a moment, as you stand in front of Hazel, locked in the cerulean wet blue of her eyes, indecision wracks you mind. Save her? Or tickle her? I mean, when else are you going to have such freedom to tickle a Kat? “Well?” she asks and the purr trilling from her is rich and gives a pleasant vibration. Hazel looks so cute, so deliciously vulnerable, sitting there awaiting your choice. Her fate is entirely in your hands and the thought of that power is thrilling. Your eyes wander helplessly to her bare feet poking out of the stocks. She seems to notice and curls her toes as you look at them. “I’m going to save you,” you say, looking back up at her. “My hero!” she mewls happily. “But first…you don’t mind if I…” You lift your feather-fingered glove so she can see it. “Just…a little tickle…” Hazel giggles and dips her head. “For you, my hero, anything.” She winks. “Go ahead…tickle away! I promise to be a good kitty.” Even before she has finished speaking, you reach out and light

The mood was just right. I’d left the entire house in darkness, save for the tiny lamp on the little table beside the couch. If I’d have had an open fire, it would have made the scene complete - but I don’t. So, a cosy lamp would just have to be enough. Nerves were clawing at my insides, as they had been for the last few hours. I’d not done anything like this before. Ever. I’d summoned a Kat a few dozen times – oh yeah, you had probably already guessed that much. But I’d never done THIS with a Kat before and my heart was just racing at the thought of it. I paced back and forth in the hallway of my house. It was almost pitch black, but that didn’t bother me. I wasn’t in the mood to be observant. My thoughts were elsewhere. In truth, the house could have been burning down and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was so pre-occupied with what was going to happen tonight. Or rather, with what I hoped was going to happen. I looked at my apple watch as it lit with a green glow. A message was

"Put your leg up." "What?!" "Put your leg up. Cross it over your knee." "Honey, we're in a cinema and there are people all around." "Exactly," she said grinned. "Now do it." Flushing, I did as she asked - crossed my left leg over my right knee, so my left foot was next to her. I stared as hard as I could at the cinema screen, hoping no one was looking. We were on the back seat, so it wasn't too bad, but a voice in my head was telling me that everyone knew. Then, as if it was the most normal thing, she undid my lace and yanked my shoe off. Then my my sock. "What are you--" "Sh," she cooed. "Don't move and don't make a sound the film will start soon." I fumed and felt giddy all at the same time. Anyone could see us. Anyone!! She starts stroking the cold tip of a single key lightly up the sole of my left foot. I barely stifle a shriek. "What are you--" "Now...I know this tickles, baby," she whispers. "And I know you like it..." I did. I loved it. And she knew it. "Here's

*Choice decided, you turn your back on the out-stretched hand and hurry down the corridor to where the figure in stocks aways. You see that in the stocks there a female Kat, with light grey fur, jet black hair and dressed in a white bikini. Her hands and feet are locked in a finely made set of dark wooden stocks that have been polished to a fine sheen*. ~Oh look, she’s all helpless…poor thing…~ The voice continues to whisper in your mind. *You see there is an empty space next to her, with matching holes for another set of hands and feet* “Oh, you came!” The Kat’s face lights up to see you, her ears pricking and mewl of happiness coming out. “I wondered if you would choose the other way.” *At once you feel the sweet tickle of her playful soul. It feels warm at the back of your mind. A pleasant sensation that may, if you stay long enough, turn to something wonderfully giddy* “My name is Hazel, pleasure to meet you. I take it you’re doing the marathon? Hehe. Sweet.” *She wiggles

*You come awake suddenly on a floor of cold, sand coloured stone.* "Wakey, wakey, sweetie." The same voice stirs you from your slumber. "You can't be lying aroud here all by yourself. You'll never make it out of here." *The air is warm and filled with the sounds of muffled, indistinct hysterical laughter. Here and there can be heard the wild and desperate pleas for merrcy. And for more. You are in a small room with a single door that is wide open. A lone torch burns in a brazier shaped like a daemon's hand holding a feather.* "Hurry now. You cannot linger." *You are armed only with a feather-fingered glove and a growing sense of urgency in the back of your head. Gritting your teeth, determined and excited at the challenge ahead, you step carefully out of the room into a wide stone passage with an arched stone roof. The souds of sweet hysteria are growing louder and sweeter.* "Lovely sound, isn't it?" The voice titters. *You've travelled no more than a hundred feet when you come

You are on the edge of a deep and warm sleep. All is warm and safe and you can feel yourself drifting gently to sleep. "Hello, cutie." *Suddenly, Gedan's voice slips into your mind. It warm and charming and even in your sleep, carries the promise of something wonderful.* "I hope you're ready for some fun." *It almost feels like her voice has fingers that stroke and tease your skin.* "Sweet Feathers, in his wisdom, has reopened the Tickler's Marathon to his guests and I thought you might like to test your resolve in it." *There is a pause.* "What is it, you ask? Well, it is a quest. A challenge. A game where every one wins. Hehe. It is a delicious and arduous trek from the bowels of Feather's realm. Starting in the dark and whispering dungeous, those who play must make their way up through layers of Kat- filled ticklish temptation, merciless feather-weilding tortmentors and mind numbing swishy delights. They must go through all of this withot being tempted to abandon their