Library of Laughter Ch. 01

"Ye're hard to rattle, aren't ye?" Brielle giggled, nudging him as she stepped back onto the dry river stones. "Most village boys I see taken up here turn pinker than... well, than a cock in ivy."

"Oh, yes." Rufus ran his hand over the statue and made another note: Minimal erosion suggests protected by tree cover from majority of wind and rain. "I think it might be ferns, though." Four feet long, roughly. "You don't suppose the plants are supposed to be causing the erection, do you?" One leaf seemed to be hovering just over the tip, though it was hard to tell from his vantage point.

He glanced over. Brielle had a small smile on her face, seeming almost perplexed. "Well, everyone's ticklish," she remarked, gesturing up at it. "But truth be told, I din't expect you to be so, ah, clinical regarding the boy."

"Well..." He gave a slightly bashful laugh. "I mean, yes, it's lewd, but it's also a very important find. I just think it's important to focus. If I was constantly getting flustered by everything I encountered, I wouldn't get much done, would I?"

"No, I s'pose not." Brielle stuck her tongue in her cheek. "Well, I have one other potential find near here. Nothing quite as fun as this, o' course. Are we done here?'

"Yes, I think so. For now."

"Back to fondle it later, then." She winked, reaching up to tie back her hair. She playfully kicked his ankle, and he remembered with a start that she was still barefoot.

"Don't you want your shoes?" he asked, gesturing back.

"Agh, it's naught but moss and riverstones, an' they're nothin' I can't recover later." She smirked back at him. "Not to worry, Rufus, my feet won't get dirty."

She turned back to the path before she could see Rufus's face heat up.

He swallowed and hurried after.

~ ~ ~ ~

Getting down into the ditch had been fairly easy.

Getting out, as it turned out, was more of a challenge.

Brielle had made it out easily, with Tass's help. She was clearly very fit, and no doubt an experienced climber from her work in the woods. Now it was Rufus's turn, though, and he was scrabbling against the rounded wall for purchase. The brickwork provided relatively few handholds, so he was reduced to holding onto ferns and roots for support.

"Y'alright, then, Rufus?" asked Brielle, looking concerned.

"Fine!" he gasped, as another fern broke and he was forced to swing from the one solid handhold he had left. He grabbed onto another fern, but already could feel it breaking as well. "Just—can't—"

"Aw, here." Tass reached down with a smile, wrapped her hands around his underarms, and lifted him with one smooth motion.

For a moment, the petite young woman held him suspended in the air, and Rufus realized just how strong Tass actually was. She held him over the pit, her fingers running over the sensitive skin of his sides, and he bit his lip to conceal a little giggle, tried desperately not to struggle and squirm. "Th-thanks," he gasped.

Tass was smiling broadly, her bright green eyes boring into his as though she could read his mind. He felt her fingers twitching over his underarms, and he reflexively squirmed, his face reddening. Brielle had already turned around and could not see his embarrassing plight, for which he was grateful.

Although, he realized, gulping, that also meant she couldn't rescue him right now if Tass didn't show mercy soon. He was powerless in Tass's grasp. In Tass's control.

Tass glanced behind her. When she turned back, her smile had turned wicked. For the moment, the little blonde had him caught helpless within her clutches, and they both knew it. Her fingers started to dance over his sensitive skin. She licked her lips as he jerked and trembled. Her pretty green eyes held his."That's alright, isn't it?" she said softly.

Rufus stared back at her and gasped as her fingers sped up a little.

"Everything alright?" Brielle asked, turning back around. Tass released him, and he practically fell to his knees before her. He felt like he'd just run a marathon. "Agh, Rufus, ye need to get a sterner stomach than that. There's a lot more climbin' to go yet. Unless ye want Tass t'have ta lift ye every time."

Tass waggled her eyebrows.

Rufus gulped. "No," he said, hurrying after Brielle, "d-don't want that."

~ ~ ~ ~

Tass was getting worse and worse as they approached the second ruin. Though Rufus tried to stay close to Brielle, he found he kept falling behind. Sometimes, it was because of another climb. Sometimes, he just felt like he dozed off, standing in place while Tass walked past him. She was taking every opportunity to touch him, to tease him.

And he kept just... letting her.

He knew why, of course. It was a bad habit, a habit born of irrational shame, fear, and... and something else. Brielle seemed nice. He did not want her to know just how vulnerable he always was.

"Alright, everybody," Brielle called back, "This's a tricky area." She gestured out over what looked to Rufus like a small clearing with especially dense fern undergrowth. "A lot of pits here. Ye'll be wantin' to follow my footsteps—some o' them are deep. Leave the wheelbarrow for now."

"Really? Pits?" Rufus looked around, noticing that a few of the ferns seemed to have very dark patches beneath their leaves. "Are those natural, or..."

"I think it's the remnants of some trees that were leveled." Brielle sounded unsure, though. "But some o' the pits are deep enough to break a leg in, if ye fall wrong. So watch my footfalls!"

That. That, Rufus thought, swallowing as Brielle's nimble little feet danced over the ferns, would not be a problem.

"Y'like them, huh?" Tass whispered, as he undertook his first leap. The ground was soft and porous, but it held.

"Like what?" he replied, equally quiet, as he watched Brielle twirl on her toes like a ballerina.

Tass giggled. "Y'like those little feet of hers."

He almost choked up on the second jump. He swayed, grabbing onto a bit of fern trailing from a tree branch for support. He glanced at Tass, his face hot. "I d-don't, um... no, I don't know..."

Tas jumped onto the same patch of safe ground he was on, forcing them to press their bodies together to keep their balance. She was happy to help with that, though, entwining her fingers in his hand holding the fern and wrapping her other arm around his waist. Her eyes sparkled. "Such a delicate thing," she said softly, and he felt her fingers running up his side. "Agh, so sensitive! Here's a good boy."

"S-Stop," he whispered urgently, and jumped for the next foothold—to escape the teasing as much as anything else. He nearly missed this one—his heel sank into empty space, and he realized he hadn't been watching Brielle closely enough.

A moment later, Tass was pressed against him again, and he desperately tried to keep his eyes on Brielle's pretyy feet—if only to avoid looking into Tass's pretty eyes. "I don't think ye want me to stop," she cooed, as her fingers skittered around his shoulders and under them, making him jerk and tremble and giggle weakly. "I think ye want ta look me in the eyes and beg for more."

His mind was drifting, scattering. Her tickling was making it hard to focus, hard to think. To his dazed amazement, he found himself slowly looking away from Brielle's feet and gazing down into those gleaming green orbs.

"Tha's right," Tass said sweetly. "Ye don't want to resist me, do you? It feels so good not to." She tickled under his chin, and he whimpered, trying desperately not to collapse on the spot. She licked her lips. He felt like he was melting beneath her stare. "I wonder what would happen," she said mischievously, hands creeping towards his armpits, "if I..."

"Rufus," he heard Brielle call, snapping him out of the trance, "are ye—"

Before she could turn around, could see him being so effortlessly toyed with, he turned and jumped.

He didn't even know where to land.

Rufus's next feeling was of a harsh, numb pain as his ankle twisted on the edge of a landing site. He tipped, waves his arms uselessly for handholds that were not there, and fell.

Rufus crashed through the vines and ferns. His eyes shut as he gave a panicked yell, bracing for the impact.

"Rufus!" he heard Brielle call, sounding alarmed. "Rufus!" Then, more plaintive, "Oh, Rufus."

Rufus's eyes opened.

He lay suspended over what felt like a six-foot drop. The ferns and vines had tangled around him, holding him up and practically tied up within them. He hung for a moment, rotating slightly in the ferns' clutches.

A pair of smooth, pale feet came to rest beside his head. He looked up, reddening, and his eyes met Brielle's. She looked concerned—but also a little bit amused.

"Well!" She shook her head ruefully. "Ye've got yourself in a tangle, now, and no mistake."

"Yeah." He swallowed. "Guess I... wasn't paying enough attention." Over Brielle's shoulder, Tass winked.

Brielle's hands were on her hips as she pursed her lips. "I s'pose we'll have to find a way t'disentangle ye without ye falling an' getting' hurt worse. Is that ankle alright?"

He wiggled the ankle experimentally. "Sore, but it's not sprained or anything, I don't think."

"Thank goodness." She smiled. "Hold up—I think I've got a harness an' such in the wheelbarrow."

He was spinning a little as he spoke. "If you can secure me, then start cutting the ferns..."

"Right." She turned and started hopping back towards the wheelbarrow. "Don't go anywhere!"

As she started to hop off, Tass grinned at him and made a spidery hand gesture.

"W-Wait!" he choked.

Brielle paused. "What?"

"Um... maybe Tass should go get it."

"Aye," Tass said, nodding innocently at Brielle, "I could go get it. This's my fault for rushin' behind him."

"Nay." Brielle shook her head. "I know the leaps better. Last thing we need is two of ye trapped. We got lucky this time that the ferns were so kind."

She started hopping again.

As she grew distant, Tasss's innocent look faded. She hopped over to him, licking her lips. "Ogh, ye're really in it now, ent't ye?" she whispered.

He sweated. "D-Don't—"

"Shh." She put a finger to his lips and giggled. "Unless ye want two of us playin' with ye."

He must have blushed brighter, because she smirked. "Ah, ye do, don't ye? Silly boy..." Her fingers darted over his arms, causing him to barely hold in a shriek. "But ye best stay nice an' soft for Tástáil, now, sweetness." Her yes seemed to sparkle. "'Cause ye're all mine now."

He stared up into her eyes, his heart beating rapidly. Despite his fear, those eyes were as captivating as ever. So pretty. So... so very pretty. He tried to speak, but only a whimper came out.

She beamed. "Such a good boy. Whimper again fer me, good boy!" Her fingers danced over his bulge, causing little pinpricks of pleasure to dart through him, then down his legs. He trembled and whined. "My whimpering little toy, aren't ye? Just a little tickletoy."

He was panting, whimpering, as her fingers approached his underarms. This time, there was no-one to save him. He didn't know if he could stay quiet when she really got to work there, but he couldn't... couldn't... look away...

His mind was melting into tormented ecstasy as she started tickling his armpits, little delicate strokes that made him twitch and writhe helplessly. Her smile widened. And still, she was holding back.

It was almost like she was... testing him. Scouting him out.

"Such sweet whimpers," she said slyly. "But... ye liked her feet, didn't ye."

He swallowed. No. He shook his head desperately, even as her eyes lulled him into silence. Please, no. "Nn," he managed.

"Oho!" Her grin widened. "That's a yes!"

She reached down, momentarily releasing him from the tickling. He heard a click.

Shew raised a dainty foot and wiggled her toes in his face. "How about this?" she asked nonchalantly. "Are my feet as lovely, boy?"

He stared at her eyes, then at this soft, nimble little toes. "Nn."

As she started to resume tickling him, her toes wiggled before his eyes. She ran her fingers over his side and belly as his mind spasmed, as his body shook and thrashed. "Agh, so nice!" she cooed. "Such a nice little boy. So sensitive. I've never known such a sensitive little thing as you! An' such lovely, dainty li'l toes I have, haven't I?" Her voice went a bit husky as his eyes followed her graceful foot, as the toes gently tickled along his chin. "Wouldn't ye like to... touch them, sweet boy?

He was almost crying, teased pleasure trickling through his body as he vainly struggled for freedom. He whimpered, whined, as her toes stroked and tickled over his body, along his cock, between his thighs, and the giggles were just about ready to pour out of him...

"What the hell are ye doing?"

Tass froze. Rufus froze.

Brielle stood over them both, her hands on her hips, her eyes wide in apparent shock.

Hope sparked in Brielle, hope tampered by shame. He stared at her, struggling to find his voice, to speak before—

"He asked me to do it," Tass said, blinking wide, innocent eyes. "We were jes' havin' some fun, Brielle." She giggled. "If ye want, ye could join in. He's a fun one!"

Hope turned into panic. Rufus struggled to speak, but Tass's toes, so clean and plump and soft, were now caressing his cheek, and her fingers kept him breathless with little trailing touches along his arms, and it seemed all he could do was giggle under his breath as his face went bright red—

"Like hell he asked ye!" Brielle snarled, grabbing the smaller woman by the arm and yanking her to her feet. "I know yer game, girl. Git!"

"But—"

"I said get ye from here, an' quick! Ye're fired!"

Tass blinked slowly, looking between Rufus and Brielle.

She grimaced, straightened, and started back the way they came. Her hips swayed in cool defiance. Rufus listened closely, half-hoping for a fall, but nothing so karmic.

Brielle started tying a harness around Rufus, grimacing. "I'm sorry about that," she muttered. "Should've known she'd play that game."

"Game?"

"The village girls, the young people o' the dale... A lot o' them are mighty sadists when it comes down ta it." She growled, taking out a knife. Rufus felt a bit nervous with her working on it when she was clearly so angry. "It's part of the old ways. How romance is handled. A lot of teasing an'... an' nonsense like that. So trus' me, I knew quite well what she was up to when I saw this. Should've guessed sooner, though."

"Ah." He spun slightly, relieved he was now facing away so she couldn't see his erection or reddened face. "Very good, then. Thank you Brielle."

"Literally don't mention it."

~ ~ ~ ~

They didn't make it to the ruins that night. Instead, they camped out in a flatter part of the woods, setting up their tents after a brief fireside meal of sandwiches and roasted marshmallows. Brielle chivalrously gave him the larger tent, clearly still ashamed about earlier. Rufus was quite happy to accept.

He still couldn't get those eyes out of his head. Or the way Tass had cooed, 'good boy'.

The way his mind had melted for her when she'd said those words.

His dreams were a swirl of tickling fingers and teasing voices. Women surrounded him, women with the faces of Brielle, of Tass, of the water girls and the farmer's daughter. He was tied to a raft in the middle of the fast-flowing creek, shivering as they giggled and ran feathers over his trembling body, his arms, his inner thighs, his squirming feet...

"Good boy," they cooed, tickling all over his naked body. He giggled helplessly, knowing he needed to escape—his arms were free!

But whenever he reached up to stop them, they would tickle beneath his arms, teasing his sensitive armpits, and he would squeal all the more as he stared up into a brilliant green light.

Eventually, the tickling started to get to him, the praise filling his mind with urges he couldn't even hope to control. He found himself raising his arms willingly, inviting them to attack his exposed armpits with their devilish feathers.

"Good boy!" they squealed, making him feel even more wonderful, even more dumb and obedient. "Little tickletoy!"

At first, he fought to bring his arms back down, cutting the torment short. But it took him longer every time to do so as their praise melted his will into dripping nonsense.

Finally, he let his arms stay up, helpless as a kitten. And they began to shriek with laughter as he surrendered completely to the light.

"Such a good boy," cooed Brielle, as he trembled and shrieked with laughter. "Such a good, sensitive boy. Just our little sensitive plaything."

When Rufus awoke that morning, he found himself covered in young, bright green ferns, sprouted from loose dirt within the tent.

As if they had grown up around him.