Ticlequest 06: Epilogue

This story contains nonconsenual elements.

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For centuries humans were the pushovers of the world. They used to be divided and weak prey for the elves, orcs, fairies, beastfolk, and demons. Such times are no more. Humanity has risen up and, thanks to the mysticism and leadership of the Mortal Goddess, they have overcome their aggressors. The time of the human race has come and it is here to stay.

Every race has felt the curse of the goddess. Tickling has proven to be the main tool used by men and women when they fought back against their foes, and the once oppressive races have come to fear this new sensation. Every fighter who tried to resist the coming age fell by forced ticklish laughter. This strange power was instrumental in making humans the dominant race and they still use it to keep themselves in control across the world.

A collection of members from each race were taken to the Hall of Glories during humanity's conquests. There they were bound in different positions that left their bodies open to tickle attacks. The unfortunate but guilty folk endured years of tickling as penance for their many crimes against humans, both for personal misdeeds and the historical wrongdoings of their entire race. Men and women often took part in this retribution and they enjoyed it greatly. Many dreamed of the opportunity of having their wiggling fingers drive their former enemies crazy, and most had the chance to do so. Pilgrimages to the human capital, from common farmers to clan leaders, to visit the Hall of Glories was a regular practice.

Once the total victory of humanity was certain the Mortal Goddess set about reshaping the societies of the world. Men and women were put into positions of power to keep the races in check. Any and all resistance would be met by ruthless tickling and certain offenders faced imprisonment in the Hall of Glories.

Now, what has become of the elves, orcs, fairies, beastfolk, and demons?

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Galan was an elvish pirate prince, though he didn't have the chance to be one for long. He had grown up hearing the stories of raiding from older noble elves and dreamed of commanding a ship of his own. Galan spent years training his combat and ship piloting skills to prepare for his pirate future, following in the footsteps of his ancestors.

The elf briefly spent time as a first mate to a captain once he turned eighteen and during that time got his first taste of raiding humans. On his twentieth birthday Galan was given a ship of his own, which he named the Silver Sparrow, as well as a small crew. He was now ready to start his ancestral journey of becoming a pirate lord. The new captain joined a small fleet and the group soon set their sights on a human town to attack.

Things did not go well. In fact things went horribly wrong. In the short time between when Galan was a first mate to when he became a captain the attitudes of their prey has shifted. They were now capable warriors who laid traps to capture elves. When the captain set about a plan to rescue his crew members he was soon captured himself, along with other elvish nobles thanks to information from who he thought was proud and loyal kin no less.

Galan did worry a bit at first, but knew others would come rescue him. Humans had gotten lucky before, perhaps the same had happened again. Still, he felt unnerved being chained to such a primitive race and taken to who knows where. The elf did hear some whispers from his human captors of a special curse, and he saw the shameful and shaken faces from his unfaithful crew. Something had changed, but how bad of a change it was did not fully hit Galan until he arrived at the human capital.

Once he arrived the elf was taken to a large ornate building. Inside he, along with other elvish nobles, gazed upon a large hall filled with strange devices. Galan, as well as the other princes and princesses, were soon tied to these structures. His body was forced to lie back on a cushioned table, arms and legs outstretched in the shape of an X and tied with leather straps. Galan couldn't see much from his position, but assumed his fellow elves were also tied down as well. Once finished the humans retreated slightly, but still stayed in the hall. They were waiting for something, and that something soon arrived.

Galan heard a yelp from a princess which then turned into frantic laughter. Then a prince did the same. More laughter from more elves followed, traveling down the hall until Galan was the only elf not laughing his head off. He was very anxious at that point and he soon met the source of the event. A tendril of golden light wiggled its way into view. Moving in complex patterns it only stayed in the air for a few brief moments before it darted towards Galan's body.

As soon as the light made contact the elf soon joined in the chorus of laughter. A horrible new sensation was overwhelming his body, it was as if his nerves were on fire but no pain was felt. Instead Galan bucked and strained while laughter was forced from his mouth. The tendril of light continued to explore his body, slithering from where it started at his belly towards his naked armpits. As the light tormented the elf his laughter rose and fell which each spot it traveled to. Armpits, belly, sides, navel, thighs, though the worst was his feet.

Finally, after an extended torturous session, the light withdrew from the elf's gaze leaving him and the others panting from shock and fear. Then a powerful voice soon filled the hall. "My curse is proven. The aggressors have become ticklish and thus weakened. Now I place the rights of their punishment to you all. Tickle, tease, and tickle for the history of their crimes. So is the will of the Mortal Goddess."

Tickling? That must be the source of the curse and the name of that terrible feeling. Galan didn't have long to understand the full weight of what the voice said as he saw the humans approach. The large group spread out and soon gathered around the tied elvish princes and princesses. Some begged and pleaded, others grunted while tugging at their bindings, while more, like Galan, stared in fearful silence. Soon the laughter of elves filled the hall once more.

Galan's new tormentors were a trio of human women, and they didn't waste any time before lunging forward with tickling hands. One stayed at his feet, five nailed fingers scratched at each foot. Another stood farther up in between his legs, her wiggling fingers paying close attention to Galan's muscular and ticklish thighs while occasionally traveling to his waist. The final woman stood to his side, tickling like the others but also kept her face close to his. She often dug her fingers into both of his armpits while whispering mocking words to the elf's laughing face. Even though he was laughing like mad Galan could still make out everything.

"Tickle tickle, elf. Oh, do you love this? You must be if you're laughing this much. Fingers brushing and scraping everywhere. Your body is a perfect canvas for our enjoyment. So fit and fine, but so ticklish too. That's the best part, and you won't EVER get used to it too. Your sensitivity will always stay like this thanks to our goddess. Hm, looks like you got ticklish nipples too. I'm gonna enjoy that for the next hour! And don't worry, after we're done here there are so many more waiting for a chance at punishment. In fact, my sister is up next. And she specially prepared her nails. You will looooove it, elf."

In between his never ending laughter Galan tried to beg for mercy. The women laughed like it was a joke and kept tickling. Minutes stretched into hours, the elf laughing until tears soaked his now red face. Through it all he never did tire, muscles never went sore from their struggling or voice weakening from the loud laughter. His body felt horrible and energetic at the same time.

The trio left after hours of tickling, though Galan couldn't tell the length of time. And as the woman said another group soon came. His shaky voice pleaded once more, and in response one lady tore off the only piece of clothing he had. As the short pair of trousers flew to the ground the women once more chose a position and the tickling began again. Wandering hands occasionally tickled Galan's cock and balls too, the newest ticklish area to explore.

All of the elf's body would be explored very, very thoroughly. Hours turned into days, days into weeks, weeks into months, the tickling never stopping for long. Humans were always waiting at a chance to tickle the former raiders. Sometimes it was just one, sometimes it was as many as five. Galan stayed there for years. He caught brief glimpses of other races being brought to face the same torture, a show of victory that proved the humans really had changed. After fifteen years of punishment, some time after the total triumph of humanity, the elven nobles were released. They shakily made their way home to live their new lives under the rule of man.

The goddess decreed that all elves would be traders for the world. Under the rule of human captains they traveled the seas carrying goods and cargo from one town or city to another. The only large rebellion that was faced was by one elvish crew at the start of the human age. They held their woman captain hostage, but were soon taken down by both man and elf. That crew faced twenty-five years in the Hall of Glories, and no other elven crew dared rebel again. The threat of tickling was always present in their minds.

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Shel was an orc chieftess. She was a powerful warrior who helped rule her mountain home for many years while also raiding human settlements. During that time she had taken three human men to be her pleasure slaves. It was common for Shel to have those men pleasure her every night, one licking at her pussy while the others sucked at her nipples. The orc also made sure they never had an orgasm of their own. Their future lives would be about her pleasure, not theirs. The chieftess wasn't the forgiving type and doled out punishment whenever she caught one of her slaves with their cock in their hands. Her favorite method of discipline was spanking, and with Shel's muscular arms the men's asses always ended up even redder than their faces.

All of this would have been the future the orc thought she would live. Rule, raid, fight, pleasure, and punish. It would have been a simple but pleasant life for Shel, though the attack from the human armies destroyed that dream. The chieftess later learned that the frail folk had gathered secret knowledge from other orcs, specifically the layouts of the mountain tunnels. The orcs never would have thought to guard the winding mazes that connected to the heart of their town, and the humans took advantage of that.

Shel had been in the middle of a pleasure session when the attack came. The orcs barely fought at all due to the humans having stealth and surprise on their side. Before they knew it the mass of men and women had their chieftains bound and taken away in the dark of the night. Any future chiefs were taken in a similar manner, the only things left behind were the symbol of the new human empire and broken chains from former slaves. It was at that time that the orcs knew fear and the true power of the humans.

The former chieftess, like her fellow rulers, were soon taken to their former prey's capital. As they were forced up the steps of a large building Shel heard screams of laughter and begging reach her ears. Such noises were a rare thing among orcs, the few times they did hear such things were from their slaves. This time, however, it came from a collection of bound elves who were being tormented by groups of humans. Shel wondered what sort of torture forced laughter out of the mouths of their victims, though she didn't have to wait long to find out.

Shel was soon put into bondage as well. She was tied to a strange extended chair. Her arms were tied up against a pole rising up out of the chair while her legs were forced outstretched in a V shape. Multiple loops of soft but strong rope kept the orc bound, so much that not even her great strength could free her. She was humiliated, not just because she was a captive to the race of slaves but also because they had taken her in the middle of a pleasure session, meaning that she was entirely nude. Once she and the other chieftains were properly bound groups of humans soon gathered around them.

A group of four eager men circled around Shel, none of them showing one sign of being afraid of the muscled chieftess in front of them. As they drew closer the orc shouted threats in an attempt to make rightful fear enter their minds, but all that did was make their smiles grow larger. Then it happened, Shel felt ten fingers reach around from behind and skitter along her ribs. The venomous threat that she was in the middle of yelling collapsed into uncharacteristic giggles. That was all the other humans needed to hear and they soon joined in, much Shel's dismay.

A man stood at each of the orc's large feet, their fingers scraping along them and rooting in between the toes. The man behind her continued to tickle up and down her sides while occasionally digging into her armpits. One human stood the closest to Shel, right up between her outstretched thighs. With a mocking grin he stuck a finger into her wide navel and started to spin it around.

The image of a brawny and frightful orc completely disappeared. Instead all that remained was a struggling, laughing mess of a being. Shel was being tortured by slaves, being forced to laugh of all things! Oh how she wished the ropes to break, to break these men and make them beg to have the honor of worshipping her pussy. But no, all she could do was laugh.

The human behind her started to whisper in her ear. "Hah! Look how far the mighty orcs have fallen. So big and powerful, but you are as ticklish as the rest of them. This is your punishment for the slaves you kept. How many did you have, orc? How many nights did you force them to pleasure your body? Well, now it's our turn for fun. Tickle tickle!"

This continued for some time, the chieftess torture seemed endless, though a change did occur. Shel felt a pair of hands, the ones belonging to the human behind her, leave. She couldn't tell where he went due to the tickling, but he didn't stay gone for long.

All of the tickling fingers stopped. Shel sagged in her restraints while taking in desperate gasps of air. After some tired blinking she looked up. The four men stood there, one of them holding a large flask of some kind. Winking at the orc the man stepped forward and started to pour what looked to be oil onto her feet. Shel was weakened, but her pride wasn't still beaten. She whispered menacing words, how she would make them all pay for this, but they didn't seem to care. In response to her threats Shel had the rest of the flask poured over her head, the remaining oil dripping down her furious face and sweat covered torso.

The men stepped forward but didn't return to their tickling. Instead four pairs of hands started to massage Shel's body wherever there was oil. The orc tried to not show any pleasure in their acts, but their arms worked hard. It was such a departure from the torment that had just occurred moments before.

Shel managed to look around during the massage. There were still plenty of humans having their fun, though most of them seemed to take a higher interest in the newly arrived orcs compared to the elves. Men and women eagerly tickled the muscled chieftains, and like Shel any attempt to keep up their proud warrior image was gone. Male and female orcs laughed and struggled, the noises they made mixed with the light and airy laughter of the elves who were not entirely spared from the tickling.

The fingers massaging Shel soon retreated. A part of her wanted them not to stop, the small bits of pleasure reminded her of what her slaves used to do back home. The orc looked at her body. It had oil rubbed in everywhere and she doubted it was for her benefit. Sure enough the men took up positions around her and soon their hands returned to tickling.

It was immediate that the tickling was MUCH worse for Shel. Some parts of her skin were rough before, most notably her feet from not using any footwear, but all that oil made those wiggling fingers glide and tickle much more effectively. Once more the orc fell into crazed laughter, much to the delight of the men around her. As they tickled they teased her previous threats, mocking her to be a 'true warrior' and break out of her bondage. Shel tried, she really did, but there would be no escape.

When Shel's tormentors had enough fun they left her. Exhausted, covered with oil mixed with sweat, and skin tingling the orc felt the slightest urge to beg for mercy. Her pride was damaged, and as another group of men approached she knew more tickling would come. Would they lesser their torture if they heard a plea from an orc? Or would it just lead to more teasing?

Eventually, after a straight week of endless tickling, Shel did beg for mercy. She was one of the last of the captured chieftains to do so, but in the end it did nothing. The Mortal Goddess sentenced them for their crimes and tickling would be their punishment. No race, no matter how much they begged, would get a reprieve.

The goddess had future plans for the orcs as well. They would become labourers for the humans as they expanded their empire. There was resistance of course, no orc thought the idea of serving their former slaves as workers sounded reasonable. Rebellious leaders were soon sentenced to the Hall of Glories while some humans took it upon themselves to 'teach' some of the orcs themselves. Towns bordering on orc settlements often had large tables or stocks in the town square. They were used regularly for years, the stubborn nature of the green-skins was a hard thing to re-educate, but that didn't stop the tickle hungry men and women. Timeless tickling did finally put the orcs under the heel of humans.

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Helio was a fairy counsellor, one who shared ruling power in a fairy colony. He and his kin lived comfortable and entertaining lives, even with the developing tales involving the humans. Rumors of a curse had been travelling as well as the stories of the elves and orcs falling to their former prey. Still, Helio and the others weren't worried. After all, they had magic on their side as well as living in forests enchanted by said magic.

Fairy forests were legendary in their defense. Any unwanted intruder would begin to get lost after taking too many steps inside. Magical fog, twisting pathways to nothing, illusions, and more could lead anyone astray. The fairies were so proud of their talents that they didn't even bother to post guards surrounding the colony. After all, why waste time on such boredom while there were plans for pranks to be made?

Counsellor Helio was actually in just such an activity. Rulers still wanted to get their fix of tricking humans too. And with a regular forest surrounding the fairy forest he called home the options for a fun time seemed limitless. There Helio was, sitting in his humble dwelling with ink and parchment in front of him. His wings idly fluttered and grin grew whenever a new idea popped into his head. Tomorrow would be a wonderful day for him, not so much for any unlucky humans that came across his path.

It was the middle of the night when the fantasy of an impenetrable home was broken for the fairies. Dozens of men and women streamed from the forest and quickly overcame the few wakeful fairies. Even with magic on their side the surprise was too sudden and numbers too many. Helio was roughly awoken by two armored women and soon put into bindings, much like the other fairy rulers.

Once order had been set for the humans they announced their demands. No more tricks, no more mischief, lest they all experience in full the curse of humans. With that Helio and the other counsellors were taken away, to the human capital he guessed. During the short trip he wondered how they maneuvered the forest. His answer soon came when he spied a single fairy being released from the fort they were taken to. She couldn't bear to look her kin in the eyes, but whether it was from shame or from whatever she knew was coming next Helio couldn't tell.