Tickle Witch Novels & Stories

"That's a bit hypocritical coming from someone who continuosly stomped on the spot she fell through, trying to 'activate' the portal." Allistor's cheecks reddened slightly but he smiled goodnaturedly and turned to Helena. ''Jokes aside, what you did was beyond incredible and I have been unable to get it out of my mind. How did you acquire such a gift?" He questioned with a familiar curiousity sparkling in his dark eyes. The brunette woman shrugged, trying to appear casual and suave to him. ''I have had it since birth and I'm still learning how to control, which is why what happened last night happened."

She knew she had very bad luck and often met misfortune but today, this misfortune was a thousand, no a million folds worse than ever! Mark, the guard, and the bruised servant had the same aghast face. Mark and the guard had a grimmer face as they couldn't believe the collar made by the sorcerer of the tower for a very expensive price could come undone in a few seconds. Not only that he was able to enter the protection magic circle that was placed on the stage, but he could also turn the magical device into ashes! "Should we go now, my puppy?" Mike said as he spread his palm for the girl to take in.

For a few moments, I thought she would run away from me. Although she is a powerful witch, even an ordinary wolf can snatch her life away when caught by surprise, let alone an alpha wolf. The witches’ bodies are not so different from humans; their physical abilities are the same; they can get hurt and die at the same rate if not for a healing spell of witches, but Agatha cannot heal herself; it is one of the curses of a white witch.

Ilyra explained, her voice gentle but firm as she held the old woman’s hand. "The Nexus? You're both fools if you think you can just walk into the center of the marsh and take what you want, because the path is guarded by the Drowned Witches now," Hestia said, and she looked up at me with a grim, knowing smile that chilled me to the marrow. "They are the spirits of the women your pack threw into the black pools during the raids, and they’ve spent the last twenty years waiting for a Rauvenhollow wolf to come back so they can pull him down into the silt and keep him there forever."

A male witch came racing into the room, magic buzzing around him. With a growl, Joel leapt off the table and tackled him to the ground. The next one to come in, Gail hit by the latch of the leash. The witch gasped, holding his now bleeding cheek and eyes wide. Gail swung the leash over her head, muttering the incantation, and hit the witch again, knocking him out. A third witch came racing in, followed by a fourth. Joel took one and Gail grabbed her bat, swinging it at the other one. She missed, and the witch hit her with a ball of energy.

Witches were known for their formidable abilities, and I couldn't risk underestimating this one. Carefully disrupting the edges of the dark circle, we extracted the old witch without triggering any alarms. The room maintained its eerie stillness as we commenced the process of restraining her. The goal was clear: neutralize any means she might have to invoke her powers. We started by sealing her lips with tape, ensuring that she remained unable to utter any incantations or spells upon waking. Next, her hands were bound securely, each finger halted to prevent any intricate movements. Tapes crisscrossed her legs, rendering them powerless and unable to execute any mystical gestures. Lastly, her

“I’d better come back later.” I flushed with embarrassment. “He was just tickling me. Since childhood I’ve been terrified of tickles.” “Ah, that,” Diana pouted, then with a mischievous witchy grin she reached out and tickled my side. “Stop right there!” I managed to mumble between laughs, pushing her slightly—but she fell onto her bottom. “Hey! Don’t mess with a witch. I’m going to get you,” she said, sending a handful of pink glitter dust my way. In one swift motion, I sent it back, crashing it right over her head so she ended up in a sparkling glitter shower.

Whatever tickles your pickle. The witch, Citra, is a waiflike, small slip of a girl. She is pale skinned, with hair that is nearly white. She had reached the witch age of majority, 18, and had declared that the Meteoric Rise Pack was corrupt. She had done everything that she could to get Nathan out of there and away from Julian. That was how she was brought to the oracle, Michael. Her goddess, Hecate, had sent her there. It made sense, since Selene had said that she was working with Hecate.

he agrees with me as he holds up a clean bone saw, dangling it above the body, moving it up and down as he talks as if he were holding a book or some other random object and not something designed to cut through layers of flesh and bone. “What happened to her,” I ask as we get close enough for me to see the holes in her wings and her still chest. She is either dead or in her yearly hibernation cycle, although considering how warm it is outside, I am guessing it is the former, not the latter. “Oh, Tinkerbell here,” he smirks at his own joke. “Funny you should mention your husbands. Your leprechaun prince has been a real pain in my side since I brought you home from the hospital. He keeps send

“Their membership was revoked and they were kicked out. I believe the white witch was enraged that day.” “Did you just say white witch?” Dylan checked. “Yes, that is how the owner is referred to.” “Are you talking about a real witch or something?” “To be honest, I don't know, but what I noticed was that she only wore white clothes and had white hair.” “Is she really that old?” “She appears to be very young; no one knows anything about her. She's a mystery, but she's also the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.” He couldn't believe such a thing existed, but whatever it was, it wouldn't hurt to see for himself.