ChaztheWeasel on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/chaztheweasel/art/S4-Tale-of-a-Tortured-Captive-63862394ChaztheWeasel

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S4-Tale of a Tortured Captive

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A groggy Kanasta laid against a cold stone surface. She didn't know where she was, but she knew she was sitting upright. She pulled her arms to reposition herself, but quickly found that she wasn't able to do so. Her arms were stuck, suspended behind her head somehow. She tried to move her hands and realized that her wrists had been tightly bound. Shocked, she tried to pull her legs in, but realized that they, too, were immobile; her ankles had rope wrapped tightly around them, and her feet were suspended in the air apparently. She pulled again and felt a light bounce, realizing that her feet were resting on a support bar of some sort, and they had been accurately attached to this bar, making it impossible for her to move them up, down, left, or right.

Her eyes flashed open as she remembered what had happened. She had been relaxing on the beach and breathing in the ocean air, when suddenly she was ambushed by an unseen group of people. They were forceful, but not violent, and their movements were swift and flexible, not characteristic of many men. As she tried to fight back, her arms and legs were held down and a feminine voice whispered into her ear, "Shhh, calm down, beautiful... Just relax. We won't hurt you." As those words softly drifted into her ear, a strange staff appeared before her, with three woven satchels hanging off of it by thin leather straps. The staff was wafted in front of her a few times, and she felt a mighty strong slumber coming over her. Then...

So that's how she wound up here. But... Where was here? She looked around, still disoriented. It was now very dark, as most every star in the sky could be seen, and those that couldn't be were covered by the dense jungle canopy. She had to be deep within the center of the island, she guessed, observing the mountains in the distance that were much closer to her now than they were when she was resting by the shore. The area was fully lit by several torches, and she could see a number of adobe huts further off. But it was the things closer to her that held her interest: a large statue was just in front of her, a statue that held a godlike quality about it. It had ruby red eyes and flowing white hair, but the entire statue appeared to be made of some sort of stone, possibly marble. Before long she realized that the statue lacked legs, and upon this revelation, she noted that it was not a statue at all, but a large, ornate throne. She looked over her feet and gazed into the ruby red eyes of this deity. If she wasn't mistaken, it almost looked just like--

"Well well well, it looks like our captive's finally woken up." The voice came as quite a shock to Kanasta, and her eyes darted around before at last landing on the woman standing beside her. The woman's skin was tanned from years of living under the beach sun, but maintained a glorious color throughout, just a few shades lighter than her own. In contrast, her hair was blonde, almost white, and at times she even thought she saw a shimmer of silver as she stood there. On each side of her head she had affixed into her hair two large, pointed red feathers, adding further to the tribal appearance. Her clothes were made of a lightly-tanned leather, and there wasn't much there; she might as well have been wearing nothing at all. She wore more jewelry than the captured latina, a bracelet on each wrist, one of gold and one of enormous dark green beads, and on this hand she wore two golden rings, one on her index finger and another on her ring finger. On each ankle was a gold anklet much like her bracelet, and on both feet she wore two toerings, in the same fashion as the rings on her hand. She also bore a solid gold armband, a sharktooth necklace, and two swirl-shaped earrings, with three small triangular earrings placed symmetrically at the top of each earlobe, a grand total of eight piercings on her ears alone. Her eyes were cunning and catlike, and she had a smile that made Kanasta feel welcome in this place, but at the same time, uncomfortable about what would happen next.

"I was afraid you'd never wake up. I was just about to place the rune on you. Definitely hate for you to miss out on that, dear!" She spoke in a playful manner, but at the same time her voice held an exotic air about it, sounding seductive, yet filling the captive with fear.

Kanasta was still too out of it to really respond. She noticed that the woman carried in one hand a bowl, and in the other she held a long fine paintbrush. She wanted to ask what she needed these for, but she could only manage to say, "Who are you..?"

"Who am I? You needn't ask such things, beautiful. My name should be the last thing on your mind. But, I am in fact the high chieftain of the Ganjuro tribe." She gave a strong, confident bow. "We call this island Tiki-Toa, but we also call it home. And you've trespassed on holy grounds. For that, you must be punished."

"Holy.. Punished..? Wait..." Suddenly Kanasta knew what was about to happen. It all came to her in an instant. The manner in which she had been restrained, the feathers in the woman's hair, her feet and torso made completely vulnerable... After five years of living with that weasel, she knew all too well what lay in store for her. "Please.. Please, I didn't mean to intrude. Our ship crashed here after a storm, we had no choice but to make this place our haven." She then had to take several deep breaths, having said all of that quite quickly and while still rather disoriented.

The woman smirked. "Like it or not, you stumbled upon it first. We decided to be kind enough to welcome you into our homes. But, not without a proper induction." She took the brush and dipped it into her bowl, and brought the now wet tip to Kanasta's delicate soles. "Now then, hold still..."

Kanasta couldn't help but jerk. She giggled to herself as she felt the brush spin around her heel a few times before snaking up her arch, which caused a restrained laugh to bubble up from her gut and out of her lips. At that moment, her foot was held by a firm grip, pulling her toes back and keeping the skin on her soles flat as a canvas, and the same was done to the other foot soon after. Kanasta managed to ask through her laughter, "Are you... painting me?"

"I am indeed. But don't worry about that. You should instead worry about what this paint's going to do to you once it dries." And with that, the woman held the girls soles before her almost intimately, and softly blew on the cold wet paint to speed up the process.


I wanted to make three images for this project. Unfortunately, this one wasn't completed on time, and so I had to make due with the two that were completed on time. But hey, you guys get to get this one as an added bonus. Lucky you!

Ganjuro concept courtesy of ~CheshireCatNY. Kanasta, Ganjuro rune, and Ganjuro chieftain © Zach Mansfield.
Image size
1700x2200px 1.45 MB
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FeatherEdits's avatar
so does the native girl ever actually get her tickled herself?