Empress (A Tickle Commission)

Information Through Screams

Specks of tea leaves swirled in a flowery amber pool. Steam rose from the top of the cup, clay and ornate. It rested atop a mat and sat undisturbed until finally taken up in Prince Fu Jie's hands. He cupped it gently, bringing it to his lips. He was careful not to slurp. Such decorum was unbecoming of a man of his status. Still, the warm brew burned delightfully against his tongue and lips. It trickled down his throat. He breathed in the scent to drink in the full flavor palette of the medicinal herbs. The exotic sting of caffeine ignited thought and sensation. He sat with his eyes closed. Peace came slowly to the man, easing his mind from the toils of making sure the exchange with the Hong royal family succeeded as he needed it to, despite the obvious snags that hindered the plan.

The climate of his castle's dungeons was always separate from the world beyond the dreary stone walls. No matter the season or temperature or weather conditions outside, a tepid humidity, fragranced with the scents of sweat and misery, remained a constant under Fu Jie's control. The wailing sounds of screaming and tortured laughter resonated like spirits haunting the grounds, still locked in their own endless torments. Around him, slave girls stood at attention, one of the few moments of reprieve they would experience between torture sessions. One poured his tea while another stood naked by the door. A heavy copper collar weighted against their necks where the burned mark of the slave scarred by varying degrees since their capture. Fu Jie only ever referred to the slaves by a quick glance and snap of his fingers. Few even remembered their own names after several months of tortuous conditioning.

Fu Jie's torture of choice was always tickling. Rumors of his brutality circulating around tickling made him unassuming to some and a myth to others. It had become a calling card to those that knew of how devastating the prince could be with it. Many enemies dared to test the man known for tickling under the assumption that such a childish approach to domination made for a weak ruler. Those were the enemies whose families never knew another moment of peace from the very torture that their protectors underestimated; trophies to entertain guests and be mocked for their degradation.

His newest acquisition fared just as poorly, if not worse, than most newcomers within the first stages of his sophisticated conditioning process. The Hong family servant, Ai Bai, was strapped down to a cold, wooden rack. Her arms and legs were spread by straps tightly squeezing her wrists and ankles. She laid out naked and quivering, her body toiled with endless twitching. A black blindfold wrapped around her head and pressed against her eyes. Another strap of cloth held a balled up rag inside her mouth. It served to muffle the shrieks that still managed to fill the catacombs of the Fu family dungeon. Xianying hovered over her body, her devilish nails raking and skittering across her delicate frame. Ai howled with laughter, her ticklish screams piercing through the black corridors beyond her cell.

"This one has some lungs on it, it seems," Xianying said. Her long nails scratched lightly away at Ai's ribs just below her breasts. Ai's arms jerked. Her head pulled side to side against the straps. Hours had piled on top of her like stones, her chest weighing more and more from the strain of constant laughter. Xianying's skilled nails scraped against her skin like skittering bugs devouring away at Ai's frail nerves. Ai's ticklish body trembled and shook, never earning the restful reprieve it so desperately needed from the surges of ticklish torture waged against it.

"MMMMPPPHHHHEEHEHEEEHEEEHEEMMMMM!!!!!" Ai wailed into the cloth gag. Delicate, squeaking moans broke through the laughter. Her hair frayed tossed with her sudden jerks and twitches. Xinying smiled as she continued to indulge herself. Occasionally, Xianying closed her eyes and simply drank in the scene for what it was. She soaked up the warmth of Ai's bare, ticklish body beneath her fingers. She allowed the sheer amount of anguish her fingers could inflict on her newest plaything to electrify her passions. Ai's muffled screams of laughter poured into Xianying like fine rice wine, just as refreshing and intoxicating with an additional effect of pure arousal.