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"A Gothic Guffaw"

(A/N: Special thanks to Crowns-and-Quills on DeviantArt for providing the story to go with this one, along with the title! Go check out and support their work!)


The villagers chattered amongst themselves as they passed to and fro along the marketplace path. They worked from store to store, browsing their wares, before coming across an odd display being prepared outside the tavern house: a crude poll box sitting in front of the front doors with a slapdash sign hanging from its front face that read in bold-carved lettering HELP SOMEONE HAVE SOME FUN. The tavern barmaids made their rounds outside, eying potential voters as they pushed for the ballot box. One by one, the villagers shuffled forward and cast their votes inside. The morning dragged on into the afternoon and the barmaids left inside the tavern with the voting box in hand and a coy smirk on their faces.
Beyond the village walls, a lone woman lived in a hut by the woods. She was a peculiar woman, far drearier than the villagers, who spent her time working over a cauldron and a garden of herbs. She cared little for the festivities within the village walls—the calm of the forest around her was more than enough company for her. She was out on another quiet day of gardening when she was met by a visitor. She was a chipper girl from the tavern, a cheery redhead still adorned in her costume. The woman paid the redhead no mind at first as she returned to tending her garden, but the tavern girl wouldn’t leave. She hovered over the brooding potion brewer as she went about her day of garden-tending and alchemy. By the time the day turned to dusk, the ravenette asked the redhead why she came to her hut if she wasn’t looking for medicine before shooing her away. The tavern girl announced they were doing a ballot drawing in the village tomorrow and they wanted her to come by to see the performance. The outsider scoffed at the thought—she had more important things to tend to and was under the impression the villagers didn’t like her anyway. The redhead was quick to reject such thoughts, saying the villagers will have plenty of time to know her if she shows up tomorrow. Begrudgingly, she accepted and finally shooed the tavern girl off.
If only she knew what lied in store for her that day…
She arrived in town around noon, keeping away from the crowds as she gauged the stores’ wares. They were deemed of passable quality. She followed the chatter toward the main square and she saw the villagers huddle by the stone clearing outside the tavern house. She lingered along the outside of the commotion, watching carefully as the costumed tavern girls emerged from the tavern with the ballot box brimming with paper slip. The redhead noticed her away from the crowd and shot her a quick wave and a wink. The potion maker watched on with a raised eyebrow as the tavern girls shushed the crowd and began the counting. The ravenette groaned to herself—she was only invited so they could exclude her again, wasn’t she?
Her suspicions were dashed when she heard a vote with her name.
Then another.
Then another.
The more votes that piled in her favor, the more curious the woman became. Curious with a slight wary leaning. She didn’t realize how many people recognized her.
By the time the counting died down, she had won with a five-vote lead. The redhead bound from the clearing and sauntered through the crowd toward the woman with an outstretched hand. At a loss for words, the potion maker took the tavern girl’s hand and tried not to meet the gaze of the villagers as she was escorted through the audience toward the tavern. She was twisted around and displayed to the cheering crowd, clapping and congratulating her all the while. A few men in the crowd fired off a few wolf whistles at her direction, which made the woman’s cheeks flush for a moment. It was only then that she noticed the display behind her.
A pole with a pair of stools beneath it with a pair of wooden poles at the end.
Slowly, the woman was ushered over toward the setup and secured with her wrists tied together overhead and her ankles resting on the poles. With a firm knot and a latch of the poles’ cuffs, she realized her predicament all too late. The tavern girl manning the poles quickly slipped the woman’s shoes off, flashing her dainty, pale, stirrup-clad soles to the audience before, after a moment of anticipation, the tickling began.
The trapped goth was blindsided by the two tavern girls at her sides, their nails flicking and skittering against her shuddering pits with another hand teasing at her exposed belly. Amidst her rising laughter, she glanced over at the redhead at ler left who met her look of betrayal with a smirk as her hand scribbled faster against the woman’s underarm.
By the ravenette’s feet, another tavern girl took to spidering her fingers up and down her trembling feet. She buckled against the ankle locks as fiercely as she could, but could do no better than make the metal creak against her struggle. Her toes curled and squirmed as the brunette managed to snake her fingers beneath her stirrups and tease at the center of her trembling arches. The villagers watched on and chuckled along with the ravenette as she twisted and turned in her seat for the audience, tears streaming freely down her face.
The tavern girl’s nails hooked in and swirled around her underarms, nestling nicely into her hollowed pits as she churned and buckled in her seat and forced the nails to dig deeper into her skin. Teasing her belly with one hand, the blonde strummed her fingers across the goth’s tender abs with an occasional hook into the woman’s trembling navel. The potion maker jerked and jolted with every pick, flick, and scrambling nail gliding along her armpits and stomach.
Her feet fared no better. The brunette was all too keen to show off her handiwork, for lack of a better word, to the audience as she played and teased her volunteer’s wriggling feet. The goth’s soles swayed to and fro in a wild dance, her toes bouncing and pounding at the balls of her feet in a tickly rhythm that the foot-focused tavern girl gladly followed. Her fingers slid through whatever wrinkles the woman’s pale peds could muster. There was a slight hair-raising thrill when she scribbled her fingers upward and felt them sink a little into the tender flesh at the tops of her feet—something the hermit girl noticed immediately if her scrunching toes and flinching forward soles were anything to go by.
The ravenette was at a loss—truly at loss as the tavern girls had their fun while the villagers looked on. With a deepening blush on her face, all she could do was sit locked-and-tied and laugh. Her laughter was frantic yet harmonious—something many people did not expect and found a wonderful surprise given her appearance. Swathes of black and purple hair flew wildly into the air as she struggled like a flurry of violet-tipped flames licking at the pole holding her wrists above her head.
As the fingers left her body and feet, the goth slumped forward with her eyes warily looking around in a haze. Her chest heaved for air as she tested her bonds once more to no avail. As the tavern girls played to the crowd, the ravenette closed her eyes and hoped they were done.
A clattering inside a bowl forced the girl’s eyes to open. She gazed up to notice the girls eyeing her again with smirks plastered across their faces. A bucket of tools laid by their feet.
A bead of sweat rolled down her face as she saw the girls holding small wooden rakes in each hand. Her dread only mounted further as they slowly approached her, ready to resume the performance for the crowd.
It seemed like it would never end for her. Like time froze the moment she sat down in front of the crowd. As the day rolled on and she laughed into the afternoon, she wished more and more that she just rejected the offer and stayed home.
Though, one may wonder if the tavern girls would have just come by her humble little hut and collected her to perform for the villagers regardless.


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The following is included in this reward:

  • High-resolution artwork
  • An additional version lacking the Patreon watermark and with a different signature
  • A TIFF file version with all layers

-Skaea

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