You awaken with a shiver and find yourself upside down!
You are hanging in the middle of a small, ice-walled cell, by a solid set of well-rusted manacles.Another set of similar manacles clasp your wrists, anchoring you to the snow-strewn floor.
Tugging mildly at your wrist cuffs coaxes a deep, gurgling growl from somewhere nearby. You gulp nervously as you notice the cell in which you find yourself is strewn with all manner of gore and carnage: severed limbs, splintered bones, iced over pools of blood.
You manage a sharp squeal of terror as a towering, thickly hirsute creature shambles into view: a yeti! The massive beast cocks its head at you and sniffs the air, its thick black lips parting over rows of glistening, red-stained teeth.
But then you hear a lilting unmistakably feminine voice: "Well then, is our guest awake now?"
You stare at the hulking monster, momentarily nonplussed, when a gorgeous, impossibly pale woman steps from behind the yeti, stroking the fur of its shoulder with a strange familiarity.
The woman is gorgeous, tall and well-shaped, with strong cheekbones and copper-hued eyes. Her long white hair falls in loose ringlets well past her shoulders and she wears a terrifically impractical, gold flecked corset - open at the front clear to her stomach - and a long, opalescent cloak. Her tall, silver-heeled boots clack on the icy floor and her ample breasts bounce invitingly as she walks into the cell.
"You don't look like one of those dour northerners." She says, circling your body inquisitively. "I wonder what would bring an outlander so far into the mountains."
She pauses momentarily, thinking with her hand on her chin.
"Ah, some sort of crude assassin for those scheming princes, no doubt. Here for coin, without a conscience to speak of."
She narrows her eyes at you and you are about to speak when she continues: "I respect that, of course. But I have no need of assassins."
She kneels in front of you and places her hands at your sides, just below your ribs and begins slowly and expertly spidering her fingers up your torso.
"What I need is someone with ... mirthful energies."
The woman smiles evilly and begins tickling you in earnest, moving her hands slowly toward your incredibly sensitive, and totally helpless, underarms, watching you closely for your reaction. You are extremely tickling and this treatment is unbearable!
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