The Dungeon Masters

[Darkenedstar14]

Sup, Everyone! Here's something I plan to continue for a while, a little strange since I usually just write short tales. No sneezing yet (sorry), just a chapter to set the scene first.

Cold, heavy metal around my wrists and ankles and even colder stone under my knees greeted me when I awoke. Pulling the arms from behind my back caused the sound of rattling chains to fill the room; which in turn made me aware of a large pounding in my head that (for once) wasn’t the aftereffects of some wonderful brew. Oh no, this was a true physical pain like that of slamming against a stone wall. Speaking of stone walls, opening my eyes exposed the sight of them and a couple of burning torches. The only other source of light came from a window with iron bars near the ceiling. The cell in itself was surprisingly clean other than the occasional patch of green moss on the floor. Not a hint of blood, death, or disease in the air; rather odd considering this was a dungeon. It was also obvious that I was the only occupant in here, which meant the rest of the group had either escaped, been captured, or died in the fight. If the rumors of the king's fierce army true, then it's likely the latter.

I sighed and allowed my head to sink towards the ground. Memories flowed through me as I closed my eyes, seeing my companions and the royal army in battle again. Well, if you could call it a battle. A fight involving a couple dozen small, desperate, half-starved thieves against a few large, healthy, well-trained soldiers only had one conclusion. Honestly, I’m surprised I’m even alive if the pain in my skull is any indication. Yet it’s only now that I realize this is the only pain I feel anywhere. I didn’t even feel any soreness despite being on my knees for…hours? Days? I don’t even know how much time has passed! Oh well, no use dwelling on it. Time to start focusing on more important matters. Like finding a way out of these damn chains and getting out this room. Before I could think of anything, I felt slight tingle suddenly develop along the inside of my nose. A few short, forceful breaths through my nose only seemed to move the itch to my nostrils. The only hope I had to soothe the irritation was rubbing it; which I couldn’t do it my position. Not even my shoulders could be drawn up for me to wipe against. Great.

Without warning the door in front of me opened, exposing an unnatural amount of bright light. I could barely make out the two man-shaped standing side by side in the doorway surround in the light. As they stepped into the room, I could see they wore maroon hued robes with a thick silver tinted rope tied around their waists. The same colors worn by the army and coated the royal crest seen throughout the major cities in these parts. The figures were the same height, had the exact same form, and the edge of the robe dragged along the ground below. The hoods over their faces prevented me from seeing anything other than a pitch black abyss. When they finally stopped a foot away from me, I realized that they weren’t much taller than I was. Regardless, I still had to look up on the account of my knees being tied to the floor. There was a strange scent hanging along their robes, some sort of spice that made my nose prickle. The hood to my left leaned down towards me and I heard this:

“So kind of you to be ready and awake for us. Thank you for being so patient, we had other matters to take care of. Unfortunately, we are now behind schedule and must proceed immediately.”

There was no way in hell that was a human under the hood. The pitch was far too high to fit a male, but it was still too deep too pass for a female. The words were said in a bland monotone with no hint of this region’s accent; or any accent for that matter. They were spoken at an even tone in a pace that was not fast or slow. The very sound caused shivers up and down my spine (and my nose!) that only stopped when it ceased to speak.

Alright, I’m officially disturbed. It was time to speak up now, lest the voice continued. "Look, I'll save you some time and effort,” I began, filling my voice with honey, “Just let me out of this and I'll tell you everything I know. Then I'll go about my merry way and never set foot onto this land again. You can claim I died during a disembowelment or something. Then you can call it a day and go home to a nice meal, a warm bed, and maybe even a pair of opened legs.” I allowed a smile to slowly develop, although doing so reminded me of the nostrils that were beginning to flare slightly. “Everybody wins."

"Perhaps ‘everybody wins’, but there will always be a party that wins more than the others." It was the right one who answered in the exact same voice. It was here that I realized the voice didn’t even echo around the room like mine had. “How would we even know that things you say are the truth?” I kept my smile in place even as my proposal was disregarded. Before I could try anything else the voice continued, “Besides information is not our main concern. We have plenty of others that we can get that from. And we know their information will be accurate.” My smile slowly fell as any chance of negotiating was cast to the side. “We have already tracked down the underground pit your group called a base while hiding in this region. We found a variety of items with ancient crests, family mottos, and signatures to give us an idea of the general direction your crusade was headed. It was easy to find your homeland once the others told the stories of how they acquired these trinkets.”

I couldn’t have stopped my eyes from rolling if I tried. I knew their little hobby of collecting ‘trophies’ was going to get those prideful idiots was trouble waiting to happen. The small amount of respect for them I had officially died in that moment. “Yes, clearly their thinking abilities could have used a little more exercise.” Here the figures paused and slowly shook their heads side to side before the hoods faced straight down; as if mourning the brains that had so much potential. A moment of silence followed before their heads lifted and the monologue continued.

“You, on the other hand, seem to have your own agenda. According to the former leader, you randomly wandered into their northern base indifferent to the occupants and the weapons they held. You had pouches of coins, baskets of bread, and bottles of wine. You demanded safe travel with them and in return lead then through a safe passage out of the city. In the five years you have been with them, you told them nothing that hinted at your identity or birthplace. Your body holds no distinct markings or piercings, your tongue is fluent in multiple languages, and your fellow thieves even claim you used a different accent for every city they spend time in. You are a treasure chest waiting to be opened and have its riches examined. And now that we are finished with our other duties, there will be no interruptions as we get to work.” The human impersonators walked behind me and grabbed me from both sides onto my upper arm. I heard a loud click and felt my ankles become unhooked, although nothing was done about the chains attaching my wrists to them. Suddenly, I was lifted up and carried through the doorway without my knees touching the floor even for a second. I was lead down a hallway for no more than a minute before a hard left revealed a solid wooden door. The hood on the right produced a key from…somewhere and a loud ‘click’ followed a twisting wrist before the door opened.

The room inside was not so different than the area I woke up in. The only thing of interest was a contraption in the center of the room. It looked like one of the stocks commonly used on criminals on top a large wooden platform in the center of the room. Funny, I thought those were becoming unpopular. Although, this particular type of stocks was unusual for it only had one large hole in the center. As I was dragged closer to it, I could see there were larges holes near the bottom of the wooden legs. There was also a small pole about a foot long extending upwards; its wood was lighter and still in good condition compared to the dark, rotting wood that made up the stocks it was attached to. I was set on the floor while one of the hooded figures walked forward and unlashed the lock on the side to open the top half. Soon I was lifted up again to be dragged over to the wooden platform, where I was released and soon felt a chain added to my ankles effectively securing me to the base. Something heavy was suddenly placed around me and the smell of thick leather filled my already irritated nose. The leather secured my arms to my torso from my shoulders to my wrists and some shininess at the corners of my eyes drew my attention to a large metal ring on both sides next to my elbow. One hooded figure (I’ve given up trying to keep tabs on them) took a thick piece of rope and ran it through the ring on my left, around my back, and into the right side's ring. It then pushed each end through a hole in the stock's legs. The ends were pulled until I was forced to lean down into the hole. The other figure then grabbed my head and gently pulled forward until my neck was within the bottom curve. With one hand they kept my head down as the top was brought down. I heard the lock click into place before the force on my head was lifted and the figure stood up. The second hooded figure pulled the ropes again until there was only the barest hint of slack. He tied a knot on both ends to prevent the rope from slipping and then tied those ends together, effectively securing me to the stock.

The hooded figure stood up and walked back against the wall. The next one stepped forward again, and in their hands was an odd double-hook with thin but strong looking string attached. The hooks themselves did not end in a sharp point, but created arched ‘plates’ at the end by swirling towards the center with a smooth, round end. Before I became confused a hand reached up and used the index finger to press the tip of my nose up. The motion actually somewhat soothed the tingling that still lined my nostrils, but I didn’t get much time to be relieved. Gently, the hooks were inserted inside each nostril and the string was pulled towards the top out of my head. I could feel the string shift and vibrate as it became secured before the figure moved their hands out of the way and back down to their sides. The string made my head tilt slightly back so the back of my head completely rested against the stocks, the strange shape of hooks allowed them to stay secured without causing pain. In fact, I wasn't feeling any sort of pain anywhere. The position was certainly not comfortable, but it was tolerable. Besides, what could they possibly do to me with that piece of leather covering most of my body? The sound of heavy footsteps brought me back. Opening my eyes revealed the two hooded figures standing in front of me.

"Comfortable?" If it wasn’t for the monotone quality that word could have passed for sarcasm. "Good." It’s both disturbing and aggravating that I could no longer tell which one is speaking. In the end, it didn’t matter because both stepped forward until they were about a foot away. Then they each took one hand and reached deeply into the opposite sleeve. It was like a mirrored image: The hood on the left reached for its right while the other reached or its left. Slowly they began to pull something out; something obviously large and long. A dagger for my throat? A rope for my neck? My heart pounded in my ears as I thought of the possibilities.

But it was not a dagger, a rope, or any other lethal device I’ve come across. From the depths of their sleeves came something that by all logic did not belong in a dungeon.

It was a feather. A large, cyan feather with a light gray tint about a foot from the end of the quill to the tip. The stem held in their fingers was a about two inches long before it transitioned into the fluffy bristles that made up the main body. From there it slowly tapered into a small fine point aimed at the ceiling.

The itch intensified.

[Akahana]

Shit I am so into this I hope there is more soon!! I really like that our main character is whoever we want them to be

[HPG]

OMG me too.

[dragonko]

Ah, I so badly want this to continue!!!!

[Lonewolf]

Ooo I like this so far

[Care]

This looke very very promising !!

[Darkenedstar14]

Back again! Life happened, so I had to take care of stuff involving that. Here's the next part for all you wonderful people!

Also, if anyone is interested in being a beta/proofreader, let me know. I would hate to have a bunch of mistakes stop readers from enjoying this.

Previously:

But it was not a dagger, a rope, or any other lethal device Ive come across. From the depths of their sleeves came something that by all logic did not belong in a dungeon.

It was a feather. A large, cyan feather with a light gray tint about a foot from the end of the quill to the tip. The stem held in their fingers was a about two inches long before it transitioned into the fluffy bristles that made up the main body. From there it slowly tapered into a small fine point aimed at the ceiling.

The itch intensified.

And so did my confusion.

I kneeled before them with narrowed eyes and scrunched brows, trying to figure out what game they were playing at. Was this some kind of mind trick? Were they trying to confuse me? Because its working. Reading their faces did nothing to help since there was none to be seen! The only thing that quickly came to my mind was tickle torture. My earlier years were frequently spent witnessing it happening to the unfortunate occupants of the stocks in the center of the town square. Other kids took feathers, small twigs, and handfuls of ants and would have the time of their lives playing with those exposed feet. Adults, on the other hand, seemed to prefer just using their fingertips, nails, and the occasional horse brush. The criminals would laugh, sob, or plead for hours on end until they mercifully passed out. I never gave much thought about the activity during my youth; I never found it to be that entertaining. My path to adulthood included learning that this was one of the more merciful things that could ever happen while being stuck in that position.

Nevertheless, the idea of using this tactic seems rather...mild compared to the various other horrors that could take place here. Not to mention the fact that I have never heard of such a thing ever happening in any of the towns around here. The farther away I moved from my origins, the less common this event became anywhere else. Eventually, it came to the point of where the common citizen would only hear of such things from tales of travels beyond the city limits. Still, there was nothing in the room to contradict the idea. No racks of weapons lined the stone walls. No other torturous contraptions filled the empty spaces. Just little ol me, these weird constricting restraints, and the two hooded oddballs still holding feathers in their hands.

Granted they were beautiful feathers, certainly not from any bird around here. Black crows, white doves, brown sparrows, even red robins could occasionally be seen throughout these lands. Yet I have never seen any bird with blue coating its form. No other location on my journey gave any hint of this shade. No explorer in any city's most popular tavern ever described such a creature. This seems like the type of thing a person would talk about or even keep records of. I remember a passage from a series of journals I grabbed during one of our raids that described a large exotic bird called a 'peacock.' The feathers were said to be as long as a man's arm and the bristles covered a stretched hand from thumb to pinky. Each plume was graced with various shades of blues, greens, and a hint or two of purple. Aristocrats would eagerly part with bags full of gold just to get a glimpse of such a creature. Some would hand over entire inheritance so that they could own one for themselves!

Yet this feather did not match the exact descriptions I've read. It wasnt nearly that long or wide and there were no greens or purples in sight. If it did come from a magnificent creature, I doubt the owner would ever allow it to get so filthy. Unless the original owner also had a night or two inside this wonderful place. In which case, the feather was probably the least of their concerns.

"Too stunned to speak?" Oops, guess I was a little too deep in my own head. Sort of forgot about those two. And their abnormal voices. Cue the shivers along my spine (and my nose, goddamn it).

"Nope." I just really did not want to make conversation with these...things. Unfortunately, I needed answers and unlike most interrogators, they didnt seem to enjoy a good monologue. Perhaps you could be so kind as to enlighten me as to the purpose of those? The position my nose was forced into caused some distortion to my voice; a little higher than it naturally was. Of course by now my nose had begun to itch again, but I kept my focus on the figures before me.

"Yes, they are interesting aren't they?" The one on my left began, twirling the stem slowly in its fingers. "They come from a rare exotic bird on an island down south far beyond our borders. Our king's grandfather, Alastair the XIV, was an adventurer whom was found of bringing souvenirs back with him. Weapons for display, books for the library, jewelry for the consorts, anything was fair game for him. It was not the objects themselves that were important, but the stories behind them that fascinated him. The legends around here mostly consist of tales about his travels long ago and the mementos he collected. However, there is still one story that everyone but our oldest elders has completely forgotten.

"During his adolescence, Alastair wanted to understand the world outside the castle walls. So the prince joined with a group of merchants to discover new countries and trade routes. As they traveled downward, they eventually came across a small island lush with strange vegetation. In the center of the island was a series of huts occupied by a large tribe. The after some shaky introductions, the merchants and tribesmen were soon trading supplies. The tribes leader, Chief Eibhear, had previous experience with outsiders and was able to converse rather easily with them all. After assuring him they would not cause any trouble, He allowed the visitors to stay and rest for a while. Later that night, the crew got the opportunity to witness the tribes most important ceremony.

"The island, while huge, had a very small human population outside of the tribe. Because of this, most of the skills the tribesmen had to learn focused on hunting for food. These hunters were not simply trained in skills to catch the prey, but to master the art of patience and concentration. Before the young men officially be called hunters, they had to pass one last test. Went sunset began, the men would line up in a circle with their backs to the fire. Heads high facing forward, hands behind their backs, and feet apart in silence. A tribal woman (usually their potential mates) stood in front of each male holding two of these same feathers. They come from large birds the natives called macaws. When given the signal, the women would use those feathers to tickle and tease the noses until the men knew nothing but the desire to sneeze. Movement and speech were forbidden until the leader declared it over; usually when the sun completely disappeared. If they violated the rules, then they failed and could not try the ritual again until a fortnight had passed. According to Alastair's log, eight men participated in this ceremony. Only one passed.

"The merchants stayed on that for about three months gathering and trading new riches. When it came time to leave, Alastair asked if he could have a few of the feathers. The birds flew aplenty on the island and the tribe was certainly in no danger of running low soon. Chief Eibhear said he would allow it, but he had one condition: The prince had to pass the test, too. Now the young man didn't have any allergies and his nose was not terribly sensitive, so he saw no reason to refuse. Fortunately, the next ceremony happened to be that very night. And so with the Chiefs blessing, he joined twelve tribesmen and submitted to the feathers touch. His journal described how he never felt his nose itch so much in his life. How every centimeter of his nose burned despite the feathers gentle caress. Tingles coated the inside and outside of the unfortunate appendage. He could not imagine continuing this for a few minutes let alone a few hours. The chiefs eldest daughter, Agrona, controlled the feather and was not making it easier. She stroked the septum, teased the nostril rings, twirled inside the caves, and scratched at that irresistible sensitive spot. It took all his will power to not completely surrender to the sensations and the desire his body was demanding.

"Finally, the sun disappeared and so did the feather. Alastair and 1 other male had passed this time. However, there was still a lingering problem: the feather itself had left his nose alone, but the itch it caused did not. No matter how much he rubbed he could not make the itch go away. His nose still twitched like a rabbit's and his eyes so clouded with tears he could barely see. He would have given his very soul to make the itching stop. Agrona (eventually) took pity on him and, holding his head still, pushed the feather's quill inside and gently scratched on top his tickle zone. He described the resulting sneeze as pure ecstasy. Chief Eibhear was simply impressed that the young prince actually followed through with the deal. The prince later returned to the castle with new trade route, amazing stories, and seven barrels full of macaw feathers.

"Soon after that journey, Alastair was crowned king and war broke out all over the lands. Unfortunately, we were the prime targets. As grand as our military was, enemies coming from all sides made our numbers and power stretch much too thin. A year passed and the situation had not improved. The countrys prisons and our dungeons were soon filled with soldiers too loyal to reveal any information. Many sleepless nights were spent trying to figure out what to do to turn the war to our favor. One night, he and one consort wandered the castle until the pair came upon his trophy room. Hoping to distract him, his companion asked for the story behind the strangely light barrels in the corner. Suddenly, Alastair remembered the tribal ceremony and the anguish he felt in those couple of hours. A few minutes later, his servants moved the barrels to the dungeons and the masters were trained in a form of torture. It took maybe two days before we had more than enough information to take everybody down. When all was said and done, the king allowed the prisoners to transport back as disgraces to their nations."

Here they paused in their speech and I could see their hoods move slightly downward. I suspect they're surprised that I didn't interrupt. After absorbing everything, I only had this to say: "So by an insane amount of luck, your kingdom won because of a few weak fools. Im sure it was great entertainment for all who contributed to your victory. However, you seem like logical...people. So what do I need I need to say so we wont have to go through this ridiculous process? The leaders motivations for this campaign? The locations of the rest of their ill-gotten loot? Where their concubines wait for them each night? Please, give me a clue so we can help each other out." The sooner I get out of here the sooner I can do something about the tingles along my nose.

"If you're going to bargain with someone, it would be wise to offer things they don't already have." Great Gods, I hate these things. At least I know for sure it was the right one that spoke. "I believe Im repeating myself when I say we already have information on all of that. You are our sole concern at this time. Your former cohorts, and any information you have about them, are of no use to us."

"Now, we are already behind schedule and cannot have any further delays. Please hold your tongue until after you tortured. Thank you."

Edited September 16, 2015 by Darkenedstar14

[Akahana]

God dammit suck a fucking tease I trusted yooooooooooouuuu

Edited September 17, 2015 by Akahana

[Akahana]

I hope you didn't take that in a bad way I love this story and hope you continue it

[HPG]

Please hold your tongue until after you're tortured is hilarious. I do hope you continue.

[Darkenedstar14]

Thanks for all the responses! I promise I have not forgotten or abandoned this. My schoolwork is increasing and life keeps trying to make everything unnecessarily difficult. Luckily, I'm almost finished with the third part and should have it up very soon.

Akahana: I found your comment to be quite humorous! No offence taken.

[Akahana]

<3

[dragonko]

Please please please continue this!! I love it so much!

[Sneeze999]

Holy.....CRAP!!!!!! This is now my favourite story on here!!!! The descriptions, the detail, the length of each part, the teasing!! I love it all!!! I cannot WAIT for the next part!! I want this to continue FOREVER!!!

[Darkenedstar14]

"I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!"

Thank you all you wonderful people for your responses, encouragement, and patience! As promised the next "chapter!"

Previously:

“If you’re going to bargain with someone, it would be wise to offer things they don’t already have.” Great Gods, I hate these things. At least I know it was the right one that spoke. “I believe I’m repeating myself when I say we already have information on all of that. You are our sole concern at this time. Your former cohorts, and any information you have about them, are of no use to us.

“Now, we are already behind schedule and cannot have any further delays. Please hold your tongue until after you tortured. Thank you.”

I exhaled sharply, feeling my nostrils’ restrained twitching as air rushed out. Surely this was just a dream, a disturbingly ridiculous dream. A figment of my imagination produced by the injuries I’ve sustained in the battle. When I awake I will either be alone in my original cell or at the hidden base ignoring my companions’ complaints of splitting headaches, sore muscles, and bruised genitals. Maybe I can finally stop the tingling in my nose! Alas, the itching, the leather’s weight, and the hooks’ tugging on my nostrils, only serve to reinforce the fact that this was reality. This was not a senseless delusion to eventually escape from. I cannot be anywhere else other than this room participating in this madness induced by these maroon-hued demons.

Speaking of demons, the right one leisurely walked until it stood about a couple inches away from me. The final step, however, did not sound like a boot upon stone. My gaze traveled downward until it reached the edge of the figure’s robes. Just poking out from underneath was a hint of a piece of wood; probably from a birch tree if the shade is anything to go by. The piece tilted a slight angle upward towards me and did not seem to fit well into the stone floor. It slowly sank down as if being pushed and a sound resembling chains knocking together could be heard. Pressure pushing against my knees alerted me to the sudden rising of the wooden platform. A light bite on my tongue prevented a shout from escaping my throat. The restraints securing me to the wood were the only reason I didn’t fall off of the damn thing! The process was over just as it began and I found my eyes to (in theory) be level with the ones inside the hood. Not that it mattered since the only thing I could clearly see was blackness.

“Thank you for not screaming during the momentary adjustment. It was comical the first time, but it does get rather annoying after a few years.”

Must…resist…urge…to…snark…

Without waiting for a response, the hooded thing brought up the feather again (when it disappeared I cannot recall). The cyan plume was now so close I could make out the individual bristles that made up the main body. I realize that the overall feather was a bit stiffer than I initially believed, although it still seemed quite soft. The amount of dust that encrusted all those bristles was also not as great as theorized. I guess they did occasionally take decent care of these things. Said thing (and the other thing) moved even closer until finally contact was made. Although it wasn’t much contact really, just the tip of the instrument. That tip just rested there on center of my septum. It felt very much like a gnat just decided to settle there. After what seemed like ages, I finally felt movement from the edge of my nose to that space just above my lip. Up and down the tip went in a slow yet steady pace. A rhythm that could have been soothing if not for the irritation it caused. When my nostrils started to continuously twitch, the tip of the fluffy instrument traced the edges in a figure eight motion. A hint of ancient dust could be detected by my senses. I could feel a few of the particles enter and teasingly latch onto the nasal walls. Like flickering flames dancing along the edge, slowly inching their way farther inside.

The plume then slowly, tantalizingly entered barely a centimeter passed the rim and traced the inside curve. I inhaled sharply, surprised by the intensity of the tickle. A trail of them began to race around and around like a horse on a track. Each completed lap caused a shiver to run through my body. Rings of itchiness soon cultivated as these motions continued at an even pace. My nose barely had room to quiver due to the abnormal stretch. The inner walls of my nose were pulsing, as if trying to make the itch flare up so it could finally get some release. A particularly strong pulse made me take a surprised gasp. The hoods didn't acknowledge it or stop the feather's ministrations. Soon I hitched again, the leather band around me became very constricting as my chest tried to expand. "Hah...hah...hah..." They were just small, hardly audible breaths but it was enough for the desire to sneeze to become obvious. Perhaps even too obvious, given that the motions stopped without warning and the feather was quickly pulled out of my nose. My hitching had ceased, but the itch had not followed the example. The prickles still smothering the nasal passages were a little too strong for a bit of dust to cause.

"Excellent. The appendage is very quick to respond to stimulus.”

The figure sheathed their feather inside its sleeve before stepped backward as its comrade moved to replace it. The second one stopped and the hood tilted in various directions, as if I was some subject for study. A growl rumbled in my throat as I waited for my hypersensitive nose, and my temper, to calm down. Was it not enough that I was forced to go along with this? Was it necessary these creatures to comment on everything? Was it required for them to say it aloud?

"Indeed. And a most beautiful shade of pink has developed along the outside.”

Apparently it was. Eyes closed, I focused on breathing deeply. Breathe in and breathe out. Inhale and exhale and repeat. Soon the tingling tormenting my nose began to fade into the distant parts inside my mind. Okay, fine, whatever, let them entertain themselves. If their so-called local legend is based on a historical truth, then that means they engaged in this activity for… years. (Decades? Centuries? How old were these beings?!) Chances are they will eventually get bored of this and retire for the evening. Maybe when they leave I can think of…

“Haahaa-sniff-tch!!!”

The feather’s barbs assaulted the entrance to my sinuses. The cyan instrument was turned on its side, enabling both rims and the inside spaces to undergo the tickly caresses. No millimeter of the nostrils was spared and the bristles did a great job of fanning the inside surface. This treatment last for no more than five seconds and stopped just as quickly. I blink rapidly as my brain tried to process what just happened.

"Terribly sorry, I will admit that was quite unfair. However, we cannot have you wasting time being distracted when we already have so little of it."

Have I mentioned how much I hate these fiends yet?!

The other hood started his part right away, not even wasting time teasing the outside. The tip was inside the left cavity, only slightly father then where his partner started his relentless circles. The hand began to lift the stem up and down, creating waves along the plume that brushed up and down against the nasal walls as it slowly moved inward. The top and bottom surfaces were touched by the tip as the wave came to an end. A tiny prickle ignited each time it touched the surface. The waves traveled deeper inside at a slow but steady pace. It was these motions that made me aware once again of the dust coating the instrument. I also became conscious of the tears being shed as more dust transferred from the feather to the vulnerable walls. Lord knows how long those tears had been falling before I took notice. The hooded interrogator continued weaving his feather deeper into the sensitive caves. My nostrils strained against the hooks’ hold as they flared out to allow the quill even more access . I could feel a bit of mucus beginning to develop in an attempt to soothe the irritated passage.

Then by some miracle, my chest heaved. “Huh.” And again, “Hehuh!” And again, “Ha-HECH!” Soon my breaths matched the pace established by the landing tip of the plume as the wave ended. Every touch on the bottom surface was followed a tickly pulse accompanied by a hitch. Touch. Tickle. "Hach!" This ironically soothing rhythm likely continued for a couple of minutes before the great inhales caused my chest to fight with the constricting leather once more. Hitches became gasps as tears flowed down my cheeks. My nose began to feel clogged with all the mucus trying to cleanse the irritated walls. The bristles continued brushing against the tiny nose hairs as it switched up and down. “Hech…hha-hah…HET-CHE…!”

A sudden feeling of gentle pressure settled against my septum. Unprepared, I stiffened and looked down to find something black, smooth, and smelling of warm leather. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was a gloved finger. My eyes stayed crossed as I waited for it to do something, but it just rested there under my nose. One second, two seconds, three seconds…the finger stayed until about ten seconds passed. When it finally left its position, I released a breath I didn't even know I held. Unfortunately, whatever build-up I had going earlier had disappeared with that same exhale. So here was me and my nose, still itching from the feather’s delicate teasing and the chance of a release stolen away.

“There are certainly some delightfully sensitive nerves inhabiting the inside of this nose.”

Deep breaths! In and out… in and out…in and out… Don’t say anything stupid that could give them an excuse to continue. Don’t focus on the persisting itching surrounding the nose. Don’t worry about the trembling nostrils leaking mucus. Just think of a way to get out of this madness.

“Yes, I do believe we established how responsive they were earlier.” I absolutely despised how the clogging mucus affected my voice. It was bad enough with the hooks stretching my nostrils far more than they should be. “Now that we have finished our entertainment, perhaps we can move on to more important matters-”

“I do not recall saying we were finished here. We still have quite a ways to go before we reach the end. Besides, what could be more important than what we are doing right now?”

Damn these creatures! Damn those feathers! Damn this itch!

Edited September 30, 2015 by Darkenedstar14

[Akahana]

God I love this!! I am so curious about those creatures. What are they? What are they after? Why is this their method of interrogation? So many questions~

[Sneeze999]

And it just keeps getting better and better!!! Incredible chapter!! You really know how to keeps us all on the edge of our seats and wanting more more MORE!!

[HPG]

Must…resist…urge…to…snark…

Me always.

It was great as always.

[Shadestrike]

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ITS AWESOME!

I could be a beta-reader if you want. I've never done it before, but I read like a lot and might have some extra time.

[Darkenedstar14]

I'm back, everyone! Okay, this "chapter" ended up being almost three times longer than I planned. I just kept writing and writing and writing...and I eventually realized I had to break this apart or it would be very overwhelming. Hence why the ending may seem so sudden compared to previous ones.

Akahana: The interrogators were not a major focus to me when I started this. Now they've evolved to the point that I may need to explain more about them...

Shadestrike: Thank you for volunteering! This series will be coming to a close soon, but I could still use soon help. Let me know how your schedule is and we might work something out.

On with the show!

Previously:

“I do not recall ever saying we were finished here. We still have quite a ways to go before we reach the end. Besides, what could be more important than what we are doing right now?”

Damn these creatures! Damn those feathers! Damn this itch!

Great Gods, why does this itch so much?! Shouldn’t the sensations be fading out by now? Reminds me of the time my comrades and I broke into an ancient family’s tomb a couple years ago. A couple weeks worth of work for nothing more than some pieces of cheap jewelry and noses full of dust and loose dirt. At least this time it’s in a somewhat ‘controlled’ section. Mostly just my quivering nostrils and just a little bit past the inflamed entrance. Merciless tingling every time I inhale, but transitions into a relentless prickling sensation with each exhale. Any attempts to wriggle my nose were hindered by the stretching caused by the blunt hooks. If I could have one arm free for a moment that would be wonderful. Or maybe even just having all of me out of these bounds, which would be fantastic.

Unfortunately, escaping out of this position was not going to happen without some outside assistance. Despite its worn-down appearance, the leather band was just too thick to simply break with a bit of force from the inside. If this thing could still constrict around my chest during my great build-up without being in danger of snapping, then there was no way I could even pull a single arm out. The rope passing through the hooks only reinforced this by keeping the leather against me at all times without slipping from its ideal position. Not to mention the heavy cuffs still around my wrists and the broad chain connecting them to the ones on my ankles. Any movement from those made a hell lot of noise and no doubt a sudden clang of a cuff dropping would be noticed immediately. In other words, I’m stuck until these human impersonators decide they’re finished with me. Lord knows how long that’s…

“Hatch – cha -sniff! IS DAT NECESSARY?!” The question was out of my mouth before I could fully process it. Still, soft barbs brushing my already clogged nose was the last thing I needed right now.

“Yes. We have already warned you about being distracted and yet you continue to be so.”

My rebuttal and any remaining thoughts were cut off by a sudden shape on the edge of my vision. It was the quill, tapered to a slight point for writing, heading towards my nose. Eyes wide, I reflexively tried to pull my head away from the unexpected sight. The stiff wood surrounding my head was suddenly remembered when a large jolt of pain formed in the back of my skull. My vision blurred as the throbbing expanded beyond the original tender spot. Yet again the hooks still held their place inside my nostrils, expanding their size even more resulting in slight twinge when tugged. The tears that slid down my face were, for once, not due to my irritated nasal cavities.

“Knocking yourself unconscious will not destroy our objective, only increase the time it takes to accomplish it.”

I chose not to dignify that statement with a response; I doubt they actually wanted one anyway. The hooded figure raised the sleeved arm that didn’t have a feather in hand and reached for the back of my head. My desire to push against the intruding appendage was quickly extinguished when I felt five spots being touched by things far too pointy to be fingers within the sleeve. Those…digits began to spread outward until something flat, smooth, and cold gently settled on the injured zone. Soon that cold chill began to increase in intensity until it completely overwhelmed the pained that previously settled. It was maybe two seconds before the weight of its…palm was removed and with it the chill. As the chill faded, I realized the pain had also disappeared. There wasn’t even a slight sting leftover!

“There. Now there’s one less distraction to hinder our progress.”

What the Hell…? What just…? How did…? “Wha-aah!”

The feather’s stem was in my face again; inside my nose to be exact. It’s not touching anything and it’s not even that far deep inside yet. Still, there is something in my nose that obviously does not belong there. And I would greatly appreciate it if it was removed! A sudden ‘prick’ sensation made me cross my eyes to look at my nose. The tip of the quill was now touching the inner wall of my left nostril. Then the point began to slowly move up towards the back with only the barest hint of pressure. The pressure was constant as it moved; never pushing too hard or too soft. Enough pressure to make my nerves feel like they were burning as scratching continued. Up towards the very back where nerves rarely receive stimulus before switching downward approaching the already trembling rims. Shivers ran up my spine with each change in direction.

“Gheaah...hah-hah…sniff -etch-hih…!” I couldn’t even consider holding in the sounds stolen from my throat. My concentration was on the current activities irritating my nose. Instinct screamed at me to scrunch my face and pull away, but I’ve already seen how that would work out. I guess simply moving up and down was becoming too boring for them because those motions suddenly changed into circles traveling all around. No section of the inner wall was missed as the rings moved clockwise and counter-clockwise in order to catch every ticklish nerve. Tears steadily flowed down my face as my nose became consumed by this new itch.

HEH…GHEEHH…HI-HICH...SNIFF…HAH-HAH… My chest was starting to hurt from the workout it’s endured since we begun. The leather still surrounding me only seemed to make it worse; adding its own pressure to compete against that of my lungs. All this heaving and hitching with no relief in sight is starting to take its toll. But soon, very soon, there will be. There’s something these hooded fiends seemed to have forgotten as they continued their little game. Eventually they’re going to tease that one sensitive spot that all noses have. With all the previous attempts, there’s no way the resulting sneeze would be stopped. With the feather’s stalk still scratching at the walls it’s only…

“HETCH!”

Finally. Relief. Release. An end to this madness.

“Haaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh…”

The smell of warm leather briefly penetrated my nose again before that same hand pinched the nostrils together. How in the Hell this was possible with the hooks in the way I have no idea! All I knew was once again my build-up was destroyed and left with the next huge exhale. The glove appendage moved away and with the flick of the wrist the feather slid back down into the palm. The figure raised the arm again to bring the cyan plume to my face. No, no,no,no,no…

DING-DONG!

Damn, I can’t even jump properly in these restraints. That sounded like one of those old church bells that ring at every hour to signal the masses. Yet this is the first I’ve heard them since I awoke. I still don’t know what time it is, but surely we’ve been here for more than an hour?

DING-DONG!

The figure still standing in front of me let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sigh as the feather-holding hand dropped down to be hidden by the sleeve. “Alas, our mission must be put on hold for the time being.” The opposite arm (the one that touched my head earlier) reached up and the string between my eyes twitched and vibrated before slowly becoming slack. The hooks were swiftly taken out of my nose, allowing it full reign to wriggle and writhe at much as it pleased.

“Indeed. Perhaps we should reevaluate our scheduled time of completion.” The second one at some point came up and quickly undid the rope around my torso before moving onto the actual leather band. With the leather absorbing most of my body heat, it was quite shocking to suddenly feel the cold air of the dungeon at full force. I heard rattling from the chains behind me as my ankles became unhooked from the platform.

DING-DONG!

“No need. We are not that far behind yet.” The last thing to go was the stockade top keeping my head in place. Once unlocked and lifted, my head was out of the stock hole and I felt myself being lifted via my arms like before by the maroon demons. Meanwhile, my mind drifted elsewhere and I could hardly focus on what was happening around me. The only thing I knew was that my nose tickled a lot and I could still do nothing about it. The nasal passages were pulsing with tingling flares. The overflow of mucus now dribbling out of them did nothing to help ease the sensations.

DING-DONG!

The sounds of the bell and a door opening brought me back to reality a little too late. I had no idea where we were or how we got here. I knew instantly this was not the room I woke up in, however. There were no torches to provide light, only the large door we walked through and a few high windows allowing moonlight to enter. Chains and shackles were also nowhere to be seen, although I’m certain there’s some nearby. And there was a small, thin mattress was sitting there against the wall. Being moved closer to it revealed that a pillow and a large thin blanket were nearby. All three of these items look quite clean, too. Very odd considering this was a dungeon.

DING-DONG!

The hooded things placed me on the mattress (which turned out to be filled with straw), with the one on my right still holding me while the left one shuffled about. The familiar sound of rattling chains filled the air before I felt at tug on one of my ankle right cuff. The metal between the two ankle cuffs was taken away and the metal between the wrist cuffs follow suit. Before I could process what happened, the hooded one holding me let go and pushed me into the mattress. I quickly tried to reposition myself without getting tangled in the chain. In that short length of time the two figures somehow made their way back to the doorway.

DING-DONG!

“Unfortunately, we must pause for the time being. I suggest you use this unforeseen break to do something productive.”

I’m tied to a wall with a mattress nearby. I have a pretty good idea of what I’m expected to do.

“We will return in a while to continue on with our mission.” These were the last words I heard before a sleeve reached towards the handle and pulled the door towards them. Their figures soon disappeared behind the door, along with the only real source of light. The moonlight offered enough for me to finish untangling myself, but not much else.

DING-DONG!

The church bell was the only noise I could hear besides my own breathing and sniffles. Not even the sound of a rat’s scurrying feet broke the air. The air itself was also clear of any unpleasant scents, just like my original cell. Ground felt ice cold, but dry with no hint of fluids of any sort. The straw-stuffed mattress was as comfortable as one could expect. Yet it was clearly well cared for considering it had no odd stains or foreign odors. The chain attached to my ankle allowed me more than enough room to move around the mattress. Although there was still a small chain between my ankles and another between my wrists, but I didn’t really expect them to do anything about those. At least the bonding chains weren’t connected to each other anymore.

DING-DONG!

Okay, so I got some limited time alone away from Them and their unnaturalness. I have no idea exactly how much time I have, or even what time it is now! But I can push all of that aside and focus on more important matters. Like this itch in my nose that still hasn’t left yet!

DING-DONG!

[Akahana]

Oooooohhhhh. So excited I fucking love this!!

[HPG]

Love it.

[Darkenedstar14]

What? Another chapter so soon?! Well, the last one had to be broken up. So this is more like 'Part 2.'

Previously:

Okay, so I got some limited time alone away from Them and their unnaturalness. I have no idea exactly how much time I have, or even what time it is now! But I can push all of that aside and focus on more important matters. Like this itch in my nose that still hasn’t left yet!

DING-DONG!

I rubbed all over my nose, relishing in the fact that I was actually able to do so. After a minute or two I let my hand drop and fell back onto the straw-filled mattress. Upon landing, the itch that plagued me before came back full force. I pinched my nostrils together with my thumb and ring finger, using the two in between to rub the bridge. Two minutes later my hand dropped to the mattress again. Barely three seconds passed before the itch returned even worse than before. I sat up so both hands could participate now, one on each side, rubbing up and down to get some sort of relief. I don’t even know how long I sat there just rubbing every centimeter of my nose to chase away the phantom tickles. When I finally did stop, I felt nothing more than the intensive heat from the constant friction. My hands ran through my hair before lacing together behind my head as I sighed and went back to lying down on the mattress.

And then the itch returned.

DING-DONG!

Goddamn it! Alright, clearly this was not working. I’m just not going to focus on it and get some sleep while I have the chance. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept in an uncomfortable state. At least they had the decency to provide a pillow and blanket; clean ones at that. Of course the pillow’s contents were far too flimsy and the blanket a bit scratchy from poor quality, but hell, it was better than nothing! My eyes soon grew heavy as I sunk deeper into the straw mattress. The urge to smother my hand into my face was still lurking. Turning onto my left side, I slid my left hand underneath the pillow and gripped the opposite edge of the mattress with my right. I curled into myself, hoping to conserve as much body heat as I could under the small blanket (although only the floor was cold at that point). My irritated nose continued to wriggle as the sounds of the church bell began to fade.

DING-DONG!

Itchy. So itchy.

How long does it take for a few tingles to fade away? It feels like it’s been hours since I was in that room held in those weird stocks. Those demons didn’t even do much with the feathers during that time. Just the tip teasing the nerves as it traced the nostrils. Just the soft bristles tickling the nasal passage as it brushed against the tiny hairs inside. Just the tapered quill scratching a few rings onto the inside wall as the convulsions caused by my nose worsened. Just of this was enough to make my nose tremble with need, but apparently not worthy of a great sneeze. All things considered, it could have been a lot worse. So why does this persistent tingle insist on staying?

Itchy. So itchy.

They’re back. The feathers are just floating right in front of me. Two glowing blue forms against the darkness. Eventually, the left one travels toward the nostril across from it and pushes the stiffened tip just inside to circle the edge of the walls. Around and around it moves torturing the nerves as it goes. When allergic tears begin to fall from my eyes it pulls out to be replaced by the other on the right. This one waves through the opposite entrance until about halfway while creating waves within the ticklish passage. Up and down it goes as the barbs paint prickles all over the place. The second plume only leaves when my stream of tears becomes a river. The first is back in position teasing the nostrils again for a while before switching so the second can torment its side.

Itchy. So itchy.

Soon they traded sides; now the right rim felt the ticklish circles and the left cavity is subjected to the irritating waves. And so it continues in this cycle, switching sides over and over with only the barest hint of a break in between. Soon there was absolutely no break at all. When one stopped their ministrations the other begins their task immediately. The sensations begin to overlap, as if both these activities are occurring at the same time. The mucus leaking out of the flaring rims does nothing to soothe my hypersensitive nose. The increased flow from the river of tears doesn’t gather any mercy either. These feathers just continue on teasing, tickling, and torturing the overactive nerves.

Itchy. So itchy.

Suddenly they stop and pull away, leaving me to shiver and sigh in relief. My break, however, was over just after it began when the feathers turned so their quills faced me. Like before, I could not move my head to escape this inevitable fate. Those stems moved slowly until they were inserted into the passages. I felt them press gently against the inner walls before the scratching started. One would up and down from the neglected back to the over-stimulated rims. The other created tickly circles all around, changing directions every now and then. After a bit they would switch methods so the other side could experience the difference between the agonizing prickles. By now I was weeping, this was too much for my abused nose to handle.

Itchy. So itchy.

I just need a break. Let my convulsing nose have a second to settle down. The nostrils need time to turn their shudders into shivers. The nasal walls are still pulsing from all the teasing they’ve endured. Give the dripping mucus a chance to soothe the irritation away. My sneezy spot as been grazed so many times it’s overloaded with irrepressible sensations. Allow the tears to slow their flow and dry up. These feathers’ bristles are too soft, their methods remain too gentle, and the movements have yet to lose their precision. They need to go away for little while so I do what my body demands. Please give me a moment for a brief, blissful sneeze so this merciless torture can just stop.

Please.

Itchy. So itchy.

After Lord knows how long, I awoke with the itch that plagued my nose agonizingly worse than before. I was also in a completely different position; now my head was at the opposite end of the mattress with no pillow underneath. Hoping to distract myself from my continuous problem, I sat up and felt around. Eventually, my hand made contact with the pillow that now bore tear stains and mucus stains (wonderful). Discarding the now useless pillow aside, I searched some more before touching the opposite edge. The straw mattress’ edge was destroyed by various rips and holes made by sharp nails. The blanket was still nowhere to be found, probably pulled off and thrown at some point. Sighing and sniffling, I swung my feet to the side only to hear sharp clang! as my legs hit something. Reaching forward revealed an ice cold metal bowl and, just a little farther, a small mug. Both of which were heavy with items that were likely very cold. I dragged them over to assess them and found them to be food and drink. I wondered for a moment why I didn’t just smell the contents earlier. An intense itchy flare within my nose and the following dripping mucus reminded me exactly why. There were only two items in the bowl: a small but thick slice of bread (judging by the consistency: sourdough) and a long piece of sausage that curve around against the inside. A quick sip of the mug revealed it to be overly sweet cider. It occurred to me that these items could have been poisoned or something, but I was far too hungry to care. I wolfed down the food and quickly finished the cider before tossing both aside. (Oh and that rumor about not being able to taste food if you can’t smell it? Completely true.)

With my stomach now full, there was nothing to distract me from the problem. Curling into a fetal position and digging my nails into my arms, I tried thinking of where to go from here. Somehow I don’t think sleeping was possible anymore. The only openings in this room were the windows high above me and the large door across the room. The shackles around me were as tight as ever with no clear way of dislodging them. The chain against the wall also had no obvious weak points. Even if I did miraculously break out of these restraints, what do I do then? The windows were far too high for me to reach and looked too small to squeeze through anyway. If those two were smart, then they probably locked the door and maybe barricaded it to keep me in here.

Eventually, it occurred to me that I couldn’t hear the church bell ringing anymore. Once that thought passed, a series of clicks were heard and I was suddenly blinded by a bunch of light once again. (I could swear that light somehow made my nasal torture worse.) And of course, there they were again.

“Ah, you have awakened much earlier than we expected. Excellent. If we hurry, we can make up for lost time.”

Damn them. Damn them both to Hell. Or whatever place is horrible for them.

They walked forward and separated so one went to the wall and the other stopped beside me. The hooded one by me reached forward and, after pulling me upright, grasped both my wrists within its sleeves. My left wrist could detect the warm glove underneath while the right felt the five far too pointy digits again! The sleeves held the wrists until the second one reached to unhook the chain so my arms could be pulled behind me. They were quickly reattached and I felt them become connected to my ankle cuffs. I heard the thick wall chain become unhooked and be tossed aside. Soon enough I was lifted into the air with the same ease as before and had no choice but to "follow" them out of the room. All I could think about as we traveled through the halls was the enormous tickle still teasing my nose.

I was still unsure of where exactly we started, but I was certainly not surprised to be back in my favorite room.

Edited October 9, 2015 by Darkenedstar14

[Via]

I'm intrigued. Can't wait for more.

[Akahana]

Uuuuuuuuggghh why do you DO THIS to meeeeeee?????