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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Fanfiction · #2223726
A dragon damsel in distress is barely in distress.
         The attack was swift and sure, easily overcoming the defences of the militia led by If? Strategist Kobayashi Yoshi. Unlike a skilful strategist, an if? strategist such as he was merely an amateur planner whose strategies were questionable at best. He formed a strategy on the fly in a feeble attempt to rescue the town from the mysterious invaders, who seemed to outclass the militia in every respect. He rallied his troops as if with a rainbow and led them with a battle command. They lifted their voices in a rousing cheer when they beheld their foes withdraw, however the if? strategist growled softly when he realized the enemies had not been after the town, but rather the dragon who fought by his side in everything from skirmish to pitched battle. He picked up a verdant-hued rock and vanished into the shadows, leaving Dragon Master Seruju in command.

         Through her amethyst eyes, Kobayashi Nono scanned the room in which she had been locked after the sudden attack. For all the world, it looked like a dungeon, complete with water dripping one potentially maddening slow drop at time. A stranger might have mistakenly blamed her captors for their cruelty in imprisoning a child, for so Nono appeared at first glance with her diminutive stature, flawless skin, and innocent features, nevertheless her luminous violet eyes, tapering ears, tiara, lime tresses which flowed in colours from a lime's pulp near the top of her head to a lime's deep green rind down her back, and her crop top of dragon scales, hinted who she really was.

         'She is a mamkute, and not just any mamkute, the wife of Rosanne's strategist; without weapon or dragon stone, she will be forced to reveal all we need to know to conquer that pathetic duchy and rule it with an iron grip. Fuwahahaha!' the prison warden announced, ending his description of the dragon girl with an evil laugh. 'You know what to do,' he said to his lackey, then he turned and left the cell.

         Nono noticed this peculiar dungeon room featured a cot which looked oddly comfortable; when she took a seat she was pleasantly surprised it felt as comfy as it appeared. With a curious smile, she looked at the man tasked with extracting information from her; his face was hidden behind a torturer's mask. He could not bring himself to harm her, but if she did not talk as his superiors desired, he would be the person facing imprisonment and torture. Flames danced about his open palm for a moment, then singed Nono's prettily tapering ears, a sensitive spot for any mamkute, or they would have, if the special attack were not Feather Fire. Nono grinned widely, then burst into a river of giggles, feeling the harmless heat tickle her cute face. The flames licked under the mamkute's chin and across her fair neck, tickling her there as well as her collarbones, whereupon they dissipated on contact with her cape and her jewelled heart pendant. She blushed amid her sweet giggles while she felt the feathers of flame tickle her head, her tiara and hair snuffing out the fire, which curiously avoided her nose, mouth, and purple peepers.

         The masked man lifted the mamkute, how gently, she thought, and he placed her face-up on the cot. He drew what she took to be his dagger and she braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut, her eyes popping open a moment later, musical laughter pouring from her mouth, for she felt not a sharp edge but a cleverly disguised feather tickling her sculpted navel. The feather strayed from her navel, gliding across her smooth, bare midriff, up and down, side to side. The dragon girl's ears wiggled, her cheeks flushed, her eyes started to water, and she roared with ticklish laughter. Her tickler had found her weak spot. Yet, tickle Nono though he might, he would never divulge any information from her, only lovely laughter, for she shared a wonderful trait with every mamkute. Tickling was not torture for her, but rather pure pleasure. Nonetheless, something bothered her a bit; when Yoshi proposed marriage to her, she requested he never leave her side again. Where was her husband now?

         Nono was so sensitive to touch on her midriff, not only would writing there tickle her intensely, she could recognize the words written. Imagine her surprise when she felt a finger tickle her soft midsection with the message, 'Pretty girl, shall we go?' Nono's ears perked up while she let out an elated gasp. No one but Yoshi communicated with her by writing on her midriff and he even addressed her with his pet name for her. Yoshi put a finger to her lips in caution. He wrapped her in a big hug, his left hand's fingers tracing an embossed 柚子 on a golden coin, his right hand's digits wiggling along one side of his wife's silky abdomen, her peals of laughter giving the illusion of tickle torture. The strategist of Rosanne and his ticklish dragon wife exited the area, seeming to wink out of existence.

         The Kobayashi couple reappeared in Duke Vioru's manor, where they joined the duke and Seruju for an iffy strategy meeting regarding how to deal with the powerful invaders.
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