And it was supposed to be all so simple.

Princess Myrcella had always been a curious child. As part of the royal buneary line of the Zaikovoia, her curiosity had always been catered to. A smart little girl, she would spend her free time in the library, reading up on history, natural philosophy and mathematics.

And when she grew older, she would excel and daze her tutors during the days. And during the nights, she would sneak off into the gardens, accompanied by her cousins, and make their escape to the royal hunting ground.

When she had come of age, she had a mastery on the natural sciences and a good understanding on the social ones, with a deep appreciation of theology and a love/hate relationship with etiquette and ethics.

Both a pleasant conversationalist, as well as a viciously cunning manipulator, she showed great potential as a leader. Enough so, that one day her father decided to send her as an envoy.

“You are growing up to be a fine young woman. And one day, you will be in charge of this kingdom. I believe it's time for you to get a grasp on politics. As you know, we amount to a large island nation, but our reach spreads vast. Throughout our many colonies, we are loved, feared and hated. In a month, I will send you, along with my grand advisor. You will observe how he deals with the local governors. And your presence there will be purely as a sign of good will. Don't look so upset. After all, you will be visiting many exotic lands. And this is only a learning experience for you. I'll expect you to be on your best behavior."

With a bit of a fuss, princess Myrcella finally conceded and, in a month, she set sail with the grand advisor and some of her personal bodyguards.

The first week was unbearable. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. It took her some time to get used to the constant rocking of the boat. And even more time to get used to most of the ridiculous rules aboard the ship.

But the captain had told her.

“Every rule on the ship is written with blood."

And so, she learned not to question it. After the first week, she had picked up a few new interest – the practical aspects of sailing, navigation and star-reading. She had learned to tie knots, how to spot land, how to fish, and even, to even her own surprise, how to cook.

After about a month of sailing, they had reached their first destination. She tried to pay attention during the meeting, but it was extremely dull. The spoke of crops and taxes and holidays and it wasn't in any interesting context at all.

But she enjoyed her walks through the town. As usual, she was surrounded by her bodyguards. Most of the crowds that would gather around her would cheer her and yell her names. But she did see some individuals with a darkness in their eyes. Cloaked raichus glaring at her from a distance. Spearows crowing profanities at her. It was an unusual sight.

Her travels continued on. And with each new colony visited, she would get a bit more involved with the topics discussed, not overstepping her boundaries. And once again, with each new locale, she would see ill-wishers. But she paid them no mind. For there was nothing that could be done. If they didn't wish to break bread with her, surely, they wouldn't mind eating cake.

And one night, as she was sleeping in her quarters on the ship, she was rudely awoken.

Gagged, bondaged and blackbagged, she struggled much, to no avail.

She didn't see her assailants clearly, but they were most violent. Forcefully stuffing a rag down her throat just as she was about to scream, one of them pinning her to her bed. She struggled in vain, but his weight was much greater than what little strength she could muster. The second thug, grabbing her by the ankles, tied a rope around her legs. She was completely unable to move. Her hands too were tied and her head covered in a burlap sack.

And so, she was carried off.

Without being able to mutter a single sound or to defend herself, she was left wondering, frightened, why did nobody help her. Did nobody truly hear or see these brigands? Was she truly alone? Or was this part of some conspiracy?

She was carried over the shoulder and thrown into a boat, where she stood quietly, afraid to not awaken her captors' ire. But she was silently panicking. What was to happen to her? What vile and monstrous acts would these savages do to her? She tried to calm herself, repeating to herself that if they wanted her dead, she would be dead. And if they wanted anything more…unsavory…they could have had her way with her already. They were probably going to sue her as a bargaining chip. Hold her for ransom. Gain political power, or freedom, or just money. She repeated to herself over and over again, each time believing it a bit more. But it wasn't enough.

It felt like hours had passed. Her mind was already hazy from the shock and the lack of oxygen in the bag. Her limbs were going numb, the knots around them cutting off the circulation. She would try to move around, but she was to tightly bound. Her bones ached and the rope burned became something she could not ignore.

Time passed. She could have been ferried for hours, before they stopped. Once more she was thrown over someone's shoulder, her stomach being poked with each step. But she endured. She grit her teeth and repeated to herself that this will soon end. Everything will be in order and she will be returning home safe and sound.

“Take off the bag. We should show her around" a raspy, guttural voice chuckled.

The whiplash strained her stiff neck. It took Myrcella a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. Torches lit a stone hallway, massive oak doors, plated with iron, span forward, all evenly spaced.

She turned, seeing her kidnappers, covered in heavy armor, cloaked with black hoods, helmets covering their faces.

“You like what we did with the place?" her carrier asked.

She didn't answer. She couldn't muster the strength to answer. The fear was much too strong.

“Hey! Your highness! Dirk's talking to ya!" the second pokemon, who was walking beside them snapped at her, making her flinch. “Answer his fucking question!"

She winced. She opened her mouth, her jaw trembling, and stuttered out an inaudible response.

“i-i-i-“

“Speak louder!"

She shut her eyes as they began to tear up.

“I do…" she said, her voice cracking at the end.

“There we go. See, Dirk? She likes the place."

“You sure have your way with women, Sleed."

“What can I say? I'm a charmer" he said with gusto.

He lifted his harm, gently caressing Myrcella's check with a finger. She tried to move away, but there was nowhere to move. The cold metal sent shivers through her warm body.

“Oh…" Sleed said in a hush and low voice. “We are going to have fun with you…"

Both men laughed heartedly, with Sleed taking out a ring of keys and spinning it around his finger. The clacking of the keys echoed through the empty hallway, the noise piercing the princess's delicate ears.

Myrcella started quietly sobbing. She didn't want to show these criminals her fear, but she couldn't help herself. Once more, she told herself that they were only kidnapping her, that they will hold her for ransom and not touch a single hair on her body. She will be treated well. She was the king's daughter. The worse thing that these outlaws would do is feed her stale bread. That's right. Nothing more. Nothing. More.

The party stopped, Sleed finally grabbing hold of the spinning ring. With a loud clank the door was unlocked.

“Welcome to your new home, your highness." Dirk said, stepping forward into the chamber.

The princess finally managed to open her eyes. Moonlight shone brightly through the barred window into the damp, musky area. The sound of the waves crashing against rocks echoed from outside. Rusted chains hung from the walls.

“Put her on the bed" Sleed said while locking the door behind him.

Dirk's heavy steps were cushioned but the wet hey littered all over the floor. He placed Myrcella on matressless bed and pulled out his knife.

Her eyes grew wide.

“Please, d-don't do this." She started pleading. “My father, he, he, he is rich! He'll, he'll, he'll give you gold! As much as you want! If you don't hurt me! Please! Please!"

She started weeping.

“Aww…how cute." Dirk said, sliding his knife through the ropes of her hands. “The little princess thinks she can bargain with us."

Her hands were trembling. She had practically lost all feeling in them until now. They hurt worse than anything she had felt before.

Dirk grabbed her hands and pushed them back to the wall. Something clanked and once more she could not move properly, feeling cold iron around her wrists. There were wall mounted cuffs behind her. They gave her a little more freedom, but she could already feel her shoulders cramping up.

Dirk cut the ropes around her legs and Sleed placed them in a pillory.

“You ain't getting out of here that easy, princess." Sleed spoke, his nasally voice filled with ire and lust. “We've got strict orders on what to do with you. And I do quite believe we will be enjoying ourselves, won't we Dirk?"

Dirk didn't answer. He reached down, taking a box by the handle and opening it up. From it he took out two feathers.

“Whu-what?" Myrcella asked, panting.

Her heart could have broken out of her chest at that very moment. She couldn't breathe, only taking in shallow breathes, which were barely enough.

“Do you know what we are going to do with these?" Dirk asked.

And when Myrcella didn't answer, he motioned Sleed forward.

Sleed, grabbing the feather and twirling it in his fingers, kneeled down. With a quick stroke, he brushed the feather across her barefoot. She recoiled her foot back, curling her toes and hitting the pillory.

“Ticklish?" Sleed asked. “I'm so happy we didn't waste our time."

He made two strokes on her foot, causing her toes to curl up and once more she pulled back.

“Do you want in on this action?"

Dirk kneeled down and, without wasting any time, started tickling her with the feather. And that was her breaking point. She grit her teeth and violently pulled her leg back, constantly hitting the hard and splintery pillory. She wasn't about to give in. She wasn't going to let them see her laugh.

“No patience for foreplay, eh old chap?" Sleed snickered and unleashed his own barrage.

Their movements were quick and the strikes were gentle and each one felt like a laceration with an angel's feather. They didn't hurt. They couldn't hurt. But they set her entire nervous system aflame, making her convulse and writhe back and forth. And when she couldn't take it anymore, she finally laughed. And it seemed to please them. Her laughter could be confused for shrieks of pain. And she laughed without stopping, without breathing. With her entire strength, she tried to pull away, only causing her more pain, as she struggled to pull away from her immovable cuffs. Her sides hurt, but from laughter and her squirming, trying to pull herself free, stretching her muscles and tendons.

She laughed and screamed and she banged her body and head on the wooden bed and the kidnappers were relentless. They experienced a perverse joy from this. She knew what they wanted and she had given it to them. She had fully submitted. She was under their power.

The torment continued on, until her body cramped up, until her belly ached and until she all but lost her voice from laughing and screaming.

Finally, when they seemed satisfied, they stopped and she could breathe once more normally, or at least, as normally as she could muster.

“We'll be back for you again tomorrow. Get some sleep, princess. We've still got some time until our boss shows up."

And with that they locked the chamber.

And Myrcella was alone, exhausted, bruised and defeated. The pain in her wrists and ankles and ribs and abdomen told her that she couldn't fall asleep. But it wasn't long until she managed to ignore the pain and she drifted into a dreamless slumber by the sounds of the sea.