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Description
Someone told me once that those who refuse to learn from the past will be doomed to repeat it. That never meant much to me until now. I remember asking my mother what it meant, and she cuffed me so hard I lost all inclination to ever ask again. But I came away with the general idea that if you avoid making old mistakes, you won't end up in the same old mess.

I was wrong.

See, it turns out a whole bunch of different mistakes can lead you to the same messed up situation. Right now, I'm sitting in a jail cell on a charge of murder, and more than likely I'm going to be hanged in the morning. Why? Because I didn't learn from my earlier mistakes; because I didn't learn my lesson and make the most of my second chance.

This isn't the first time I've been in a cell, waiting for my punishment, but it will be my last. I was in this situation before, almost two years ago. Same town, same jail. Heck, it was the same piece of shit excuse of a man that got me put in here last time. First time around however, I got a lucky break and was given a way out. I don't think there is going to be any miracle rescue this time.

See, last time my way out came with conditions and rules - ones I couldn't keep. I guess, on that note, maybe I don't deserve another chance.

That doesn't mean I'm okay with dying tomorrow, or even with the series of events that led me here. Because I'm not. It is all wrong. Everything was set against me from the very start. Everything. I never had a chance to be anything other than what I am. I'm the victim here.

Think I'm bitter? Damn right I am!

Truth is, I shouldn't be here. I should be miles away by now, living happily with all this tragedy behind me. The people of this backwater, wild west town should be nothing but a dark memory. It didn't have to be this way. I could have had a totally different life. I was given the chance to have any life I wanted, but I didn't take it.

And now, with only hours of life left to go, I find myself thinking back on my wasted opportunity and about the impossible person who tried to save me.

A Kat called Gedan.

* * *

My name is Amber Green. It is the 6tgh of September 1867 and I am soon to be a dead woman.

My mother's name is Margaret Green, a harsh, but God-fearing woman who I realise in hindsight did what she thought was the best for me. Her only sin, as far as I can figure, was falling for a man like my father - of whom she and I were rightfully afraid. My father, William Henley Green, was a businessman who had money in three other towns in. He is a large and foul-smelling man who cares more for the flow of his coin than he does for welfare of his daughter.

It all started on my eighteenth birthday. It was supposed to a special day that marked my day into womanhood. I’d met this boy who I was sweet on - Royce Callahan, a golden-haired angel, as beautiful as any boy had right to be. We grew up together and I like to think my likeness for him was matched by his own for me. But instead of pursuing his tender kisses, I was being arrested for trying to kill the son of a bitch who tried to rape me.

Yes, a murder charge; happy birthday to me.

Lyle Ranq, a man whose name is equal to his vile and lecherous nature, came to know me a couple of years earlier as a business contact with my father. Even then his eyes never left my body, and it made me sick to my stomach whenever he was around. He would come to dinner and stare hungrily at me, all the while my father would be laughing amicably about the money they had made; all the while my mother would look on anxiously, as if too scared to say anything.

On the night of my birthday, Ranq came to my room while I slept, intent of taking from me what was mine to give my choice. He pawed pathetically at me until I woke. I think he expected me to scream, for he covered my mouth, but instead I punched him as hard as I could across the jaw. That seemed only to rouse his anger and I ran from my room and into the kitchen. I grabbed the first thing I could find - a meat carving knife. I slashed at him again and again. He mewled and cried pitifully but I cared not and kept slashing at him until I was unarmed and forcefully stopped by my father. There was a lot of blood on him and on me and on the floor. I had never felt so alive.

I was quickly put in chains. All the time my heart was racing, pounding away in my chest. I was allowed to clean my hands and to change out of my blood-stained night gown before they swept me off to the town gaol. The sheriff looked me up and down distastefully as Doctor Andrews, one of the few good people in Whiprun town, read out the severity of Mr Ranq's injuries. I didn't understand most of what he said, but I gathered enough to know that he would live, sadly, but he would be forever scarred.

I was in court a day later, such that it was. Even now I can still remember how horribly shocked I felt at the absence of my Father and Mother. Not one of them bothered to turn up to me get sentenced. The Judge sentenced me to a public flogging and said that had I been older or the victim less merciful - yes merciful, my punishment would have been much more severe. If I hadn't been so scared of what was to follow, I might have found the situation hilarious.

Put in a cell and then left to ponder on my fate, I saw the true face of justice. I saw that there was no form of justice that was above the law. The only real justice was one that you made for yourself. If Ranq had succeeded in having his way with me, he would not have been punished. I had been right to defend myself yet here I was, in a cell. My mood blackened as the hours passed on.

And it was when my mood was at its darkest and my melancholy at its strongest that I met Gedan.

It was midnight. I was lying on my bunk in my cell, arms folded behind my head, unable to sleep and unable to think of anything else other than what was going to happen to me. The gaol house was dark and quiet; there were six other, cells and I knew that at least three of them were occupied. Yet everything was wonderfully quiet and calm. There was flickering candlelight coming from the guard's office, but I could hear him snoring loudly in his char. Everyone seemed to dead to the world, except for me and the man who burst suddenly into hysterical laughter.

It was a most curious sound and one that I will never forget; partly because I hadn't heard such thorough and belly shaking sounds before, but also because of what was to follow. It was coming from the cell at the far end of the corridor. I groaned at first, knowing that such loud laughter would certainly stop me from sleeping, but as I listened helplessly to it, it started to pique my interest. It wasn't your normal laughter; this was something else, something sweeter and every now and then the man would squeal or mutter something mid-laughter.

I got to my feet and walked to the cell bars. "Hello?" I called out.

The man's laughter, disturbing yet oddly bewitching to my ears, continued without interruption despite my query. As I listened, the laughter grew in intensity, building in volume as if he was being goaded towards something. I found myself smirking to hear such revelry; it was such a warm and genuine sound - telling of a delight that I'd not known before.

"You okay in there, pal?" I called out.

Still the long and loud string of delighted giggles continued. I found myself wanting to giggle myself at it. I wondered what on earth could be evoking such a sound. No one in this place had any right to be so happy. More than that, I was amazed that none of the other prisoners or even the guard had been awakened by it.

"Care to share what's so funny?" I shouted.

The only response I got was more laughter.

"Well, can you try and keep it down? I need to get some sleep!"

My plea went either unheard, or it was ignored, but either way there was no interruption to his oddly thrilling laughter.

I turned away and went back to my bed. I lay down on the bed, grinning, but getting a little bemused that someone could laugh for so long and so loud without respite. His laughter filled the entire gaol, hanging in every corner, but still no one else seemed to be stirred by it.

I felt the first warm stirrings of tiredness behind my eyes. "Fine," I muttered. "Giggle all you want...just let me sleep."

At that very moment, the laughter seemed to peak, reaching a new high and mingled with what I can only describe as pleasure moans. It made me feel awkward and just a little dirty to hear; nothing short of sex could conjure such noises from a man. Heck, I doubt even normal sex could so move a man. His sighs and moans quietened down until there was only silence.

"At last..." I sighed.

I closed my eyes and let the warm tiredness seep over the rest of me. For a moment I had a feeling of deep calm where every worry and concern seemed to disappear from my thoughts. I let out a happy sigh, looking forward to a nice night of sleep.

A moment later my eyes snapped wide open again. The soft, warm call of sleep faded instantly, and I was suddenly wide awake. A scent crept into my cell and into my nostrils; it was sweet and pleasant and tugged the corners of my mouth into a broad smile. I felt an odd tingle of excitement pass through me. I can't describe it any more than that - words don't do it any justice. Unless you've ever felt it, you will never know just how sweet it is.

"Mm," I sighed pleasantly and closed my eyes.

Then I heard boots clicking softly on the wooden floor outside of my cell. Someone was walking down the corridor, presumably coming from the same cell where that ecstatic laughter had come from.

"I hope he appreciates it," I said and chuckled, "whatever it was you were doing to him. Must have been special to have him making sounds like that...something very special."

The boots stopped outside my cell. I didn't bother opening my eyes.

"You're awake?" The voice from outside my cell was female; soft and delicate.

"You think I could sleep with all that going on?"

"You should," said the voice. "Everyone else did."

The woman's voice told me more about her than it should have. Just hearing it was enough for me to know that she was gentle and beautiful - I know how that sounds but it is true. Even before I saw her, I knew she was breath-taking and beautiful. I gulped and opened my eyes to look at her.

She was leaning against the wall opposite my cell, her head lowered, hands in her pockets as if she had always been there. Her face was hidden by shadow. She wore a broad black Stetson from under which fell in long ropes of the reddest hair I had ever seen. A heavy looking leather coat wrapped about her body from shoulders to knees. Her pants were the colour of cocoa and the shiny black boots that gleamed perfectly lacked spurs. Even in the slouch of her pose, she had a stunning body - round and plump where every woman ought to be. I had an inkling then why that man had made such noises.

And her smell...the smell was coming from her.

"Are you a working girl?"

She giggled. "No."

"Then what are you doing here?" I asked.

"You should be sleeping," she said. "Like the other prisoners and the guard at his desk - you should be wrapped in sweet dreams and unaware of my presence."

"Sorry to ruin your day, but your man could have woken the entire town with his moaning."

"He's not my man,” she said, amused. “His name is Wyatt Rigby."

"I'm betting he'll remember you a lot longer than you remember him."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Amber."

I frowned. "How do you know who I am?"

She didn't answer.

"Huh," I said, "I guess I must be the talk of the town. Well, if you have come to judge me, you can just not bother and move on. I'm not sorry for what I did."

"What did you do?"

"You don't know?"

"No," she said. "But I would like to."

"Do you actually care?" I asked with a sigh.

"Yes," she said, and I believed her.

"Why?"

"Because you're still awake," she said. "And that tickles my interest."

It probably sounds a little creepy, but it wasn't. It was exciting. There was something more to this woman that made her stand out. I didn't know what she was talking about, but I felt a little tingle at the back of my mind when she told me she cared. I smiled. "Why does it matter that I'm still awake?"

"Because you shouldn't be. And the fact that you are still awake, that you heard Wyatt, means..."

"What?"

"...it means you're in need of my help," she said, and I was certain she was smiling. "Which, on this occasion, I can actually offer."

"But I don't even know you!"

"Not yet, but you will." She looked up and I saw she had brilliant, emerald eyes that glistened like deep pools touched my moonlight under the rim of her hat. I shivered.

"You're a little late to help me," I said with a sigh.

"I doubt that very much."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Gedan."

I looked at her and felt an odd sense of giddiness under her gaze. "H-hello, Gedan." I made a giddy giggle. “You new around here?”

“No, actually,” she said. “I’ve been coming and going for a while now. “But I’ve away a while.”

“How long?”

“Twenty years.”

“You look good for your age.”

“Sweetie, you have no idea.” She made a strange purring sound that made me giggle to hear.

“You...you smell lovely," I said. "What perfume is that?"

"Not perfume," she said, "just me. And thank you."

"H-have we met before?"

"No."

"Feels like we have."

"I get that lot," said Gedan.

I nodded. "It's weird, but nice; kind of reassuring," I said. "You're not from here, are you?"

"No."

"So, you're just here for Wyatt?"

"This time, yes," said Gedan. "He isn't the only one in this town I've visited over the years, however and I'm pretty sure he won't be the last."

I smirked. "What were you doing to him?"

Gedan grinned and after studying me for a moment, she said, "tickling him."

I felt a blush come over me. "Tickling?"

"Mm," she said and giggled.

A ghostly feeling went up my back and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Tickling. Eesh. Why did it have to be tickling? "Sounded like he really liked it," I said.

"He did."

"Do many people react like that to being tickled?"

"You'd be surprised," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

I grinned. "You spend a lot of time tickling people then?"

"Oh, sweetie, you have no idea."

"And do they all like it as much as Wyatt?"

"Some like it more," she said and then sung sweetly. "Fingers and feathers, nails under toes, but where I was tickling, only he knows."

A vision popped suddenly into my mind of Gedan kneeling before me, taking my boots off, and tickling the bottoms of my feet. The blush I felt earlier grew brighter in my cheeks. Her words got under my skin and the odd purring sound rose to my ears. I shivered with the thought of it and wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to have it happen.

"What?" I asked, feeling her staring at me.

"Yes," Gedan said softly, like she'd just accepted an invitation.

"Yes what?"

"I'll be delighted to do that for you."

"D-do what?"

"Tickle your feet, sweetie," she said and wiggled her gloved hands at me.

I let out a gasped brief bark of laughter. "But I never said..."

"But you thought it," she said, green eyes sparkling. "You had a sudden vision of me in the cell with you, kneeling on the floor, with my fingers running up and down your soles. And when you thought it, you liked it. You blushed."

My stomach wobbled and I felt a giddy rush of feeling. "H-how did you know?"

"Magic."

"You should be careful admitting to things like that," I said sourly. "They don't like odd people here. You go around claiming to do magic, they might stone you or hang you."

"And what are they going to do to you?"

"Flogging."

"Hm."

"What?"

Gedan stepped forward away from the wall she'd been leaning against. I saw her face and the fur that covered it; and the tail at her back all at the same time. I froze. I know it should have scared me and that I should started yelling for help, but she was too beautiful. She was a like a dream, all smiles and softness. Calling for help was the very last thing I wanted to do.

"W-what are you?" I asked.

"A friend," she said, her voice soft like the passing of silk. "I promise. I'd like to help you Amber, if I can."

"Help me. how?"

"First you have to tell me what has brought you here."

I nodded. "I can do that," I said.

"Then you have to trust me and be completely honest with me."

"Simple enough, I guess."

"Good," she said. "Are you ready for this?"

"For what?"

Gedan tilted her head coyly. "The first thing I'm going to do is to slip into your cell," she said. "Then I'm going to make you nice and comfy by taking your boots off. And then, you're going to laugh for me, sweet and carefree, like you have never laughed before. So, that when you look back on this night you will remember only sweet things."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, gulping.

"Tickle the soles of your feet, of course," she said, "Until you've laughed so much that you feel like you're floating."

I blushed harder.

"And once that is done," Gedan said, "you're going to tell me what has brought you here and I will see what I can do to help you."

I could feel my face turning red and as I watched, Gedan took a set of keys from inside her pocket and unlocked the cell door. I felt butterflies flittering around under my skin as if they were trapped in my gut. She stepped into the cell, closing the door behind her and made her way over to me. I felt my eyes drawn to her hips as she walked, and the gentle swishing of her slender tail was spell binding.

Before I knew it, she was kneeling on the floor before me, green eyes beaming and a smile so devilishly perfect that I felt a rush of lust burn through me - what treats would this magnificent Gedan give while looking so perfectly submissive.

"I'm beginning to understand why Wyatt made those sounds," I said.

Gedan giggled and patted her lap with both hands. "Give me your feet, sweetie," she said.

Without a word I turned my legs off the bed and put them in Gedan's lap, grinning helplessly all the while. "I can't believe I'm doing this," I said.

"When I'm finished," Gedan promised. "You'll wonder why you never asked someone to do this sooner."

“I’ve always wanted to.”

“I know.”

I stared into her eyes, feeling that Gedan knew everything about me just by looking at me. For that single moment, I felt like I was the most important person in the world to her - that I was all that mattered. It was a giddy rush of feeling she set in me with that look, and I will not forget it. Ever.

I heard Gedan purr and with the gentlest of touches, she took off my boots and my bare toes wiggled carefree in her lap. I shuddered with anticipation, so caught up in the feeling that the absurdity of the situation no longer registered. What happened next was dream-like and utterly intoxicating. I sat enrapt in a cloud of thrilling expectation and trembling vulnerability. My breath quickened and I even bit my lower lip to calm myself.

Gedan looped her tail about my ankles, a soft yet unbreakable hold and then...with bliss unhurried grace she put her gloved finger to work on the waiting soles of my feet.

"Kitchy koo, sweetie..."

Description
Someone told me once that those who refuse to learn from the past will be doomed to repeat it. That never meant much to me until now. I remember asking my mother what it meant, and she cuffed me so hard I lost all inclination to ever ask again. But I came away with the general idea that if you avoid making old mistakes, you won't end up in the same old mess.

I was wrong.

See, it turns out a whole bunch of different mistakes can lead you to the same messed up situation. Right now, I'm sitting in a jail cell on a charge of murder, and more than likely I'm going to be hanged in the morning. Why? Because I didn't learn from my earlier mistakes; because I didn't learn my lesson and make the most of my second chance.

This isn't the first time I've been in a cell, waiting for my punishment, but it will be my last. I was in this situation before, almost two years ago. Same town, same jail. Heck, it was the same piece of shit excuse of a man that got me put in here last time. First time around however, I got a lucky break and was given a way out. I don't think there is going to be any miracle rescue this time.

See, last time my way out came with conditions and rules - ones I couldn't keep. I guess, on that note, maybe I don't deserve another chance.

That doesn't mean I'm okay with dying tomorrow, or even with the series of events that led me here. Because I'm not. It is all wrong. Everything was set against me from the very start. Everything. I never had a chance to be anything other than what I am. I'm the victim here.

Think I'm bitter? Damn right I am!

Truth is, I shouldn't be here. I should be miles away by now, living happily with all this tragedy behind me. The people of this backwater, wild west town should be nothing but a dark memory. It didn't have to be this way. I could have had a totally different life. I was given the chance to have any life I wanted, but I didn't take it.

And now, with only hours of life left to go, I find myself thinking back on my wasted opportunity and about the impossible person who tried to save me.

A Kat called Gedan.

* * *

My name is Amber Green. It is the 6tgh of September 1867 and I am soon to be a dead woman.

My mother's name is Margaret Green, a harsh, but God-fearing woman who I realise in hindsight did what she thought was the best for me. Her only sin, as far as I can figure, was falling for a man like my father - of whom she and I were rightfully afraid. My father, William Henley Green, was a businessman who had money in three other towns in. He is a large and foul-smelling man who cares more for the flow of his coin than he does for welfare of his daughter.

It all started on my eighteenth birthday. It was supposed to a special day that marked my day into womanhood. I’d met this boy who I was sweet on - Royce Callahan, a golden-haired angel, as beautiful as any boy had right to be. We grew up together and I like to think my likeness for him was matched by his own for me. But instead of pursuing his tender kisses, I was being arrested for trying to kill the son of a bitch who tried to rape me.

Yes, a murder charge; happy birthday to me.

Lyle Ranq, a man whose name is equal to his vile and lecherous nature, came to know me a couple of years earlier as a business contact with my father. Even then his eyes never left my body, and it made me sick to my stomach whenever he was around. He would come to dinner and stare hungrily at me, all the while my father would be laughing amicably about the money they had made; all the while my mother would look on anxiously, as if too scared to say anything.

On the night of my birthday, Ranq came to my room while I slept, intent of taking from me what was mine to give my choice. He pawed pathetically at me until I woke. I think he expected me to scream, for he covered my mouth, but instead I punched him as hard as I could across the jaw. That seemed only to rouse his anger and I ran from my room and into the kitchen. I grabbed the first thing I could find - a meat carving knife. I slashed at him again and again. He mewled and cried pitifully but I cared not and kept slashing at him until I was unarmed and forcefully stopped by my father. There was a lot of blood on him and on me and on the floor. I had never felt so alive.

I was quickly put in chains. All the time my heart was racing, pounding away in my chest. I was allowed to clean my hands and to change out of my blood-stained night gown before they swept me off to the town gaol. The sheriff looked me up and down distastefully as Doctor Andrews, one of the few good people in Whiprun town, read out the severity of Mr Ranq's injuries. I didn't understand most of what he said, but I gathered enough to know that he would live, sadly, but he would be forever scarred.

I was in court a day later, such that it was. Even now I can still remember how horribly shocked I felt at the absence of my Father and Mother. Not one of them bothered to turn up to me get sentenced. The Judge sentenced me to a public flogging and said that had I been older or the victim less merciful - yes merciful, my punishment would have been much more severe. If I hadn't been so scared of what was to follow, I might have found the situation hilarious.

Put in a cell and then left to ponder on my fate, I saw the true face of justice. I saw that there was no form of justice that was above the law. The only real justice was one that you made for yourself. If Ranq had succeeded in having his way with me, he would not have been punished. I had been right to defend myself yet here I was, in a cell. My mood blackened as the hours passed on.

And it was when my mood was at its darkest and my melancholy at its strongest that I met Gedan.

It was midnight. I was lying on my bunk in my cell, arms folded behind my head, unable to sleep and unable to think of anything else other than what was going to happen to me. The gaol house was dark and quiet; there were six other, cells and I knew that at least three of them were occupied. Yet everything was wonderfully quiet and calm. There was flickering candlelight coming from the guard's office, but I could hear him snoring loudly in his char. Everyone seemed to dead to the world, except for me and the man who burst suddenly into hysterical laughter.

It was a most curious sound and one that I will never forget; partly because I hadn't heard such thorough and belly shaking sounds before, but also because of what was to follow. It was coming from the cell at the far end of the corridor. I groaned at first, knowing that such loud laughter would certainly stop me from sleeping, but as I listened helplessly to it, it started to pique my interest. It wasn't your normal laughter; this was something else, something sweeter and every now and then the man would squeal or mutter something mid-laughter.

I got to my feet and walked to the cell bars. "Hello?" I called out.

The man's laughter, disturbing yet oddly bewitching to my ears, continued without interruption despite my query. As I listened, the laughter grew in intensity, building in volume as if he was being goaded towards something. I found myself smirking to hear such revelry; it was such a warm and genuine sound - telling of a delight that I'd not known before.

"You okay in there, pal?" I called out.

Still the long and loud string of delighted giggles continued. I found myself wanting to giggle myself at it. I wondered what on earth could be evoking such a sound. No one in this place had any right to be so happy. More than that, I was amazed that none of the other prisoners or even the guard had been awakened by it.

"Care to share what's so funny?" I shouted.

The only response I got was more laughter.

"Well, can you try and keep it down? I need to get some sleep!"

My plea went either unheard, or it was ignored, but either way there was no interruption to his oddly thrilling laughter.

I turned away and went back to my bed. I lay down on the bed, grinning, but getting a little bemused that someone could laugh for so long and so loud without respite. His laughter filled the entire gaol, hanging in every corner, but still no one else seemed to be stirred by it.

I felt the first warm stirrings of tiredness behind my eyes. "Fine," I muttered. "Giggle all you want...just let me sleep."

At that very moment, the laughter seemed to peak, reaching a new high and mingled with what I can only describe as pleasure moans. It made me feel awkward and just a little dirty to hear; nothing short of sex could conjure such noises from a man. Heck, I doubt even normal sex could so move a man. His sighs and moans quietened down until there was only silence.

"At last..." I sighed.

I closed my eyes and let the warm tiredness seep over the rest of me. For a moment I had a feeling of deep calm where every worry and concern seemed to disappear from my thoughts. I let out a happy sigh, looking forward to a nice night of sleep.

A moment later my eyes snapped wide open again. The soft, warm call of sleep faded instantly, and I was suddenly wide awake. A scent crept into my cell and into my nostrils; it was sweet and pleasant and tugged the corners of my mouth into a broad smile. I felt an odd tingle of excitement pass through me. I can't describe it any more than that - words don't do it any justice. Unless you've ever felt it, you will never know just how sweet it is.

"Mm," I sighed pleasantly and closed my eyes.

Then I heard boots clicking softly on the wooden floor outside of my cell. Someone was walking down the corridor, presumably coming from the same cell where that ecstatic laughter had come from.

"I hope he appreciates it," I said and chuckled, "whatever it was you were doing to him. Must have been special to have him making sounds like that...something very special."

The boots stopped outside my cell. I didn't bother opening my eyes.

"You're awake?" The voice from outside my cell was female; soft and delicate.

"You think I could sleep with all that going on?"

"You should," said the voice. "Everyone else did."

The woman's voice told me more about her than it should have. Just hearing it was enough for me to know that she was gentle and beautiful - I know how that sounds but it is true. Even before I saw her, I knew she was breath-taking and beautiful. I gulped and opened my eyes to look at her.

She was leaning against the wall opposite my cell, her head lowered, hands in her pockets as if she had always been there. Her face was hidden by shadow. She wore a broad black Stetson from under which fell in long ropes of the reddest hair I had ever seen. A heavy looking leather coat wrapped about her body from shoulders to knees. Her pants were the colour of cocoa and the shiny black boots that gleamed perfectly lacked spurs. Even in the slouch of her pose, she had a stunning body - round and plump where every woman ought to be. I had an inkling then why that man had made such noises.

And her smell...the smell was coming from her.

"Are you a working girl?"

She giggled. "No."

"Then what are you doing here?" I asked.

"You should be sleeping," she said. "Like the other prisoners and the guard at his desk - you should be wrapped in sweet dreams and unaware of my presence."

"Sorry to ruin your day, but your man could have woken the entire town with his moaning."

"He's not my man,” she said, amused. “His name is Wyatt Rigby."

"I'm betting he'll remember you a lot longer than you remember him."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Amber."

I frowned. "How do you know who I am?"

She didn't answer.

"Huh," I said, "I guess I must be the talk of the town. Well, if you have come to judge me, you can just not bother and move on. I'm not sorry for what I did."

"What did you do?"

"You don't know?"

"No," she said. "But I would like to."

"Do you actually care?" I asked with a sigh.

"Yes," she said, and I believed her.

"Why?"

"Because you're still awake," she said. "And that tickles my interest."

It probably sounds a little creepy, but it wasn't. It was exciting. There was something more to this woman that made her stand out. I didn't know what she was talking about, but I felt a little tingle at the back of my mind when she told me she cared. I smiled. "Why does it matter that I'm still awake?"

"Because you shouldn't be. And the fact that you are still awake, that you heard Wyatt, means..."

"What?"

"...it means you're in need of my help," she said, and I was certain she was smiling. "Which, on this occasion, I can actually offer."

"But I don't even know you!"

"Not yet, but you will." She looked up and I saw she had brilliant, emerald eyes that glistened like deep pools touched my moonlight under the rim of her hat. I shivered.

"You're a little late to help me," I said with a sigh.

"I doubt that very much."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Gedan."

I looked at her and felt an odd sense of giddiness under her gaze. "H-hello, Gedan." I made a giddy giggle. “You new around here?”

“No, actually,” she said. “I’ve been coming and going for a while now. “But I’ve away a while.”

“How long?”

“Twenty years.”

“You look good for your age.”

“Sweetie, you have no idea.” She made a strange purring sound that made me giggle to hear.

“You...you smell lovely," I said. "What perfume is that?"

"Not perfume," she said, "just me. And thank you."

"H-have we met before?"

"No."

"Feels like we have."

"I get that lot," said Gedan.

I nodded. "It's weird, but nice; kind of reassuring," I said. "You're not from here, are you?"

"No."

"So, you're just here for Wyatt?"

"This time, yes," said Gedan. "He isn't the only one in this town I've visited over the years, however and I'm pretty sure he won't be the last."

I smirked. "What were you doing to him?"

Gedan grinned and after studying me for a moment, she said, "tickling him."

I felt a blush come over me. "Tickling?"

"Mm," she said and giggled.

A ghostly feeling went up my back and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Tickling. Eesh. Why did it have to be tickling? "Sounded like he really liked it," I said.

"He did."

"Do many people react like that to being tickled?"

"You'd be surprised," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

I grinned. "You spend a lot of time tickling people then?"

"Oh, sweetie, you have no idea."

"And do they all like it as much as Wyatt?"

"Some like it more," she said and then sung sweetly. "Fingers and feathers, nails under toes, but where I was tickling, only he knows."

A vision popped suddenly into my mind of Gedan kneeling before me, taking my boots off, and tickling the bottoms of my feet. The blush I felt earlier grew brighter in my cheeks. Her words got under my skin and the odd purring sound rose to my ears. I shivered with the thought of it and wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to have it happen.

"What?" I asked, feeling her staring at me.

"Yes," Gedan said softly, like she'd just accepted an invitation.

"Yes what?"

"I'll be delighted to do that for you."

"D-do what?"

"Tickle your feet, sweetie," she said and wiggled her gloved hands at me.

I let out a gasped brief bark of laughter. "But I never said..."

"But you thought it," she said, green eyes sparkling. "You had a sudden vision of me in the cell with you, kneeling on the floor, with my fingers running up and down your soles. And when you thought it, you liked it. You blushed."

My stomach wobbled and I felt a giddy rush of feeling. "H-how did you know?"

"Magic."

"You should be careful admitting to things like that," I said sourly. "They don't like odd people here. You go around claiming to do magic, they might stone you or hang you."

"And what are they going to do to you?"

"Flogging."

"Hm."

"What?"

Gedan stepped forward away from the wall she'd been leaning against. I saw her face and the fur that covered it; and the tail at her back all at the same time. I froze. I know it should have scared me and that I should started yelling for help, but she was too beautiful. She was a like a dream, all smiles and softness. Calling for help was the very last thing I wanted to do.

"W-what are you?" I asked.

"A friend," she said, her voice soft like the passing of silk. "I promise. I'd like to help you Amber, if I can."

"Help me. how?"

"First you have to tell me what has brought you here."

I nodded. "I can do that," I said.

"Then you have to trust me and be completely honest with me."

"Simple enough, I guess."

"Good," she said. "Are you ready for this?"

"For what?"

Gedan tilted her head coyly. "The first thing I'm going to do is to slip into your cell," she said. "Then I'm going to make you nice and comfy by taking your boots off. And then, you're going to laugh for me, sweet and carefree, like you have never laughed before. So, that when you look back on this night you will remember only sweet things."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, gulping.

"Tickle the soles of your feet, of course," she said, "Until you've laughed so much that you feel like you're floating."

I blushed harder.

"And once that is done," Gedan said, "you're going to tell me what has brought you here and I will see what I can do to help you."

I could feel my face turning red and as I watched, Gedan took a set of keys from inside her pocket and unlocked the cell door. I felt butterflies flittering around under my skin as if they were trapped in my gut. She stepped into the cell, closing the door behind her and made her way over to me. I felt my eyes drawn to her hips as she walked, and the gentle swishing of her slender tail was spell binding.

Before I knew it, she was kneeling on the floor before me, green eyes beaming and a smile so devilishly perfect that I felt a rush of lust burn through me - what treats would this magnificent Gedan give while looking so perfectly submissive.

"I'm beginning to understand why Wyatt made those sounds," I said.

Gedan giggled and patted her lap with both hands. "Give me your feet, sweetie," she said.

Without a word I turned my legs off the bed and put them in Gedan's lap, grinning helplessly all the while. "I can't believe I'm doing this," I said.

"When I'm finished," Gedan promised. "You'll wonder why you never asked someone to do this sooner."

“I’ve always wanted to.”

“I know.”

I stared into her eyes, feeling that Gedan knew everything about me just by looking at me. For that single moment, I felt like I was the most important person in the world to her - that I was all that mattered. It was a giddy rush of feeling she set in me with that look, and I will not forget it. Ever.

I heard Gedan purr and with the gentlest of touches, she took off my boots and my bare toes wiggled carefree in her lap. I shuddered with anticipation, so caught up in the feeling that the absurdity of the situation no longer registered. What happened next was dream-like and utterly intoxicating. I sat enrapt in a cloud of thrilling expectation and trembling vulnerability. My breath quickened and I even bit my lower lip to calm myself.

Gedan looped her tail about my ankles, a soft yet unbreakable hold and then...with bliss unhurried grace she put her gloved finger to work on the waiting soles of my feet.

"Kitchy koo, sweetie..."