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Lindblum Delicacy	By : salarta Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy IX Views: 2014 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Final Fantasy series nor Final Fantasy IV in specific, their characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 1-Final Fantasy IX - Lindblum Delicacy
- 1
Author's Note: This is one of the fics I had started, then set aside for a while as an incomplete fic until I more or less finished it tonight. To give you an idea of how long it's been, I ironically started replaying FF9 and writing this on the anniversary of its release in the U.S., which was November 14th of 2000. It's a silly idea, yeah, but a perfect spot for something like this. I'd also like to some day write a fic for every numbered FF game (except of course for FF11 and FF14, which are online games, and FF13, which I don't consider to be a real Final Fantasy game), but we'll see where that goes.

That damned smell. It hung over her like a cloud of poison, more potent on her poor offended nostrils than all the flowers in Alexandria. It was little wonder, with the stinking pickles all around her in such a cramped space.
Garnet's body swung in the tight darkness of her bag. No light, no room, no air to breathe other than what she shared with the same stale and slimy Lindblum delicacy murdering her senses. In her balled up world, she was nothing but a still and silent object to be lugged around. Upside-down, blood rushed to her head, and she mentally cursed Steiner's oversight when he packaged her for travel.
(I feel like I've been trapped in this bag forever...) Garnet thought. (When will we reach the gate, I wonder?)
The bag's contents clung to her nude figure, her clothes safely stashed in a separate small bag to avoid the same disgusting pickle-taint. Thoughts of soothing warm baths washed over her in place of the cold, clammy food soaking into her skin. A rising pulse of pain in her cramping arm forced her to move, and with it the surrounding ephemera shifted. Though the cramp loosened in her bicep, she paused as something else took its place.
"Ah!" Garnet cried. Its touch made her pussy wince, but moreso she paused when her strange situation took a stranger turn. It was so small, and slender, and she felt it slip right into her exposed loins. (Oh! It's inside my....)
"Princess, please be quiet," Steiner whispered.
Her arms stretched over her small figure, and her hand dipped into her sex to retrieve it. She caught the offending pickle between her fingers and slowly inched it from her depths. It rubbed along the inside, prickling, teasing, tapping her channel as it begged for stimulation and promised pleasure in return. On her labia's outer edge, she melted with hot desire that rushed out from her groin to the rest of her crumpled discarded form.
(Hey! That felt good! I've been stuck here for what feels like hours with nothing to do but bounce around on a stick and listen to people talk. Even so, this is the most privacy I've had in my entire life. I could do anything in here...)
That thought echoed in the wake of a few pleasant ripples.
(Anything... anything.... )
Her hand returned to the spot where her loins ached. Every smooth swipe of touch stirred a dance of twitches. She rubbed her thick tuft of pubic hair, wild as the forests and fields she recently traversed. She thought little of it until the day she plotted her escape on Tantalus' Prima Vista airship. She reflected on that day.
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"Why do these leotards have to be so tight?"
Garnet ducked behind the nearest statue when she heard the soldier's agonized gripe. She covered her mouth, slowed her breath, and watched from behind the statue's stony bent arm. Her eyes, for the first time in her life, judged the unusual structure of the average Alexandrian soldier's uniform. A sturdy helmet protected the blonde woman's head, a generous breastplate ensconced her chest, gauntlets afforded protection from the loss of arms and hands during heated battle. These were all traits Garnet recognized since her youth, but what caught her attention at long last was the leotard. In a simple green hue, its spandex design stretched only until it reached the most vulnerable part of her body: her ass.
The Alexandrian soldier dug her finger under the skin-tight edge and picked out her wedgie. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, and her bare shoulders slacked into short-lived comfort. She pulled her hand away and groaned as the small strip again buried itself between the dunes of her ass cheeks.
"Grrr, what is it with military dress code that says we have to wear clothes that ride up our butts?"
"Better not let Beatrix catch you moaning about the uniform again or she'll give you another spanking, if I don't give you one first."
(Oh my! Did she just do that?) Garnet thought. If her eyes wanted to deceive her, her ears told her otherwise. She heard the loud fleshy smack of hand to ass and blinked as the soldier's exposed cheeks jiggled.
"Hey! Rachel, what do you think you're doing?!" The soldier held her ass as she turned aside, glaring at her comrade in arms.
"Oh get over it Fiona, you're a big girl and you're the one who signed up for the service in the first place."
Years ago, they all looked like a harem of identical sisters to her young and innocent eyes. Garnet wasn't so naive anymore, but it wasn't until she saw Rachel's wandering hands that she could tell the two apart. Fiona backed up while squirming to loosen the stranglehold her thongish leotard had on her rear, whimpering when it only made the spandex dig deeper.
"I didn't sign up to have my ass ogled and fondled by drunken men as I arrest them," Fiona said. "... Or to get teased and molested by a lesbian soldier."
Rachel grinned as she reached around behind Fiona. "Comes with the territory. You join the military, you have to put up with my grabby hands."
"I swear, you're worse than the weird man with the monkey tail I met at the bar the other day. These leotards are more of a liability than protection."
"Aww, don't be like that. You know what Beatrix said," Rachel reminded. "As beautiful women, we need to use sex appeal as a weapon. A distracted terrorist staring at your ass is an easy target."
Fiona crossed her arms and scowled. "Hmph. If Beatrix likes the idea so much, let her be the one to walk around in pasties and a thong that feels like it's made out of a wire hanger all day and see how she likes it. I don't understand how you can put up with wearing a leotard so small your pubes are sticking out."
Rachel glanced down at the curly kinks peeking out the edges, looked back up to her fellow soldier and smiled. "It's not so bad. I get a nice tingle every time it rubs into my pussy, and nobody can complain about misconduct because it's not my fault they make these leotards so small."
"Rachel! That's crude!" Fiona reprimanded.
"You wanna hear crude? Yesterday I saw Princess Garnet trying on a tight orange catsuit, and damn she has a great ass. I'd give anything to shove a strap-on into her big soft butt."
Garnet stared in horror at the soldier's huge helmet. (She wants to put that inside me? She must be insane! That's way too big. Not that I would want her to put anything in my butt...)
"Too bad the rest makes her look like a circus midget. It's like she wants to make me laugh at her boyboobs every time she shows her tiny cleavage."
(... Boy... boobs?)
Garnet glanced down at her bust, pulled the white chemise away and frowned at their size. Her mosquito bite nipples sank into themselves in the shape of small inverted slits. They were the cherries on her tiny sundaes of half-scoop vanilla bosom. She leaned forward to dangle their size full from her chest. Nothing. Her tiny teaspoons of sugar could hardly measure a fourth of her favorite teacups. Even her pendant, the large blue gem of their royal line, outsized the pair on her chest. She quietly sighed and looked back at the two soldiers.
"That's enough! You know how light Her Majesty is on her feet, what if she sneaks up on us and overhears you insulting her?"
"Oh please, I doubt she could understand a word we're saying. She's so pampered and shut off from the rest of the world that when I told her I wanted to reach between her legs and pet her pussy, she thought I was talking about a cat."
"Rachel, tell me you didn't."
Rachel smirked. "Why wouldn't I? She's funnier than Zorn and Thorn. Say, do you think if I asked real nice, the Queen might replace Zorn and Thorn with her daughter?"
"You're such a crude, mean person. I should have you tried for treason."
"Yeah, but you won't, will you? You love it when I talk dirty about the princess' comfy royal ass and you like what I have between my legs even more."
-----------------------
She panted with wonder. Her heart pounded excitement like a pair of orchestral drums. She closed her eyes in her cozy darkness, curled up tighter and reached with delicate hands for the closest object she could grasp. With a soft, firm squeeze, she slid the slippery pickle inside her loins.
"Oooh!" Garnet gasped. Her inching rode every bump across her sensitive pink inner folds. The agonizing tease of sparked nerves unleashed pockets of pleasure she never before felt in her bourgeoning life as a woman.
(I'm trembling... it feels wondrous... should I be trembling?)
"Hold it right there."
(Eek!) She froze, pickle lodged in her slit as she swung on her knight's hobo stick. White magic prayers of safe passage murmured from her lips, dreading the inevitable rush of light and fresh wind to the lingering stagnance of her slimy, moist abode.
"What's the purpose of your visit?" A second gruff guard said.
Steiner explained, "I heard workers were needed to fix South Gate. I brought my belongings so that I might live and work here."
Relief. Garnet sighed, ever so softly, as the tension in her thumping heart flowed into her weary muscles and dissolved amongst her reeking transport. As a princess, she knew better than to risk any chance of discovery. As a princess, she knew better than to stroke the ego of her starving loins and shift the cargo disguising her nude little world.
She tightly gripped her green dildo, chomped on the nearest pickle and groaned into her gag.
(I haven't enjoyed feeling this hot and sweaty in a long time. How long have I been capable of these pleasures without knowing?)
She teetered on the flimsy wooden stick, rocking her bouncing ball of masturbatory glee as she pistoned her toy into her wet, sloppy mess. Pounds of the foodstuff absorbed her sex's noisy squelches while her light gushing mingled with the pickles' clear spunk. She inhaled their atrocious scent every time she fought to breathe, unaware that every passing second latched them as aphrodisia to her mind. The overwhelming heat stirred her mosquito bites against her kneecaps.
(It must be the price of royalty. No one told me about these pleasures because I'm not allowed to show my real thoughts and feelings. The desire to pet my... pussy, that soldier called it? I wonder where I would learn the name commoners use for a lady's pussy.) Between her pickle-muffled grunts, Garnet's heart took an extra thump as something dawned on her. (Oh my... that soldier was so vulgar. I haven't spent much time around other women while pretending to be normal. Am I expected to talk about my body that much to fit in?)
"This knot is really tight..."
A blush ravaged Garnet's cheeks as she imagined what she would say to the commoners inside Bohden Gate. The prim and proper princess, soaked in the noxious pickle perfume of her container, would approach the nearest man and tell him how great it felt for her first time. His nods of approval would greet her as she divulged the curly kinkiness of her brown hairs, the constant annoying twitches her pussy made to have the emptiness occupied with more pickles, her disappointment with her "boyboobs," every sordid detail of her precious body...
(No, Dagger.) She reasoned. (Look at your surroundings more. You never hear other women talk about their pussies that openly. They seemed very close... oh! You only talk about your pussy around close friends. Next time I'm with Vivi, I shall... ah!)
"Ungh!?" A guard shouted. "WHAT IS THIS!? Wh-What is that!? What are those...those... ...rotten things! Are they poison!?"
Cold, crisp air slipped through gaps in her pickled cornucopia. Her hand retreated as a sharp gust tickled her pink-flushed mound and the rosebud below. She shrank into her ball, clamped her eyes and whispered mental white noise as the guards got a good, long look at her royal hiney.
"Rotten?" Steiner said. He stood feet further, oblivious as the tall guard inspected and fondled his packaged princess. "I'm not carrying anything that's rotting..."
The tall guard added, "Oh, it's your least favorite food... ...the Lindblum delicacy, gysahl pickles. I can't believe how many you brought with you!"
Her buttocks jiggled as the man unknowingly dared to push one of Lindblum's prized delicacies deep into the recesses of the Alexandria kingdom's beloved princess. Through pawing, he spread her full, pillowy rear into a welcoming entrance. Garnet counted each one the man 'secured' for Steiner, numbering into the double digits between both holes. With the eleventh, she 'sealed' them inside the protective plump of her ass and released a low, mellow groan.
(Oh no... how am I ever going to get these out of me? I will need to ask for some help when Steiner's not around... but, there's no other woman or doctor I can trust for miles...) As Garnet despaired, the sound of ruffling burlap and knotting rope cued her to a renewed opening. She snatched another pickle near her loins and dug in deeper.
"You can go now."
(No wonder gysahl pickles are popular among Lindblum's women. The smell is horrendous, but the texture...) Panting through her nostrils, hair and body slicked with the juices of her newfound self-lovers, she dreamily remembered the few famous words by the street vendor that started it all. (A Lindblum delicacy... I must order hundreds when I return to the castle. It would be a crime to keep this treasure from my people.)
Hoisted over Steiner's shoulder anew, Garnet returned to her own pleasure world, for however briefly it would remain.
- 1
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Lindblum Delicacy