The Tickle Dungeons Pt. 03

The thief lay on the grand table, naked but for her belt, "slumbering" as her consciousness had been offered to the most important of the idols. He looked them over--the array of small figures, like alternate chesspieces. Each representing a god or goddess of the ancient world.

Each representing a power that wished to return--and would reward those who awakened them. He paced, gritting his teeth. One moon and the wedding would happen. The White Queen would be captured and the elder entities would be awakened. The Jaguar Throne would have been preferable, the Astrologers said--but that had been bungled. They had tried for it too fast and things had spun out of control.

Now the Lavender or Pink Thrones would have to suffice. The Astrologers were speaking with them through their telescopes.

Last night Cati had succeeded in locating the Pink Throne with the telescope. He'd left her on the table for the moon to enjoy--watching as the pendulum marked her. A chime sounded, and he crossed the room to an engraved double door. Through it, he saw Grand Astrologer Tymas wiping his cock as a male apprentice lay over a fucking bench, his anus still gaping from its use.

"Has Ishsi accepted the girl as an offering?" He asked.

"She yet slumbers," Dr, Rinebach said. "It would appear she is acceptable."

The grand astrologer gave the boy a hard slap on his buttocks and he popped up, eyes wide and wet, and opened his mouth to receive the soiled rag. The apprentice gave a very soft grunt as he took the offering. His cock was turgid--probably from the avid stimulation his prostate had just received.

The man clapped him on the bottom again, and he quickly drew his trousers up, and shuffled out. Tymas stared after him. "I should have Training Master Haldan check his pants and put him on a punishment scaffold if there is a hint of a mess in them!"

"After that, I should think there will be more than a hint," Dr. Rinebach said.

"My own master impressed upon me the importance of bending and breaking the will," Tymas said. "Being taken often, and hard, is a key part of that--but being punished for the effects of the taking? That deliciously breaks one's pride."

Dr. Rinebach took a seat in the private room. Tymas settled in across from him. "Doctor," he started. "Contact was made--there will be an emissary from the Pink Throne. This will be a very strange and very powerful being. The Pink Throne will want to vent its desires on the land--much as I just did with my apprentice. The Mythological gods and goddesses we are bringing to the table will want their old supremacy. When we topple the Sattvan order, we will be facing the Throne and Crown. I will need you to meet with the emissary and determine if the requirements of the Pink Throne will be acceptable to our mythological entities that will comprise our war and governance engines."

Dr. Rinebach nodded. "I will judge the emissary's requests. We will determine if they can be compatible with our goddesses."

Tymas nodded. "You've got to be solid on this, Doctor. If we are right, we can bring the two together and our plan will be enacted and fruitful. If we are wrong, when they come together there will be an internecine war on our hands. It will be a disaster."

Dr. Rinebach nodded. "I am the foremost expert on the mythological entities. I will speak for them at the council."

"Good," said Tymas, darkly. "You had better be right."

Dr. Rinebach was certain he was.

That night, they stood in the council room. Chloe was there, stretched on an X-rack. naked but for the belt, looking filthy and wretched. She had shrieked in her sleep, apparently being tickled in her dreams. Now she hung there, her arms and legs seeming exhausted. Her weight on a small metal rod that lay between her thighs. Her belt and the rod were pressed hard into her sore, leaking sex.

Dr. Rinebach liked the look of her--so humbled--so vulnerable. When all this was done, he would like to see her in the Tickle Dungeons. He imagined she would come up with more and more creative ways to beg him--some of those might even net her small dribbles of mercy... if they were humiliating enough!

Now, though, he had to act: the emissary sat 9' tall and looked like a pink sphinx: the body of a great cat--bigger than a lion, the face of a beautiful woman. Its fur and skin were pink and Its jeweled eyes sparkled and shone. Its paws, huge and fierce, seemed to be capable of delicate manipulation.

The Astronomers stood around it. On the table was the map. It had been marked off with careful lines. The work was centered on Dunnis Urom. Radians stretched out from there, down to the rim of the ring cities. To the west, it reached the desert. To the east, it plunged through the great ravine and the old Crown Empire and into the eastern steppes. It reached to the great canyon that sliced through the land from the southern sea to the unexplored north. The proposed area of dominion was not all of the known world--but it was much of it. Perhaps most.

"If the conditions are right," spoke the envoy, "we can sweep down and across--but we will have limited ability to remain so long as Sattva imposes its tyrannical order upon these lands. And if we are not sovereign, the Pink Throne will incur the karmic debt--meaning the Throne herself and all her arms must atone and be punished. This would be terrible for us--and thus terrible for you."

Dr. Rinebach could see that at the sphinx's hips were definitely human. A huge vulva visible between its great legs.

He let Tymas speak.

Tymas: "We will deploy the ancient forces that held dominion before Sattva. If you can flourish under their rule, their combined forces will break the Sattvan hold on the lands you conquer."

The sphinx cocked her head.

"Your plan is to awaken the old entities? How can that be done?"

Tymas nodded to Dr. Rinebach.

He grunted and stepped forward to the table. He didn't want to get too close to the sphinx. It' female tone and appearance concerned him. He knew the Pink Throne was feminine--but... seeing it? It gave him chills.

He cleared his throat. "They slumber--but are not destroyed, your grace. Bringing them back simply involves breaking the hold that the Crown and Throne forged to usher in the Sattvan Age. To do that, we must undo hold of the governance and, in the same stroke, remove the artifice of the primary enclave. Not just the buildings--but the legitimacy."

"We will submit the members of the Great Houses, control the judiciary, and replace the bureaucracy. In the Sattvan order, we have internal elements that will alow the temporary reification of the mythological goddesses to enter its grounds and work their will across it. If the gates are left open, the enclave will fall."

The sphinx looked inscrutably at him.

He felt the other's eyes on him as well. "The plan has already been set in motion," he said. "There are relatively few pillars we must compromise. I have already taken steps to neutralize the sturdiest."

"The Radiant Lady?" asked the envoy.

"I--do not know her by that name," he said. He was surprised: how could something on the moon know their local politics?"

"It was she that defeated the Jaguar Throne," said the envoy. "Despite the power of the Jaguars, she defeated them and laid them waste."

"I do mean the Dame Knight," he said. "She will unwittingly perform the sacrifice of a great house's dignity and use the offering object to give him over to the Mythologies. When she does so, she will be under their command--the user and the subject both. The Mythological will hand her over to us--neutralized and controlled."

The pink monstrosity nodded.

Tymas spoke: "We will need to know what rules you would impose on your domain. We must ensure that these are in concert with our plan"

"The Pink Throne wants unions," said the sphinx. "Mandatory unions for all people at the age of ten and eight. Unions can be of many people so long as the dominant is well recognized as the head of the union."

"Acceptable," said Dr. Rinebach.

"The women must be bred--it will be mandatory," said the sphinx.

"Acceptable," repeated Dr. Rinebach.

"Orgasm will be restricted for childbearing for men. Possible for conception only for females. Other orgasms will be punished," said the mantis.

"That... will be a problem for the dominants," said Tymas.

"We can allow it for a small group of leaders," offered the mantis.

The humans looked around. "Fine," said Tymas. "Two percent of the population?"

"One tenth that," replied the mantis.

There was grumbling--but they nodded.

"Courting will be regimented. The Pink Throne wants courting to be a hunt with the submissives as the prey and the dominants as the predators. This may be in the social or physical realms. The catching must be unpleasant for the prey--traps with bite--tricks with humiliation. The caught submissive must be spurred to escape--and then defeated emotionally when they are caught."

"Our... Mythological entities should accept that," considered Dr. Rinebach.

"When 'caught' and submitted to a union, there will be seventy-two hours of cleansing punishment for the submissive. That is all--but there will be a permanent embassy for the Pink Throne, and we will have a hundred human staff submitted to us."

"Excellent," said Dr. Rinebach. "That should be well acceptable."

"Would you like to relax while we discuss?" Tymas asked.

"Certainly. May I have the female slave?" It indicated the bedraggled-looking Chloe.

Eyes turned. She looked up, concerned. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but when they stopped talking and she could see the massive insectoid thing looking at her, she groaned.

"She is favored by one of the mythological beings," Dr. Rinebach said.

"I shall not use her unduly then," the sphinx said. It moved to her, its legs somehow seductive and sensuous, and its limbs were amazingly adept at taking her down. It bent and its mouth seemed to gently take the back of her neck and shoulders and lift her easily, so she dangled in the air, looking like a kitten lifted by its mother. "I shall have her in the parlor off to the side," it declared.

The men nodded. Carrying her easily, it walked dexterously through the door as their eyes followed it.

"Maybe it wasn't a good idea to display our catch," Tymas said.

"Or, perhaps, she will prove tasty to it as well," Dr. Rinebach mused. "I don't think the goddess will mind, so long as she is not altered."

It laid Chloe on a spread of floor pillows, spreading her legs. Its paw easily removed her belt, somehow opening it and dropping it aside.

She stared at it--it was alien--its size was intimidating--but it was soft of skin and voice.

"You are dirty," it said, sounding judgmental in its strange way.

"I was--used--taken," she said.

"Punished," it said.

She nodded.

"Good. Punishment should be dirty, don't you think?"

"I--I--what are you?" she asked. It loomed over her, its face looking calmly down at her.

"I am an envoy of the Vulval Throne," it said. "I am going to pleasure myself with you--you will not enjoy it, and that will make the experience all the sweeter. The sphinx smiled. She thought she saw cruelty in its eyes but also, paradoxically, a warmth.

"Raise your hips, little human. Spread your legs wide and I will press my vulva against yours."

Whimpering, Chloe paused--when it blinked, she lifted her legs. She felt a moist heat and then a softness of its curves and folds against her.

She had done Tribadalism--the scissoring of one girl with another, rubbing their sexes against each other. It was one of the most forbidden practices in the land. Now, doing this felt dirty and sensual.

She opened her mouth, and a little cry escaped.

Then it rolled its hips, and her legs clenched around it. She felt her limbs flee her control as it touched her. All she could see was its great chest above her, but her entire lower quarter--her hips, her sex, her thighs, felt glued against it. As It rolled over her, the wetness of its vulva seemed to fire bolts of electric pleasure through her. She let out a sexual moan, and she heard the sphinx laugh.

The sensation--the electric vibrations of it seemed to electrify her clitoris--not just the nub she knew--but a deeper structure--larger and deeper than nub--under her entire vulva. The tingling--the bolt--was a pleasure so strong it was too much. She cried out.

"Feel that, little human," purred the sphinx. "That is your naughty little peak being rubbed."

Chloe gasped, "Ohhh--" she whimpered.

It rolled its hips again, and she shrieked. The kiss of its sex was wet and firm and covered her entire region with its own strange oil. Her eyes bulged--her clitoris could not take the stimulation, and she gasped!

It rolled again--and again. She felt a sensitivity such as after she had spent hard--its pleasure was unbearable--it was rolling deep into her sex and her entire pelvis felt over-stimulated--violated--hideously stroked beyond her control or consent.

"Stop!" she begged. "Please!"

The sphinx laughed. "Your pleasure seat is being punished," she explained. "Your dirty little clitoral structure is being rubbed right now--after I've had my fill of pleasure, dirty whelp, I will spank it."

She panicked then, writhing--trying to get her sex away from it's--but she was stuck fast, her legs gripping it, her hips engaged in helpless autonomic pelvic thrusts. She tried to scream, but it was hard to get a breath. Ohh--oh noo--Unbearable!!

Her bladder spasmed, and she wet over everything.

Pow! Something like a bubble of pain popped in her vulva. Her clit, whatever was within and under her sex, flared in a sharp smack of pain--as though some tender element had been spanked under her skin.

She wailed and pushed helplessly against its body. It continued to roll its hips--rubbing. She tried to kick--had to kick--but she couldn't! It was like her legs were caught in some kind of electrical current and just gripped it as she, herself, humped against it. Her own involuntary movement added to the sensation, and she inarticulately begged for mercy when she had the breath.

The sphinx chuckled: "This is what you get for pleasuring your nasty little cunt, isn't it, whelp?"

"Oh--no! no! no!" she begged

The thing spanked her--it spanked her twenty and seven times--each spank was a horrible popping explosion of wet pain in her clit and below it--she yowled with each one--and the punishment seemed endless.

But in the end, it released her, and she collapsed on the pillows. Its huge body moved over her and settled down. Her eyes were squeezed closed. The aftermath of the "Tribadlism" and the spanking was exhaustion. She felt a huge tongue--like a cat's tongue, but smooth and gentle, licking her. Her face--her hair--down her body.

She dreaded that it would touch her sex--which could only barely handle the faint air-currents in the room--but it rolled her easily and it licked her buttocks and her anus gently and pleasantly until a soft, tiny moan escaped her lips.

DUNNISUROM -- CAIS

Cais squatted over the toilet trench. He wasn't using it--the Dame Knight had just had him squat over it for his spanking because, well, because doing so was extra degrading. She held a carpet beater that he suspected was made for the purpose of beating things other than carpets. Each powerful flick of her wrists slapped his bottom with it, and he grunted. The plug in his anus seemed to strobe with an ache as the carpet beater impacted.

"Ow! Mistress!" his voice was tight tears. Tears she wanted.

Gasping in the next shock of pain, he realized he didn't want to provide her with them--he wanted to bear the spanking stoically and not go through the infantilizing--but pleasurable--after care in her arms. Oh! He didn't want to lie against her breasts and cry!

THWUP! He gasped. She'd switched the rhythm and caught him unprepared! OWWW! Oh, fuck!

"Mistress!"--and she laughed--he'd whined!

He heard his voice come out tight with both tears and the battle to restrain complaint! He was whining about being spanked. Oh! Shame blossomed in him and he knew she could see the blush on his cheeks, which made it worse!

He sniffled. He had his elbows against his knees, his palms flat on the floor, head forward to push his buttocks out. Oh! Please let that sniffle be enough--

THWUP! "Uhnnh!" Another sound of complaint. That must amuse her too--not cries of pain--or pure animal distress--but complaint--that a child of privilege was being spanked like a brat.

"Push that cute bottom out more," she ordered him. Her voice was light with humor--but she meant it--oh! This was a terrible ordeal for him! Amusement for her! Oh!

THWUP! THWUP!! He cried out in pain now--two quick ones, again out of rhythm! "Oh! Ow!" he gasped.

"I'll have your cries pitched higher," she considered. It was a mocking--the kind he might do if he was spanking a brat. Her taunt wasn't barbed--but it hurt. He felt tears well at her casual infliction of mocking--and oh, there--tears--he could feel them flow.

He had the sudden, awful feeling that she would be please--even proud of him for crying here--punished--he had resented the gentle application of his cage in front of his sisters and now, his eyes brimming with tears, he paradoxically hoped she would not stop the spanking! He might be seen crying--he didn't want to be thought a fragile piece of porcelain. The spanking would be better than that! Oh!

THWUP! WHAP! W-WHAPP! WHAP! WHAP!!

She compromised--he held position and barked out teary cries as she applied the carpet beater. At the point where he was suddenly terrified she would leave him a quivering, bruised mass of pain, she stopped.

He moaned in her arms now, sobbing against her. She held him, rubbing his scrotum and caged cock with her hands. It was an island of pleasure in a rolling sea of pain. His buttocks screamed and felt swollen.

She didn't let him rub for a time--having him cry.

Then she took him and laid him face down on the bed.

"Stay with your master," he told Yais, who was more or less cowering in a corner, eyes huge.

"Yes, mistress," she said. He felt her leap onto the bed.

"You can rub him if you wish."

"Master?" Yais asked dubiously.

He was about to answer--but the Dame Knight cut him off--"He's not to ask or reject it in any way. His bottom is mine, and I allow you to rub it if you wish--but he's got no say in it."

Her voice was actually slightly gentle--commanding--and... dominant. But not harsh.

He could feel Yais' hesitation--but he couldn't signal to her, not in the spirit of being the submissive which, after having a cry in her arms, he found no way to argue with. He felt her hands very gently on his buttocks, rubbing.

He heard Dame Listily retreat. He let out a sigh.

Yais caressed over his bruised skin. It was swelling. "That looked awful," she sympathised.

"It wasn't pleasant," he agreed.

She petted him for a time. Then. "Are you dreading the collaring ceremony and the wedding?"

Mmmphhm. "Yes--and no."

He turned his head to look at her--but not to put her off the caress--"Our union is a duty, as I've said--but it isn't only that. If... I can manage to be under her--and it appears I can--it will be a true union. I hadn't realized how much I wanted that."

"Even if you're under punishment daily?" she asked.

"You've got a punishment station," he pointed out. "You had a choice to flee at the Key Ceremony and you didn't. Did you make the wrong decision?"

"It's a bit different," she said.

"It's not," he told her. "Not really. You were a highly skilled thief. Now you're a servant and a house-pet."

She risked a soft smack.

"Ow!" his eyes flared.

"Oh, punish me for it later. We both know we're friends and allies whichever end of the leash!"