Jittina

Jittina was playing backgammon with her friend Alora, when Momma Sultana’s voice startled her.

“Jittina, Alora, the Prince wants you both. Now.” Momma said from behind Jittina.

“Yes, Momma,” Alora said. She was a petite catgirl, as small as most of the harem’s mouse-maids, with a cream-colored coat two shades lighter than Jittina’s own mouse-brown.

“Yes, Momma.” Jittina managed not to squeak. Momma Sultana wasn’t that much bigger than either Alora or Jittina herself, but she was a plumper, older, and darker-furred cat. As the mother of Prince Kasbor, she also ruled over his harem slaves: Alora and the other catgirls, Jittina and the other mouse-maids, and the two bunny sisters.

Alora closed the backgammon set and stood to join Jittina. Momma inspected them both, from the tops of their ears to the tops of their bare feet, taking in the scanty green silks, golden collars, exposed midriffs, and tails – furred and bare, respectively. She nodded approval and twisted a ring on her finger.

A jimp popped out of the air. The grinning little creature waved its hands, and cuffs appeared, securing the wrists and hobbling the ankles of the two harem slaves. Still grinning, it strutted off, escorting Jittina and Alora out of the harem chambers.

Prince Kasbor was tall, lean, and faintly tiger-stripped. He should have been handsome, but Jittina had always thought of him as cute. Even during their first encounters, when she had been much more nervous than she cared to admit. It was his big green eyes, and his ready grin, and the way his fur always looked a little ruffled.

He sat on the couch in the Amethyst Room, with the Green Stocks standing against the opposite wall. “Thank you, that-will-be-all,” he told the jimp, then sighed as it bowed and vanished, leaving the cuffs and hobbles in place. A twist of a ring on his finger and the restraints vanished as well.

The cute grin appeared as Prince Kasbor inspected his two harem slaves. “Sit,” he commanded, patting the couch. Jittina sat, leaning against her tomcat owner as he placed an arm around her. Alora took his other side and received his other arm.

Jittina didn’t know what to hope for. Being bedded by the Prince was lots of fun, and she suspected – very quietly, even in her own thoughts – that she was a favorite of his. That Alora’s presence had been Momma Sultana’s idea, rather than Prince Kasbor’s. It made sense, from Momma’s point of view: Alora could give the Prince kittens, while Jittina couldn’t.

On the other hand, there was the temptation of the Green Stocks. Jittina had been locked in that engraved device twice before, and looked forward to experiencing its magical comfort and delight for a third time. And it would please Momma Sultana if Alora was tonight’s sole bedslave. But enjoying the stocks would also mean disappointing Prince Kasbor.

Now Prince Kasbor was frowning. Jittina could tell just from seeing the back of his ears. She leaned forward to see for herself what was wrong. Alora sat looking at the stocks, frozen. No, frightened. There were some girls, Jittina knew, that found tickling to be an infernal torment, rather than a honey-sweet pleasure, but she hadn’t realized that Alora was one of them. Well, then.

“Please, master,” Jittina said. “I beg the tickle!”

Sitting in the Green Stocks, Jittina smiled reassurance at Alora. The catgirl looked embarrassed, guilty, and inexpressibly grateful as she lay bound with silken cords. Closer at hand, Prince Kasbor secured the sixth lock and gave Jittina’s bare tail a last tweak, in its hidden bracket, before stepping back to join Alora on the couch. A twist of one of his rings, and four tickle-orbs appeared. The silver spheres dropped below the top of the stocks’ footboards, out of Jittina’s sight, and a moment later Jittina felt the feather-combs: Two on each of her bare soles.

They applied a soft, slow touch; just enough to tease. A light touch stroking up Jittina’s soles from heel to toes. A touch Jittina was helpless to avoid, with her ankles held in the stocks and her large- and little-toes tied down with silken cords. Nor could Jittina reach forward, even futilely, for her arms were secured as well: Spread wide and locked to the back of the stocks with padded cuffs, one at each wrist and one on each upper arm.

Every so often the feather-combs would speed up and dig in, tickling with just enough vigor to force a giggle from Jittina. Then they would slow again, resuming that soft and gentle touch, brushing across her soles. They would tease her toes, and the sensitive skin between them. They would tickle – very lightly tickle – the balls of her feet and the arches below. Occasionally one of the tickle-orbs would rise up and move in to apply its feather-comb across Jittina’s bare midriff, or along her bare arm. Then it would drop back and down again, joining the other three in the tickling of her feet.

The tickling continued: Not a vigorous tickle, not an energetic tickle, but a soft and steady tickle. Not enough of a tickle to make Jittina helpless with laughter – the bonds of the stocks were what trapped her. They held her in place, perfectly, keeping her vulnerable to the sweetly relentless and unpredictable tickling of the magical spheres.

Prince Kasbor was watching her from the couch, one arm comforting the still-tied Alora. The little catgirl snuck occasional peeks at Jittina, and the mouse-maid nodded back. A sudden grin came to the prince’s face, and he raised his free hand to gesture: A silent, teasing coochie-coo. Jittina giggled. Then she giggled some more, squirming, as she suddenly became aware of the tickle-line being drawn just above her belly button. And the two tickle-lines on her soles, rising from her heels to her toes. And the feather-comb running along each arm in turn, tickling the sensitive skin under her thin mouse-fur.

Jittina squirmed and laughed. She couldn’t help squirming and laughing. She couldn’t do anything but squirm and laugh as the four orbs tickled. She was locked in the Green Stocks, helpless and vulnerable, as the silver spheres with their feather-combs tickled, and tickle-tickled, and tickle-tickle-tickled. Not just on the naked soles of her feet, but everywhere.

The tickling slowed again. Now it was a honey-sweet trickle that let Jittina stop giggling and mostly stop squirming. She could catch her breath and wonder what turn the next tickle would take. Her owner was watching her, amusement in his big green eyes. She nodded to him, both begging and challenging, and his grin turned up to reinforce his amusement.

Prince Kasbor gestured, miming a tug that made Jittina aware of her collar. That made her aware of her bonds, of her helplessness, of her bare feet and bare fur exposed to the feather-combs. It was a pleasant awareness. Jittina felt a nibble of happiness at this reminder of how Prince Kasbor valued her. Just as he valued Alora, bound and now purring under his hands. Just as he valued all the other slavegirls of his harem.

The tickling stopped. Jittina cocked her ears in a question, and her owner’s cute grin grew wider. Prince Kasbor twisted a ring on his finger and three jimps appeared, holding lute, gourd-flute, and drum. They began to play. Jittina recognized at once The Veils of Niona Nubile, an infamous lust-melody both lazy and exciting.

The tickling resumed, now matching the tempo of the music. Tease, tease, tease; bare feet bathed in tickle-sensations. Tease, tickle, tease; as one or two or three of the silver spheres applied feather-combs to Jittina’s upper body. Tease, tickle, tease; as Prince Kasbor rose to saunter over and apply his own touch, here and there, tickling her belly button and her toes.

“Choochie choochie coo!” he purred into her mouse-ears as his fingers forced Jittina to giggle and squirm in a most exciting way. “Choochie choochie coo!” More tickle-touches, and then Jittina felt her harem-halter slip away. Her skirt followed, as Prince Kasbor stripped her naked without releasing her bonds. “Mmm-hmm,” he purred as his hand ran down from Jittina’s collar, between her now-bare breasts. “Mmm-hmm,” he repeated as his hand continued downward, dancing over her belly and beyond to that most naked part below her belly-button.

The Veils of Niona Nubile came to an end. “I’ll be back for you,” Prince Kasbor whispered. “Later.”

Jittina nodded. Prince Kasbor returned to the couch to carry off Alora. The little catgirl gave Jittina a look of guilty gratitude as their mutual owner slung her over his shoulder. Jittina returned a reassuring smile.

Then the two felines were gone, leaving Jittina still trapped in the green tickle-stocks. The three jimps began to play another tune, one with a faster tempo. One that signaled quicker and more vigorous tickles to come. Jittina drew her breath in, in anticipation. Perhaps this time she would get enough.

The silver spheres spun before Jittina’s eyes before dropping again below the foot-stocks. And once more Jittina felt them deploy their feather-combs against her bare soles.

(The End)