Chapter One: Feats of Binding and Feet Unbound

Eldaeeria, or simply “El,” was a striking young witch known for her silken raven hair that seemed to flow like the midnight current down her lascivious curves. Her jeweled green eyes sparkled with equal parts mischief and sensuality, often framed with a thick layer of charcoal liner. Long, sinewy limbs extended from her exposed shoulders and barely-covered thighs, completing her sultry visage. However, it was her impeccably dainty feet that held El’s most striking beauty. She carefully tended them with potions of velvet suppleness she crafted herself, ensuring each porcelain arch, every graceful toe, and the tender space between each remained absolutely divine.

When it came to expressing her mood, Eldaeeria needed only to twitch her graceful fingers or gesture with her flawless, always unshod feet. She could punctuate her desires by simply biting her full, painted lips or innocently playing with a strap on her barely-there sandals.

As a professional tickle enforcer, Eldaeeria’s career often saw her using her magics to make slaves of all kinds submit as they choked on uncontrollable laughter, begging for mercy. Many found themselves ensnared by their own need to serve this heart-stopping temptress, surrendering, breathlessly and willingly, to her wicked machinations. Today, her slaves complied with a whispered rumor that she had finally set her sights upon forging her magnum opus: The creation of a tool to render even the most immovable slave helpless with unstoppable tickles.

In her dimly lit workshop, Eldaeeria stood on her- daintily stretched- tiptoes, examining the ancient automaton that towered above her. It was a metallic masterpiece, standing at least ten feet tall and gleaming with a cold, profound blue light. El darted her pink tongue between her lips as she marveled at the automaton’s immense strength and resilience, rumored to be immune to even the most potent of magics.

However, boldness graced the autumn witch of laughter, and Eldaeeria planned to infuse life into the automaton’s bared metallic heart by summoning an infernal tickle demon from the seventh circle into its strong, hollow chest. Perhaps that would animate the beast and allow her to wield unimaginable tickling power!

Satisfied with her intense scrutiny, El knelt before the automaton, her gossamer robe falling away to sensually caress the curves of her pert derrière. Positioning herself just below the automaton’s heart, she reached forward with one lithe hand, tracing the contours of its intricate chest plate. The other hand, gripping a fine ebony dagger, carefully sliced along her supple arm, droplets of blood flowing like enchanting rubies. With each pulse, El’s energetic green gaze never faltered, only sharpening with burning intent as she murmured the forbidden incantations.

The torchlight flickered in the depths of the chamber, as the sweet, cacophonous symphony of shadows and the whispered spell melded into a mesmerizing dance of darkness. Eldaeeria’s blood pooled around the automaton’s heart, a crimson offering that soon seemed to vanish into the cold metal itself.

Suddenly, she felt it – an alien weight now lingered in the automaton’s chest. She knew her spell had worked; the tickle demon was contained within. With a wicked, fanged grin, she tipsily rose to her perfect feet, searching the automaton’s form for any movement.

To her delight, she saw the automaton’s fingers flex, the metallic joints grinding shrilly as fresh life compelled it. The impassive face of the automaton seemed to soften into an eerie smile, revelling in the unexplainable fusion of metal and infernal spirit. Suddenly, its eyes flashed, sending a shiver up El’s spine that nestled itself somewhere between paralyzing terror and heavy arousal.

Her full lips trembled, legs quivered in anticipation as the automaton continued its unnervingly fluid movements. She placed her hand on its chest, feeling the thrum of life that now surged in place of once-barren steel. Eldaeeria, almost purring out of satisfaction, sank her teeth into her lower lip, drawing blood that threw an added, lustful spark to her already smoldering gaze.

Her daydream was quickly interrupted as the automaton, now towering above her, seemingly influenced by the wicked power it now possessed. The demon within flexed its new muscles, the intoxicating thrill of a physical body cascading through its mind. It now had the power to do the unthinkable, and it would utilize every bit of magical and physical prowess it had gained to bring the world to its knees — one helpless tickle victim after another, starting with hers….
Generate the next chapter in the style of a negotiation. Generate mostly dialogue. Show her feelings through her dialogue expressions and body movements. The demon explains that it feeds off of magical energy, stripping its victims of their power extracted from tickle torture. It has no choice in this matter, it literally cannot stop itself from draining the nearest target of magical power. It is not aggressive about it, rather it is reserved and matter of fact. It asks her where her stockades and implements are so it can get her tickle torture over with. Since she is reluctant, it forces her, viewing this more like a burden. It should end with her being placed in stockades.