Tickle Princess (F/F)

Tickle Princess

"To the stock's, with her!" Sentenced the young princess from her throne. It was a boring duty, being princess of a kingdom. The only power she had, was to deal with commoners whom the king didn’t have time to speak to, and that meant punishing the local villains. Never allowed to leave the small castle, much less the kingdom, the princess had no idea what she sentenced people to. Of course she had, over time, learned which invoked more fear into people, and punished accordingly. But to her, these people she sentenced were animals; yes, they could easily over throw her with numbers, and they did serve her, but they were animals none-the-less. Unfortunately she had to deal with the local urchins.

The royal guard drew the red haired woman to her feet, and walked her out of the throne room. The loud slam of the iron doors proved their absence. "Your majesty, if I may?" spoke a meek advisor to the princess's right. She waved him on, "Your majesty, the townspeople speak of revolt. Thou art a villain in their eyes. Might I suggest, perhaps, being more lenient unto..."

"Silence! If they art to commit such plagues as robbery, and rape, then they must be prepared for proper punishment! It be cruel, maybe, but for every one punished, ten more will consider their actions with greater thought." she spoke, with a slight tinge of anger. Advisor, indeed! What does he know of running a country! she thought to herself. Though she thought such heated thoughts, her face never changed from the cool, never changing, regal face of a queen. One must sentence death to people with a straight face, showing no emotion, 'lest one's enemies are to take advantage of this.

"Nay," began the advisor. How rude of him, to ignore my title! Was the only thought on her mind, but she kept her calmness and listened. "Thou art to cause rebellious thoughts among thy vassals. Show mercy, or thou shalt condemn thyself as thou hast condemned so many." Revolt. The fool advisor speaks of revolt, and of course, he would come to power, being an advisor, and knowing how to handle the countries affairs. A revolt would be a great boon for him. The princess glanced at the two guards by the door without appearing to have glanced at all. Stone faced, they had seen so much needless bloodshed, and those eyes could probably bore holes into a rock. And though they appeared neutral, they still had thoughts of their own, she continued to think, but no, they are loyal to me at the moment.

"Off with his head," she sentenced, "On counts of rebellion!" The princess smiled her sick, cold smile, the one she used when sentencing, to throw fear into the soon to be punished. Astonishment showed on the advisors face, pure astonishment. His gaze never left the princess, even as he was dragged out by one of the guards to be put to the headsman’s block. Astonishment, and accusation, she decided. He wasn't guilty, she knew that now, but let her next advisor know that should he speak of revolt, he too, will be beheaded.

And so it went for a few days, those accursed urchins were brought to be punished, and punished they were. It wasn't in her heart to kill a woman though, so she set lesser punishments to them. A day or two in the stocks, for whatever the villagers had their minds to do to her, a flogging maybe, but the stocks for women normally caused the most panic. Of course being at the mercy of those whom you've wronged must be the most torturous penalty, she had decided long ago. That was the most common sentence she gave out, since for every woman she dealt it to, they never committed another crime.

It was five days later that her new advisor had arrived. A sickly, pale looking man, who seemed to have a habit of dry washing his hands. His neck was bent forward, and he looked much like a vulture with his black eyes. He truly looked sickly, with the long but few strands of hair going every which way, he had the appearance of an old fool. But he was assigned as an advisor, and therefore must be intelligent to a degree.

The sickly man gazed around at his new station of work. And then his gaze fell upon the princess. Studyingly he looked up and down, studying her thoroughly. But of course, thought the princess, this must be his first time gazing upon royalty. That was how people reacted upon seeing royalty, they gazed in awe at the person in question's beauty, the beauty only a noble could possess. It was true she had long, waist length golden hair, and her jade green gem eyes had always drawn the eyes of every man in the room, except for her guards of course. And she had just turned 18, was in her prime, and had a shapely figure, with ample bosom. To finish her grand features her face had a heart shape to it, and her eyes slightly tilted to her nose, quite like a cat. The princess was lost in her vision of herself for quite a while, completely ignoring the advisor before her who gazed at her hungrily. She was brought back to the world by the advisor coughing slightly, trying to get the princess's attention no doubt.

The man could have been scrawny, and it would finish his description perfectly, but his advisor robes covered him completely, so she had no idea. "Thou art late, milord," she began, but was soon cut off by the new advisor.

"And I beg pardon, milady, 'tis not my fault. Thy roads art crowded with peasants, 'tis a hard task this morrow, traveling." he spoke with the most sincere voice the princess had ever heard. She could not help but feel sorry for the man being waylaid.

"I understand." was all she said, though, before the small man began again.

"I've heard rumors on my way, milady, and putting them together, I fear that thy peasants feel distrust towards you, calling your majesty a cruel tyrant," explained the little man. The princess leaned forward, intrigued by his knowledge, considering this was the first day for him. The words cut her, and she felt sorely sorry for casting such cruel punishments upon her vassals. The advisor had been a mediator before, and knew the art of words well. Using his tongue he could easily convince people of things they would have thought un-true otherwise, but no one had known this when he had applied for the job of advisor. After all, he was new to the kingdom. "If I may suggest, your highness?" he asked, and gave a quizzical look to the princess.

She came back to the world from her deep thoughts, and waved him on. "I would recommend that thou walk about thy villages, talk to thy vassals, offer them alms, and the such. This may raise morale. A civil war would throw thou from the throne." he explained quickly. The advisor had heard of his precedents beheading, and knew to be careful over this subject. But he also knew he had to be swift, strike to the point quickly, and hope that he could talk her from anger.

The princess saw the danger the advisor spoke of, and his words affected her in ways she never noticed. Thus is the way of a mediator, to talk people into doing something, and them thinking it was their idea to begin with, and believing it’s in their best interest. "Yes, of course. We shall do this, tomorrow perhaps?"

The advisor smiled a secret smile, knowing he had succeeded in his task. Assuming he was pleased with her decision, the princess ignored this secretive smile, and listened to the advisors approval, "Of course, milady, I'll personally gather the guards and plan this myself." With a slight bow of the head, and shake of the hands, he left the throne room. The princess watched him go, and then noticed the pale sunset through one of the chamber windows. Ruling a kingdom is long work, tiring work, she decided, and went off to bed. The only sounds in her throne room were the crackle of fire in the braziers, and the hush-hush of her slippered feet on the silken carpet.

The next morn she awoke, and went to the stables to find the advisor and a few guards she had never seen before waiting on her. Supposedly the advisor, who at least went by the alias of Roland, had planned to go to a village about 15 miles off. Not the closest one, but he claimed that this was the village closest to revolt, so she rode with him for half the day to the small village. During the ride she managed to take a look at the guards, but couldn't remember ever seeing them around the castle before. It struck her as odd, but she didn't think much on it. Of course Roland would know who would be best, and he must have picked these men for a reason, so she trusted them. They passed many small farms with farmers who eyed the traveling party askew. Of course, she thought, they must not have seen such a party in ages, and must think it weird. The thought never dawned on her that they were glaring at her out of anger.

It was about mid-day that they arrived at the village, which she found out was called Galendale. At first the villagers and peasants eyed her askance too, much like the farmers. When they saw Roland and the guards though, they stopped the glaring and went about their business. Homeless children who ran up to see the princess and touch her pony were given alms, and the princess passed out compliments and spread good will among them.

And then they reached the town square. Interestingly enough it appeared as though half the village had gathered here. Must have heard of my arrival, was the only thought on the princess's mind. They rode to the center of the town square, where Roland dismounted and urged her to do the same. As she was dismounting she decided to look around and evaluate the land and people. The people looked expectant, and well they should; nobles don’t ride out through villages often. She noticed the cobblestones were worn from many traveling parties beforehand, and decided that this was indeed an old village. Or at the least, an old town square. A few venders, hawking their wares, were crowded next to buildings made of wood, and some of stone. Stone houses, or rather merchant houses she realized, coming to the conclusion that they would be the only people wealthy enough to use stone for housing.

Finally, she noticed two pairs of stocks in the center of the square. Perhaps many of the villagers she punished came from this town, for there were two of them, not one, and they were in the center of the whole village. Or maybe the town just enjoyed giving out punishment to the wicked, she pondered. Whatever the reason, she realized that she must have been daydreaming over these ideas, because she noticed that her guard and Roland were waiting for her by the stocks. Muttering to herself about grime and dirt, she lifted her dress so it wouldn't get too dirty, it was good silk after all, and picked her way among the puddles and mud to the center. And then Roland spoke.

"People of Galendale, before thee stands thy princess!" and then he towards waved her. A speech. Of course, she would give a speech, but she wasn’t informed and hadn't had time to prepare.

She stepped up, and started to speak, but was forced to scream. Someone had grabbed her from behind and picked her up. Struggling, she made an attempt to escape, but the mans hands were like iron, she couldn't escape their grip. Harder yet was it to restrain her giggles. Her skin was soft, she knew, and the man had grabbed her around the waste, and it tickled slightly. She only giggled once or twice, but she couldn't hide her smile. Within seconds of her being hefted upward, a second pair of arms grabbed her legs, and together they hefted her up and towards the stocks. The second man wasn't behind her though, and she could see him clearly, and she gasped. It was one of her guards!

As she kicked and bucked, trying to escape from her captors, she was carried over to the now open stocks. Anticipation lingered in the air. So, she thought, they were expecting this the whole time. Then what, she wondered. It took nearly five minutes to fully restrain her in the stocks because she fought so much, but eventually her hands were drawn well above her head with ropes, so that her arms were pointed upward, and her legs through the stock holes. She noted that her knees were touching each other, the stocks kept them that close. A ripping sound filled the air, and she noticed her pink dress was being ripped gently from her body. Full of anger, she realized how dire the situation was, and began to scream, "Roland, what dost thou wish? Money? Gems? We have many riches! Just let me out of here!"

But of all the reactions Roland could have given, he did something the princess never suspected. He looked right into her eyes, and laughed. Just laughed. "Really, dost thou think I want money? Snot nosed brat, we are to teach thee a lesson, and who better to teach it than those wrongfully punished?" he taunted. By now she had only her shift left to protect her body from the piercing eyes of the crowd. The wind blew, and though she still had that, it felt like she was indeed nude. It was then that Roland snapped his fingers, and fell back into the crowd. Something is going to happen now, she thought, and became full of panic as she tested her bondage. She was completely trapped, and at the mercy of those she had punished cruelly. There would be no mercy, whatever they did.

"What dost thou plan to..." she gulped. She was terrified, and it must have shown, because one of her guards laughed at her. The thump of heavy boots on the cobblestones approached her, and then everything became deathly still for a few seconds. Suddenly she felt a tingle in her right armpit, bare now without her dress. It was beyond her to hold in her loud laughter now, and she couldn't move, she was completely trapped to whatever mercy the people had left. For nearly 10 minutes she laughed loudly, looking around for help, but no one so much as budged. Then he stopped, and backed away.

Roland looked at the cruel princess, glad that this small town had picked him to server revenge onto this thoughtless child. She laughs like a madwoman, and they are only tickling her right armpit, he thought to himself. By the end of this all, she'll be a wreck. When the so-called guard finally decided to back away, she did look a wreck, but was still lovely. The moment he had seen her, he knew that tickling would be the best way to handle this, what with her silky smooth skin. Seeing her now only made it more obvious. Never before had he seen armpits as deep as hers, or heard a laugh as great. Her break was over, and now her real torture was to begin. Roland himself approached her, and her face contorted into a mixture of rage and terror. "Yes, we are going to tickle thee," he began, "'Tis the same punishment thou hast bestowed upon many others, and thou shalt receive the same." With that, he clapped his hands. This time, both the guards took an armpit, and Roland reached towards her ribs. The difference between her laughter before, and now, was dramatic. "Tickling, what kind of punish...Ahhh! Ahhhh! Ha-ha-ha-ha, nooo sto-ha-ha-ha-op!" she begged. Another ten minutes of this, give or take a few, then we'll leave her to whoever wants to tickle her.

The princess was going insane now, and could no longer focus on anything. There was no way for her to hold back the laughter that was now flowing from her mouth. With six pairs of hands groping her, spidering expertly across her stomach and armpits, and no way to escape, she became filled with terror. And yet she laughed, ironically. Though there was probably no chance behind it, she begged again, "Ple-he-he-he-ease! N-ho-ho-o mo-ho-ho-re! I'm to-he-he-he-he-he to-he-he-he-he-he, too ticklish!!" was all she could get out, before she began laughing as hard as she could again. They didn't stop, and had no plan to stop. The tickling continued relentlessly.

This is quite fun, Roland admitted to himself. Too bad the ten minutes are almost up, she'll need a break again, so that they can get the most out of this punishment. Amid her struggling, the princess's slippers became quite lose; they weren’t meant to stay on the feet anyway, with no backs to them. Roland was getting quite the show; the princess truly did have beautiful feet. What, with the perfect arches, milky white soles, and the perfectly shaped heels that were being shown spasmodically as her feet twisted and turned from the torture, Roland became quite interested. Soon her right slipper was dangling on her toes, being the only thing keeping it on. Yes, he decided, she has perfect feet, small as they are. He estimated her shoe size to be around 5 or 6, and was quite intrigued by the perfect foot in front of him. Then she clenched her toes in agony, not realizing the folly she had just caused herself. Her right slipper fell off, revealing her entire foot, bare now. With pink paint on her toenails, and close fit toes to match, she had perfect feet. The arch was just high enough, and the soles were wrinkled nicely. Roland knew what opportunity sat before him, and he waved the guards to stop the tickling torment. Again, the princess was allowed to catch her breath, and as soon as she could she began to beg, "No more! Please, no hehehe, no more! I can't take anymore! I wont hehe, won't sentence a hehehe, a punishment so cruel in the future hehehe." Giggling throughout the entire sentence from the tickling beforehand, no doubt.

Though he felt some sympathy for the princess, he knew his duty, and smiled coldly at her. Thus, he spoke to the crowd, "What dost thee say, peasants?"

The roar that followed said everything; she needs more.

He continued, while pointing to the now bare foot, "Obviously, the princess wants us to tickle her feet too, as she has removed her right slipper for us," the princess's gasp said it all for him. She laughed it off, she realized now, and seemed to realize now that this was no game, she wasn't going to be released. The new horror on her face spoke to him that her feet were extremely ticklish, and he had guessed right to push in this direction. So he reached down to her left foot, with its slipper still on, and began to slowly draw it off. Obviously this alone tickled her; she was giggling again, and started to beg, "Not me fee-he-he-he-eet! Not there! Please, I beg thee! Tickle me all night, anywhere, just not my feet!” the precise thing he wanted to hear. Horror covered her face, fear, as she must have felt her slipper continue to leave her soon to be bare foot. The thought of tickling her perfect feet really struck pure terror into her, because she continued to beg "Please? Anything, anything, just not my feet!" He intentionally brushed the heel against her toes, sending a shiver up her body, then placed the slipper on top of the stocks, to taunt her.

Pure terror filled the princess now, and the only thought in her was that they were going to tickle her feet. She knew she was absolutely ticklish there, and was mortally afraid to have this done, but begging had no effect. The slipper, her only protection from tickle torture on her bare soles and toes, was set in front of her so she could see into it. So close, so very close, and so far, she thought. Then she felt what she dreaded for the past minute, the electrifying touch, the tickling, on her bare, soft, sensitive feet. She gasped, then screamed loudly, it tickled that much. And it was only a touch, no major tickling.

Roland drew his hand back instantly upon hearing the princess's scream. Nothing before had caused that, and he had barely touched her, let alone tickled her! This truly would be a treat! But 8 women, the only reason he could tell they were women was by their shapely figures, pushed their way through the crowd, all of them wearing a thick brown woolen cloak, with hoods covering their faces, and the capes of the cloaks covering most of their body. Only sandeled, pretty feet stuck out at the bottom of each approaching cloak. Swiftly they approached the stocks that held the princess. Sighing, he drew his hand away from the princess's creamy white foot. Some treats must wait, he thought to himself.

"Hail to thee," spoke what must have been the leader, a taller than average woman who stood in the front. As if they had trained, or at the very least and most likely prepared for this encounter, they each drew their hands to their hoods and drew them back at the same time, each revealing a face more lovely than the last. Lovely, that is, if you liked peasants, but Roland had grown up as a peasant, so he saw the beauty in them. The supposed leader spoke again, "May we?" she spoke as she drew her hand waist length, palm up, and waved it horizontally, showing that they wanted to tickle the princess. Not to count the fact that Roland himself wanted to work over the ever so tender feet of the princess, he also had no idea who these women were, or why they wanted to do this.

He asked anyway, "If I may...w...," was all he got out before an explanation came from the mouth of the lead woman, a smile forming on her near pretty face. Brilliant shoulder length red hair framed her face, and her light almost golden brown eyes seemed to sparkle with malice.

"We, all of us, were sentenced to the same punishment by this," she pointed to the princess, "and wish vengeance. If we may,” The second time, it wasn't a question, it was a statement. The 7 other women took what looked like planned positions around the princess, and the princess looked in horror back at the women. Yes, she remembered them now, and was filled with terror, knowing that before there was some mercy involved, that now there wouldn’t be. The leader woman, the red head, pushed Roland out of the way, and took her place at the princess's right foot. Roland didn't want to argue, knowing he was outnumbered, and just backed away into the crowd.

The princess, though it seemed possible, was more filled with terror than before when Roland had discovered her feet. These women, they had looked framiliar when they were approaching, for she could see up into their hoods at the time, but when the red haired woman spoke she recognized them. And now she was terrorfied. Even before, Roland was her vassal, and he would give her breaks and the such, he didn’t want to torment her terribly. But the princess knew the women around her, drawing feathers from seemingly nowhere, until each woman had one feather in hand, weren't her friends, they wanted to see her suffer. Then her big toes were tickled horribly, with what felt like strings in-between each of her toes. After the horrible tickling was done, she was left giggling for minutes, until she tried to wriggle her feet. They didn't tickle me; she realized then, they tied my toes to the metal ring in the center of the stocks! This would leave her unable to wiggle her feet at all, to escape any of the punishment to come! Oh, my poor beautiful feet, was the only thing she could think of for long minutes. A horrible thought indeed, these women were really going to torture her.

"Look at her, she's mortally afraid!" all of the surrounding women chuckled in amusement. The princess felt tears run down her cheeks, knowing the pains, or rather, the laughter she was about to endure. Counting the odds, she found two women for each of her feet, another woman for each armpit, and two for her mid areas. And each with a long, stiff white feather, she reminded herself. Each of them had a sickly smile of vengeance on her face. And Roland had disappeared into the crowd, she noticed.

She saw it more than felt it, the first tickle. One of the women around her stomach area began to slowly trace a finger around where her navel was, causing the princess to contort with laughter. Drawing small circles around her navel, and occasionally dipping the fingernail in, this alone was starting to drive the princess insane. Then another hand joined her, but this one moving swifter, all fingers spidering her middle. Then the first hand started doing the same, until the princess felt herself screaming, begging for mercy. "No-ho-ho, ple-he-he-he-ease, no more! NO MORE!" she begged, to no avail. She a feather begin moving up and down both of her armpits now, sending a new, electrifying feeling down her spine, and soon she wasn't able to laugh any longer. Oh, her mouth was wide open, and she tried to scream, to yell for help, but nothing came out.

The red haired woman bent over and breathed into the princess's face, her breath smelling faintly of garlic, and spoke, "You see princess, after my punishment of tickling in the stocks, I gathered these women to get revenge. We, over the past week, 'borrowed' local girls and studied their bodies, studying ticklishness itself. I'm glad to say the experiments were a success, and trust me, you will get the worst tickling you have ever received from us!" Then it happened. The feathers began to draw around her arches and soles, her heels and toes, and in-between her toes. She bucked, she screamed as loud as she could for help, but no one replied. Tears began to stream down her face, then the fingers. Oh, the fingers! As if the feathers weren't bad enough by themselves, but 20 fingers now stroked and caressed, and spidered across her arches and insteps and the rest of her sole expertly. They truly had studied tickling, the princess realized then. She no longer could keep her eyes open, but rather squeezed them shut. Tears still fell from her eyes though, as she silently laughed, begging God for escape from her punishment. The feathers were nearly a foot long, white, stiff and tickled madly.

She couldn't count any of the fingers movements as they slid around her mid section, down her armpits, and across her feet. Though at times she could, such as when they softly scratched her toes, wafted the feathers in-between them and across them, scratched her heels ever so softly and ever so antagonizingly, and as they occasionally drew symbols of a sort on her bare, helpless feet. It didn't matter much as to what they did to her feet, though. Her feet were small, and very lovely she had to admit, but with the 4 women's fingers and the feathers combined made it so that every centimeter of her feet felt the tingling sensation all the time. And she couldn't wiggle her toes, couldn't protect her feet in any way, making it that much more horrible. For nearly a half hour, the tickling sensations plagued her, until she fell to a forgiving darkness, and fainted...

What felt like days later, she awoke in a windowless horse drawn coach. Though it was pitch black, she sensed another person in the carriage, but dared not say anything. When she came to completely, she still felt the tingle from being tickled everywhere on her body, but surprisingly, she wore a new dress, and her slippers had thankfully been returned to her soft, beautiful feet. And then she heard the framiliar voice of Roland in the darkness.

"Ahh, my majesty, thou art awake at last!" he spoke; with the sincerest voice the princess could ever recall hearing. She almost felt enough pity to forgive him for his wrongs. Almost.

"What thou hast done is inexcusable, an."

"And I beg thee for forgiveness, and that you co-operate with me," interrupted Roland. "Put trust in me, for I only wish to save thee thy kingdom." The man did have a way with his words, and at least it was over, she thought.

"Thou art forgiven." She managed to speak before the carriage came to a dead stop. Light filled the small carriage, blinding the princess. Moments later when her sight came back to her, it wasn't the castle walls she saw, but the cobble stones of another town square, complete with its own pair of stocks. The 8 women who had tickled her what seemed days ago stood by the stocks, a few holding buckets of water, or something that appeared to be water at least, and each of the remaining four holding a goat by a rope leash.

"Twas but one small villa we convinced, and there are many others who have had families wrongly prosecuted. They too wish to see vengeance..." Roland explained. Immediately after a strong pair of arms gripped the princess's tiny body and pushed her towards the stocks. Within minutes, she was being sponged with the salty smelling water from underarms to toes, and her last thought before the goats were released to torture her was that she would find someone else to prosecute the peasants in the future.

A cute story. Thanks for sharing.

Nice!