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Chapter Text

Celes is tied to a wooden rack, her limbs spread apart and bound, as Kefka and several Imperial soldiers approach her. The last thing she remembers is sacrificing herself to save Locke and the others in the Magitek Research Facility. She had expected death, but instead, she was taken prisoner by Kefka.

The court mage sneers down at her, his eyes filled with sadistic glee. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the traitor Celes. You thought you could betray the Empire and get away with it? Think again, my dear."

The general clenches her jaw, refusing to show any fear. She knows Kefka is dangerous, but she's not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Kefka chuckles. "Don't worry. I'm not here to cause you pain. Gestahl's orders, you see. But there are other ways to punish a traitor like you. As a matter of fact, I think you'll enjoy it!"

With that, he signals to the soldiers, who begin to tickle Celes all over her exposed body. She squirms and writhes, unable to control her laughter, her torn clothes barely clinging on.

"S-stop!" she gasps between laughs. "Stop it, please!"

But Kefka only laughs harder. "Oh, I don't think so. I think we're just getting started."

Celes screams with laughter as each soldier picks a different spot to target: her sides, ribs, underarms, feet, knees, and inner thighs. Every inch of her body is extremely ticklish, and her squirming is futile as she cannot escape. The more she struggles, the more ticklish she becomes, as if her predicament isn't terrible enough.

Kefka cackles, enjoying every moment of her suffering. "This is too good," he says. "She's completely helpless!"

The soldiers continue to tickle her mercilessly, and the general quickly finds herself out of breath. She feels like she's going to go insane from the unbearable sensations. Tears stream down her face as she begs for them to stop, but her laughter is so intense that she can barely make out any words. The soldiers pay no attention to her pleas, not until she's completely spent and broken.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity to poor Celes, Kefka signals for them to cease. She lies there, panting and gasping for breath, her body covered in sweat.

"Ticklish, aren't we?" the court mage says, his eyes gleaming. "I hope you've learned your lesson."

"I'll never... betray... the Empire... again," Celes whimpers weakly.

Kefka chuckles. "We'll see about that," he says, and he and the soldiers leave the room, leaving Celes alone with her thoughts and her sore, ticklish body.

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She lies there, still bound and helpless, her body weak from the punishment she endured hours ago. Her heart races as she hears footsteps approaching, and she braces herself for another round of tickle torture.

But to her relief, it's not Kefka who enters the room. It's Leo Cristophe, the top general of the Empire. He studies her for a moment, noticing the bare spots on her body, her blonde hair tousled and disheveled.

"What happened?" he asks as he unties her from the rack.

But Celes is too exhausted and humiliated to speak. She simply shakes her head and looks down, holding back tears. Her body still quivers with ticklish aftershocks.

"Let's get you somewhere safe," Leo reassures her.

Back on her feet, she feels like she doesn't need his help anymore. But she stumbles on her first step, and allows him to support her as they exit the room. She thinks about Locke as they walk in silence towards her quarters in the Imperial Palace. She can't help but feel both worry and resentment towards him.

Upon reaching her room, Celes collapses onto her bed, and Leo pours her a glass of water. She sips it, feeling better with each swallow as he watches her intently.

"Thank you," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I had expected death."

Leo's expression softens. "You're safe now," he says. "That's all that matters."

Celes nods, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and shame. She knows she owes him her life, but she also knows that she's a traitor in his eyes.

He senses her discomfort and sighs. "I know this is difficult, Celes, but Emperor Gestahl has summoned you."

Her heart sinks as she realizes what this means. She must return to her duties as an Imperial general and work for the very Empire she betrayed. But what could Gestahl possibly still want to do with her, a traitor?

"I know it's not what you want," Leo says. "But I have faith in you. I have faith you'll make the right decision."

"I understand," she concedes.

"You have my support, Celes."

As Leo leaves, Celes looks at her reflection in the mirror, wondering where her loyalties lie. The thought of betraying the Returners weighs heavily on her mind, but she knows she doesn't have a choice. She thinks about Locke again, knowing that his unwavering belief in her was the only thing that kept her going during her darkest moments.

With a heavy heart, Celes heads out of her chambers, sword in hand, ready to face whatever fate has in store for her.

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Celes steps into the grand chamber where Emperor Gestahl awaits her. He sits on a lavish throne, his piercing gaze locking onto her as she approaches. She feels a shiver down her spine and takes a deep breath, steeling herself for this encounter that could determine her future.

"I see you survived Kefka's little game," Gestahl says with a smirk. "Quite impressive for a traitor."

Celes remains composed, her gaze steady. The emperor's disappointment and amusement intertwine, creating a complex web of emotions within her. "I am aware of the consequences of my actions, Your Majesty," she replies.

Gestahl studies her for a moment, stroking his long white beard. "Celes, my girl... I believe you still have value to the Empire," he says. "If you prove your loyalty, I am willing to grant you a chance for redemption."

Her heart skips a beat, but she makes no hesitation in her reply. "I accept your offer, Your Majesty," she declares. "I am ready to prove my loyalty and serve as a general once more."

Gestahl rises from his throne, his gaze unwavering. "Do not fail me, Celes. Your redemption hinges on your success."

Celes swallows the lump in her throat. "I won't fail you, Your Majesty."

He nods, acknowledging her acceptance. "Very well," he says. "Return to your quarters and rest. You have much work ahead of you."

She nods back. "Yes, Your Majesty."

As Celes turns to leave, two soldiers step forward. "They will escort you to your new quarters," Gestahl says. "Follow them."

Celes stutters, puzzled by the mention of "new quarters". Nevertheless, she dismisses her curiosity and obediently trails behind the soldiers as they exit the chamber. Her mind is preoccupied with thoughts of the arduous journey that lies ahead. However, as they navigate through the palace, she notices a sense of unease creeping in.

The soldiers guide Celes into an unfamiliar room, and a surge of apprehension races through her veins. Her eyes widen in alarm as Kefka materializes before her, a sadistic grin etching his face. Panic courses through the general, her gaze fixated on a sinister contraption resembling a rack, poised menacingly at the center of the room.

Before she can react, the soldiers forcefully thrust her toward the contraption, seizing her sword in the process. Mechanical restraints swiftly secure her wrists and ankles, spreading her limbs into an X-shaped position as they force her onto her back. Celes gasps, her heart pounding, as the realization of her predicament sinks in.

Kefka's laughter echoes through the room. "Oh, Celes," he taunts. "You weren't supposed to escape just yet."

Fear grips the general as she pleads for release, writhing against her bindings. "Please, Kefka! Let me go!"

But the court mage ignores her pleas, and with a push of a button, he sets the contraption's mechanisms into motion.

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A piercing scream fills the chamber as mechanical hands emerge from underneath the contraption. But instead of subjecting her to immediate tickle torture, the hands grab hold of her clothing. With relentless determination, they yank and tear until every garment is forcefully removed, leaving Celes completely naked and defenseless before her captors.

The hands withdraw momentarily, and Kefka's smile looms over her as he observes her exquisite body. "Well, well, Celes," he taunts. "You look rather adorable."

"Curse you, Kefka," Celes retorts, her voice trembling in the chilly air of the chamber.

"Yikes!" Kefka remarks with dripping sarcasm. "You need to loosen up, my dear. I believe a smile would make you even more adorable." He reveals a remote control, his finger poised over one of its buttons. "Laughter is the best medicine!" he chuckles.

With that, he activates the contraption, setting the hands in motion to launch their assault. Celes explodes with laughter as they zero in on her vulnerable upper body with ruthless precision. Feather-light fingers dance across her bare underarms, eliciting involuntary convulsions from the defenseless general. She writhes and thrashes against her restraints, but her laughter only intensifies as a second pair of hands homes in on her delicate breasts. Soon after, a third pair emerges, alternating between her tender sides and ribs. The overwhelming sensory overload forces Celes to scream louder than ever before.

Kefka watches with sadistic delight, relishing in her helpless squirming. "Enjoying yourself, Celes? This tickling shall continue until I return from my mission to the Sealed Gate. I shall hunt down every last esper, extract their magic, and ascend to godhood. Hee-hee-hee!"

Celes cannot grasp the implications of Kefka's words amidst the unbearable sensations inflicted upon her. As Kefka concludes his proclamation, the tickling ceases for a moment, granting her a brief respite... only for the contraption to spring back to life, releasing additional hands to intensify her torment. They descend upon her lower body, targeting her hypersensitive feet, knees, thighs, and even her womanhood. Celes' laughter reaches unprecedented heights as the sensations push her towards the brink of madness. Every fiber of her being screams for the tickling to stop, but her pleas go unheard.

"I'll see you later, my dear!"

Kefka and the soldiers exit the room, leaving Celes all alone in her torment. The door slams shut, the sound reverberating through the chamber, sealing her fate within its confines. The lock clicks into place, and she is left abandoned, trapped in her eternal ticklish nightmare.