Your Featherlands CYOA Journey ~ Chapter 14 (Patreon)

Despite dreading the implications of such a lesson, you cannot seem to deny the importance of being able to withstand mass amounts of tickles, accounting for all of your instances of falling lone victim to the Featherland’s quirk and whimsey. You groan a bit and scratch the back of your head. You look over Momo’s tired body. She’s endured plenty of tickles since you’ve both arrived and still very much aware, a product of her Featherland physiology, no doubt. Thinking back to everything that you’ve endured thus far, you can hardly believe you’ve fared as well as you have given your apparent ticklishness. However, after everything you’ve heard of this event, you sigh into the most responsible and rational course of action.

“I think… I need to work on my endurance in being tickled,” you say. “I shouldn’t take the risk of being eliminated against actual Featherlanders…” Valina’s face brightens as she bounces excitedly in place.

“Goodie!” the princess cheers. She hops up and down as she claps her hands. “The human asking to be tickled, that warms my heart so much!” You roll your eyes as you turn to Momo. She begins to stir in her binds, her closed eyes wincing as she begins to wake. You rush up to her, stroking her hair out of her face.

“Momo,” you say softly. Her skin is warm and musky to the touch, waves of warmth emanating from her body. She breathes steadily, having regained a fair range of homeostasis in her sudden rest. Her head swims a bit as she wakes, looking around.

“H… human?” Momo asks. Valina stands back as you try to free her from her binds, unsuccessfully. You groan and turn back to the princess.

“Can you get her out, please?” you ask, your voice growling with frustration. Valina rolls her eyes.

“I guess,” she says. “I guess she isn’t my focus anymore, anyway.” Valina comes up to the other side of the rack and begins to unlock the shackles one at a time by a key from her belt. You help ease Momo out of the rack and onto a nearby bench. Valina watches with her arms crossed as you sooth Momo’s burning head, accompanying her recovery.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Momo winces and smiles tiredly.

“P-precious…” Momo whispers. “I… I told you I’m not in as much danger as you may expect…” You chuckle.

“I guess not,” you say. You stay by Momo’s side, stroking her hair and lifting her to an upright sit. Momo rubs her head while her composure steadily returns.

“Perhaps being tickled until faint is not as common in your world, human,” Momo says.

“No, I don’t think so,” you say, kneeling by Momo’s side. You hold her other hand in your own tenderly. She turns to you and smiles.

“I would say it is a pretty common nuisance here,” Momo says, wincing through the pounding in her head, “challenging though it may be.” Princess Valina steps forward. She stands tall, her arms crossed in front of her.

“And that is what our human contender here intends to improve upon, isn’t it, human?” Valina says, her voice cut with shrill condescension. You sigh and turn back to see her with a large smile and her hands planted on her hips.

“What do you mean?” Momo asks. The stubborn princess rolls her eyes.

“Okay, I know we’re alone and I’ve been giving you both some preferentials until now, but can you please pepper in some formalities?” Valina says. You groan as Momo pauses before speaking again. “I do have an image to uphold here. I’m still your princess.”

“What do you mean… your highness?” Momo asks, sourly. Valina chuckles. She flips back her golden crown of flowing hair. She smirks, holding herself upright within the darkened lair.

“That’s better,” Princess Valina says. “And I mean that your little human friend here has opted to train in… ticklish endurance so that they too can last as long as, you know, the rest of us.” Momo looks back at you, her eyes wide with immediate concern.

“Are you sure?” Momo asks. You shrug and smile to reassure her.

“I am,” you say. “I mean, if I’m going to get caught, which… well, I haven’t been very lucky in avoiding doing so thus far, I might as well be able to take it well and recover quickly. So if I only have time to train in one thing before the big event, then I’d like to at least make it out, even if I can’t win.”

“Smart move, human,” Valina adds. “Too many humans get trapped here because they can’t handle the tickles the way us Featherlanders can. But ‘not winning’ isn’t much of an option. I’m going to need you to win. Or… scratch that, you are going to need you to win.” Momo keeps her eyes on you. She reaches out and takes your hand.

“Are you sure?” Momo asks. You look back at her.

“Why?” you ask. “Am I making some huge mistake?”

“Not questioning your decision, I too think it’s for the best, but…” Momo says, stalling worriedly.

“The human said endurance,” Valina interjects quickly, “so we practice… endurance.” You sigh a bit and swallow nervously. You rub the back of your head once more.

“I assume I know what that entails,” you explain. “And yes, I… I think it’s for the best.”

“Oh, me too,” Princess Valina says, failing to contain her enthusiasm. “In fact, I think we should get started on that right now. The sooner the better. What say you, human?” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. You breathe deeply through the musk circulating the dark, damp room.

“Fine,” you say. You glance over to Momo as Valina’s expression brightens with an almost sinister grin. Momo turns to you, her eyes gleaming with care and worry.

“You don’t have to do this for me, human,” Momo says. “I know it is… a lot.” You smile, showing her a more confident look in the face of dreadful uncertainty.

“I’m sure, I promise,” you say. You eye over to Valina and lean in closer to Momo’s perked ear, shielding your lips from Valina’s sight. “You have your mission and I have mine.” Momo sighs, anxious yet reassured. She swallows as you pull away, nodding back at you.

“You are indeed brave, human,” Momo says. “Win or lose, I am certain that the princess and I will find some way to repay your willing participation in the Ticklecadia.”

“Pfft, they better win,” Valina says, tossing her hair back. “I don’t personally put this much effort into anything, so you better not let me down.” You groan and stand, helping raise Momo to her feet.

“We’ll see,” you say. “It’ll be partially your fault, your highness, for betting on a human in a Featherland contest for the sake of novelty.” Valina chuckles, her stance beaming with pride.

“Which is why, when you win, everyone around will respect my rule,” Valina says. “But in order to do that, human, you have to get better. So…” The princess reaches into a small pocket by the breast of her dress. She pulls out a long feather, its fibers shimmering with an almost metallic sheen of blue and purple, wafting softly in the air. “Let’s make you better.”

Valina leads you and Momo to a garden in a closed-off courtyard. The sun glares down at you for the first time in what feels like a week. It’s comforting, yet not without suspicion to the princess’s motives. The courtyard is decorated with vast stretches of flowers and small trees, all circulating a single tree offering a wide circle of shade from the sun’s harsh rays. The area is blocked off by walls, atop which guards stand by with bows strapped to their backs. You and Momo exchange a brief look upon stepping outside, wondering if this would be the place to make the great escape, and yet the possibilities for that appear all but vanished before you at the sight of the defenses put in place.

“Your highness, if I may speak…” you begin to say, following Valina’s unguarded path.

“Hmm, I like your kindness, human,” Valina says. “Go ahead.”

“Why do you keep so many prisoners to torment?” you ask. “Forgive me, but you seem so… I don’t know, sweeter than that. I just… don’t see the point.” Valina smiles and tosses back her hair.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, human, but don’t let that stop you,” Valina says.

“I’m serious… your highness,” you say. Momo looks your way, wondering what your plan is. “I just don’t get it. Why not let them all go?” A whistle of wind cuts through a pause lingering over the questioning. The leaves rustle in the mighty tree as you come closer and closer to its protective shade. You look around at the color arrays of flowers as you wait for your answer, long enough to begin imagining that you might not get one. “Your highness.”

“It’s not something that…” Valina says before pausing for a heavy sigh. “It’s not something that I should be talking about so openly. And it’s certainly not something that should concern you all that much either, human.”

“But it does,” you say sharply. “I feel for them, but it’s also… you're better than that, princess. I just don’t feel like that’s all you and I’m trying to put it together in my head.” Valina shakes her head.

“You… you wouldn’t understand, human,” Valina says. “It’s… complicated.” You begin to speak again when Momo chimes in.

“Many kingdoms keep prisoners to break into slaves or to simply torment as a message to other kingdoms,” she says bluntly. “As horrid as it is, it is not so uncommon.”

“Well, maybe it shouldn’t be like that,” you say. “Did you ever stop to think that it’s barbaric and cruel to just keep people from all over just to torture them?” Momo fell quiet as Valina hung her head, leading the two closer to the central tree.

“Like I said, it’s complicated,” Valina said quietly and sternly sincere.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” you say. Momo turns to you as Valina stops and looks back, partially shocked by your declaration. You stand strong and speak quietly to keep the discussion safely continuing out of the wrong ears. “Listen, you’re right, I don’t understand all your customs still, and I really am just trying to get back to my home, one way or another, but if I’m going to be here to help anyway I can, then that includes fighting back when people are being wrongfully harmed and taken from their homes. It’s injustice, your highness, and I think you’re smart enough to see it. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but I really do think you’re better than that.”

“And what would you have me do, human?” Valina bit back through clenched teeth. “Stock in prisoners is what keeps invading forces at bay. For generations, it’s been a qualifier of power and order in, not just my kingdom, but all kingdoms. It instills fear, respect, justice to those that do my people wrong. It provides jobs, helps progress industry, production, and technology in my land, keeps everything flowing smoothly and no one thinks twice about it.” Valina took a moment, glancing down at her slippers and stockings clinging to her pink-toned skin. She shook her head and sighed once more. “Plumewood is my father’s, King Valeor’s, kingdom. It is run according to his say, not mine. I simply uphold his laws and… everything seems to work out. It’s traditions and tactical maintenance. No, I don’t expect you to understand that, but what I expect is for you to do what you’re told and win the Ticklecadia. Then, perhaps, you, I, and the king can share a council discussing better practices. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

“Okay,” you say with more words on your mind. Your mutual dismissal restore’s Valina’s cheery disposition. She bounces excitedly as you all approach the tree in the middle of the garden.

“Goodie!” Valina says. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun with this next part!”

“You haven’t been having ‘fun’ already?” you ask dryly. Valina giggles. She leads you up to the tree. It sits like a monarch among the blooming flowers around it, letting just enough sun to pass through its many towering branches for all of them to flourish. You look up to see it cresting just above the walls of the courtyard, a massive monument of floral accomplishment. Its leaves were a vibrant shade of green while it boasted thousands of small blossoms of pink and purple and light yellow. A gentle rosy aroma wafted through the air around it, petals fluttering about on the fragrant breeze that shifted the tree’s many, mighty arms. While not as large as the Mother Tree you had witnessed on the elven compound, it was still quite immaculate in size, and certainly the most colorful and visually astounding tree you have seen thus far.

“This here is the Aromea Gargalas,” Valina says admiringly. “One of only seven found throughout the Featherlands, our most prized treasure here in Plumewood. People come from all over to witness her. It’s said that dancing around her ten times in a row will bring good luck. I don’t know if it’s true, but I have no reason to doubt her.” Valina walked up and placed her hand gently on the sturdy brown trunk. Around the base, several roots could be seen breaching the grass where more flowers circled her majesty. Valina pressed her forehead against the tree, closing her eyes deep in thought. “I call her Melody. I used to come here all the time as a little girl to hear the whistle through her branches. Melody always makes such pretty music.”

“She’s really quite something,” you say. “Truth be told, though, I thought we were coming out here to train endurance. Was kind of surprised when you were walking us out of the dungeons.” Valina chuckled.

“Don’t you worry about that,” she said, backing away from the tree. “Melody has other ways of making music too.”

“Oh?” you ask. Valina bows her head. She purses her lips and begins whistling an elaborate tune. The ethereal music echoes through the courtyard. The leaves of the tree begin to rustle above your head. The flowery fragrance in the air grows stronger. You swallow as you look up to see the branches beginning to shift and the leaves rustling more aggressively, feeling little wind rush by to upset them. Valina continues to whistle as a vine shoots down, in the flash of a blink, and latches onto your wrist. You jump and instinctively pull away, looking down to see the sturdy green tendril coiled tightly against your skin.

“Oh no, not again,” you mutter, trying to shake it off. “Do all Featherland plants d– gaaahhh!” You feel yourself being tugged upward while Valina continues her tune. As you struggle to free yourself from the one vine, another shoots down to wrap around your other wrist. It pulls your arm out and away, lifting you slowly into the stirring branches above like a squirming rag doll. You stare down, wide-eyed back to Valina, still whistling her tune, and Momo watching you with intrigue. You maintain a strong composure as the tree pulls you up into the leafy crown. The branches sway slowly out of your way, creating an alcove within the leaves just big enough to host your body and stretched arms. Valina’s tune ends as she steps back to look up where you dangle.

“Did it work?” Valina calls up.

“Did what work?” you ask back, shifting anxiously in place. “I don’t even know what’s happening. Is this the endurance test?” Valina giggles as she stares upward, standing by Momo’s side. She crosses her arms and looks over to Momo.

“The human is your stand-in, so you’re going to help me train it,” Valina says. Momo stares with a lengthy gaze up to where you dangle in the tree. She nods solemnly with a small smirk.

“That certainly seems fair, your highness,” Momo says. “So long as we don’t break them too easily.” Valina giggles proudly.

“That’ll be on you, if we do,” Valina says. “They’re your champion, after all.” Both watch you squirm in place, held up by your wrists among the shifting branches and leaves. You watch shadows shift in the limited light of the canopy. You see shapes moving about, some more swift than others. You brace yourself, knowing well what the mysterious tree would likely be capable of in the strange land in which you’ve found yourself. You see the tree’s flowers begin facing in your direction, some blooming down the lengths of their own vines snaking closer. The leaves rustle excitedly around you, closing in on the alcove they’ve created.

“Don’t worry about a thing, human!” Valina calls up to you. “Just act naturally. She’s just hungry. I can’t imagine she’s been properly fed in a while now.”

“What do you mean fed?!” you yell back. Valina giggles.

“Silly human, you should know by now…” the princess mutters. The vines come closer, curiously, reminding you of the vines you had encountered in the Giggling Groves. The pedals of the flowers flutter, their texture flourished with light fibers. The flowers and the surrounding leaves shimmer with a bright saturation of color, their texture appearing fuzzy and feathery soft. They close in more and more around you until a leafy vine begins snaking down your stretched arm. You look up, immediately feeling the residual effects of the plant’s fine, furry substance. The small fibers rise beneath the watch of a close eye, stroking against your skin as it moves downward toward your vulnerable pit. Already, the texture leaves behind small barbs, prodding painlessly into your skin. You start to see more of their touch, as if the gentle movement was scraping harmlessly against your direct nerves. You start to feel the air shifting around the areas, the heat from the sun above, and the vibration scurrying throughout the movement of the tree’s many arms. You know the feeling as a distinct rise in sensitivity, feeling this dread with an instant rise in your skin’s overall ticklishness, being receptive in stretches of skin you had not been before.

“Neeeehhhahaheeheeheheee…” You begin giggling and squirming in place. The vine coils down your arm, drawing closer and closer to your pit. As much as you try to squirm free, you can feel the hold of the beast, in which you’ve been taken, to be much stronger than your own. You consider your gained abilities like the Manic Shock and the burn that Momo’s grain had given to your hands, but as you start to contemplate your chance of escape within your trial, the vine reaches your pit and the tickles begin a much more demanding assault on your senses. “Whaaaahhahahahannnnaaaahahahahahahahaaaa!!”

Much like what you experienced in the Giggling Groves, the tip of the vine reaches your pit like a finger, scribbling and scratching the tender hollow with a distinct motivation to tickle. It rubs itself up against your skin, slipping into the tied sheet covering your body to riddle every inch of sensitive flesh with its tiny barbs. You squirm more and more as your laughter increases, every little swipe and motion igniting the already abundant ticklishness throughout. Your hands ball into fists. You shake your head as your flailing legs thrash beneath you. You pull and pull at both vines holding you suspended among the foliage. The branches shift and leaves rustle around you, eagerly excited by the ticklish display in their captivity.

“Ohhhnnaaahahahahahahaaa!! Nooo it ticklessssshahahahahaaa!!” you squeal. The flowers lining the vines stretch out their petals toward you, reaching for the delectable, ticklish skin in their proximity. The tiny blooms also swipe against you like feathers dancing along to the laughter that spills from your mouth. More vines snake down the neckline of your cloth. They come closer, latching onto your skin and leaving behind more ticklish spurs there they meticulously slither. Another large vine inched down your other arm. It purposefully makes its way toward your other pit, still tickling the skin it slithers on like an eager serpent hunting for a meal. You shake your head as your arms and collar become flushed with ticklish stimulation, all bursting through your senses simultaneously. “NooooaaaaahhahahhahAHAHHAHAHAHAH!!! PLEEEAHAHAHHAHAHAHHASE!!!”

“You said you wanted to practice endurance,” Valina shouts from the ground. She and Momo stood by, watching you squirm in place as your ticklish display nourishes the mighty plant. “I just figured we’d feed Melody while we’re at it.”

“You won’t let her drain the human, will you?” Momo asks.

“Of course not, what’s the good in that?” Valina says. “But it’s been a while since she’s had a really good meal and I can tell that she’s really enjoying this one!” The sound of leaves stirring surrounds where you hang in place. More vines inch closer toward your body, each bearing a modest concentration of feathery leaves and flowers, fluffing against your skin like plumes. Both of your underarm hollows become viciously occupied by the vines and their lucious effects. The leaves bared against your skin swipe like gentle feathers, rushing tickles that traverse the hair-like barbs down to your nerves, releasing near torturous sensations with ease. The flowers stroke the supple stretches of sensitive skin and release small clouds of spores that unleash ticklish tingles on their own. The vines themselves act like tendrils fingers, scratching and exploring all across your upper half, turning areas that weren’t ticklish devilishly so and spots that were into raging mounds of sensitivity.

“NAAAAAAHHHHHHAHHAHAHAH!!! NNNAAAGGGGHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Within minutes, your laughter screams from your throat. Dozens of fingers and feathers stroke your skin, made ticklish in ways that you had scarcely felt before. You flail in place, trapped within the tight hold of the vines and the dreary state of perpetual helplessness. You fight for air through fits of untamed laughter. You see through teary eyes more vines snaking in your direction, more flowers pointed toward your manic expressions. You twist in place as the band covering your chest and underarms quickly become devoured by the ticklish antics of the tree. You hold on as best as you can, knowing the trial to be testing and better your endurance. You laugh and huff and squirm about as every available inch of skin below your neck becomes a targeted assault of pure ticklish subjugation.

“Remember to breathe, human,” Valina calls upward. “Breathe through the laughter. It’ll help keep your mind clear and will stave off faint.”

“The forces in the Ticklecadia will be much more challenging than this,” Momo comments worriedly.

“Don’t you worry your sweet little kitty head about it,” Valina says. “Melody’s not done with them yet.” As you hang and try to focus purely on enduring the ticklish ordeal, you feel more of the tree’s arms and fingers creeping your way. You squirm freely up until the moment when more vines begin coiling around your ankles. They hold on just as tightly as your wrists, stretching your body out in a taut X formation. The tendrils that continue to scribble and swipe against your delicate pits invite more to venture downward. They trace across the rigid halves of your ribs and begin winding around your waist. They hold you in place as their small hairs latch onto your skin, digging and tickling against your nerves within.

“WHHHAAAAHHHAHAHHAHHA!!! MAHAHAHAHAKE IT STAAHAHAHAHAHAP!!!” you shout while wriggling in place. Your body hangs, splayed out for the tree’s many appendages to reach you all over. The vines coil around your hips and continue to explore your midsection. The tips spread about your ribs, scratching up and down the delicate dips in between. They circle your sides and riddle your skin with more of their scribbling barbs. The leaves and flowers feather your ticklish regions from your underarms, across your ribs, all the way down to your belly, where several tips begin dipping into your navel, unprotected from beneath your sheet.

“You have to learn how to endure, human!” Valina says. “You’ll be up there every day until the Ticklecadia, so you better get better at outlasting your opponent.” The vines act on impulse, surrounding your body as they hunger for your ticklish energy. You had come to expect this of most, if not all, Featherland flora, but the extent to which the beast was willing to get it was quickly becoming unbearable. You hang with a vulnerability dense enough to encourage your total helplessness in the situation. Expected to simply endure, there’s little you can do in the lesson but focus on outlasting. You try to breathe through the stimulation, but the tree knows not only how to bind you and seize your most ticklish regions, but also how to increase your sensitivity again and again to its methods.

“GAAAAHHHHAHHAHAHAHHA OKAAHAHHAAYYY OKAAAHAHAHAHAYY!!” You try to force your mind away from the stimulation. The tickles begin to cover and assault your entire upper half. Your armpits remain the concentrated victim of at least two scribbling vines, while more remain planted at the other hotspots of your ribs, sides, and belly. More still seem to come closer. You know that it will only get worse with time and further exposure. If there was an opportunity to learn how to achieve serenity in sensory chaos, it was now. Continuing to squirm and laugh, you close your eyes and simply focus on breathing. You feel that if you can outlast your opponent’s efforts, you may be able to recover more quickly or even get the best of them when their guard becomes lowered. Anything to help validate the lesson and make the most out of the training.

“You can do it!” Momo calls up from the base of the tree. The ticklish torment continues. No amount of focus seems to block out the waves upon waves of tickles ravaging through your body. Still, you remain confident, even as you begin to enter a state of fatigued mindlessness, that the training will help in the long run. The exhaustion thrusts you into a frantic meditation, where time appears to cease and all that truly matters is breathing and enduring through the strain. As more tickles ignite all over your body, a new front begins to surface, one you knew to be inevitable. The vines holding your ankles invite more to slither closer. The branches shift around you excitedly. The leaves chorus a loud rustling as more of the beast’s tendrils draw closer toward your trapped, bare feet. Through the teary veil leaving you blind to the tree’s efforts, you begin to feel that same intensive approach grazing against both of your vulnerable soles at once.

“NEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! EEEEEKKKKKNNNHHHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” You shout as your body surges with violent jerks. The familiar stroking against your feet comes with an explosive effect pulsing with every touch. Your feet squirm uselessly along with the rest of your figure. The vines keep up with their erratic motions, seemingly enticed by their erupting response to the tickles. The faint, hairy tendrils stroke hungrily up and down both soles at once, each tiny barb scraping and leaving behind trails of utmost sensitivity. As with the rest of your body, the tickles compound and build upon one another when the vines strokes the stretches already tainted with the lodged hairs, creating waves upon waves of rising ticklish potency.

“This… may have been a bad idea,” Valina says, watching closely. Momo looks her way.

“What do you mean?” she asks. Valina scratches the side of her neck.

“I… may have forgotten how hungry Melody can get,” Valina says. “She’s really giving the human a full workdown.”

“STAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAP!!!” you scream through your laughter. You flail as the vines begin to reach your toes while the others continue to explore your other, now hyperticklish areas. Tears spill down your cheeks. Your stomach and jaw ache from the constant laughter. The stimulation pours through your senses from all directions, whittling your perception of the world around you to the laughter booming throughout the garden. You squirm and flail against the vines holding you tightly. The tips of the vines scribble and scratch at your spots while the leaves and flowers fluff your skin with a feathery grace. They begin to work in between your toes, sending your reception into fits far from manageable.

“But the human can do it, they have to,” Valina continues. “Ticklecadia will throw worse at them than this.” The tendrils and their plumes weave throughout your toes. They bind them tightly and fluff up and down the lengths of your soles. Each pass continues to send surging tickles up and through your nerves, again and again. The stimulation invites more of the tree’s efforts, leaving virtually no spot on your body free from the ticklish effects. The vines hold you in their grasp while others are tasted with skittering against your skin and leaving their sensitizing hairs in their wake. The flowers and leaves brush against you, igniting the tiny barbs left behind to instill flurries of tickles resonating throughout your person.

“GAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” You cry out, your voice growing dry and shaky. You thrash in the binds until your body begins to resign in fatigue. Sweat drips down your skin, the beads alone exciting the barbs that tickle with every slight touch. Your eyes begin to roll as it becomes apparent that the tree will simply continue feasting on your ticklish energy until you are rendered unconscious. You mind swirls, your temples pound with ache. The trial of enduring the tickles steadily becomes more challenging, yet with every new element, you feel more and more capable to withstand the ordeal.

“You can do it!” Momo cheers from below. Your scream of laughter echo throughout the entire courtyard. You hold out for as long as you think yourself able, trembling through the sensory pressure. The leaves waft against your stretched underarms. The vines stroke along the ridges of your ribs. Flowers stroke their petals against your sides. More vines end their curious, scribbling tips deep into your navel. They playfully stroke up and down your soles while more leaves and flowers fluff in between and underneath your ticklish toes. The tree leaves you cocooned in a snare of endless tickles, forcing you to endure a trial that you begin to suspect, in your limited mental faculties, is impossible.

A sharp whistle blows from below. The vines, leaves, and flowers tickling you suddenly retreat. Only the ones holding your body suspended remain. You gasp for air just as you began to imagine finally fainting. Sweat drips from your body and hair. Tears streak your burning cheeks. Your head pounds as your eyes begin to adjust. You open them, clearing away the tears, to see Valina and Momo standing in front of you. They seem to be held up by a pair of branches and a single vine wrapped around their waist for safety, joining you up in the canopy. As you huff and struggle for air, Momo leans in to inspect you.

“Are they still awake?” Valina asks, her voice distant and echoey in your head.

“It appears so,” Momo says. You can still feel every slight shift in the air against your skin. It tickles, not enough to instill laughter, but more than enough to be noticable. The barbs, whatever they may be, are still lodged in your skin, igniting a sensitivity within your nerves. Momo backs away, her tail swishing behind her.

“Wh… d… did I… do it?” you ask wearily.

“You’re going to have to get tougher than that,” Valina says, shaking her head. “But I’m happy you seemed to enjoy your time with Melody. She certainly enjoyed playing with you.” You cough and strain to breathe, steadily finding it easier.

“But… you should train more,” Momo adds. You force your head up, sweat raining down your face.

“M-more?” you ask.

“Of course!” Valina says. “But don’t worry. Melody might have gone a little too rough with you. We need you to be able to withstand for long periods of time. That’s what endurance is after all. So the kitty and I have decided to give you a choice.”

“C-choice?” you ask.

“Yeah!” Valina says excitedly. “With more of a personal touch, as it were. A more restrained, concentrated session to help make sure that you’re really ready for the event. You see, you will be paired with one of us loyally for the rest of your training. We will tickle you pretty much non-stop until then.”

“Not ‘non-stop’,” Momo adds.

“So, giving you the option human, out of the kindness of my heart,” Valina continues, ignoring Momo, “who would you rather orchestrate your ticklish training until the big day, hmm? Me? Or the pretty kitty?”

Who will you choose to tickle you?