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The Trial (my first story)

Masked_tickler

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Jun 29, 2001
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As the story opens we find ourselves in the Court of King William ruler of Edinburgh. He is overseeing a Witch trial. The accused is an attractive petite young peasant girl with long blonde hair. The girl who goes by the name “blondie” stands in the center of the room with a Large Guard on each side of her. Her hands and ankles are shackled her tattered clothes are mere rags, but they manage to cover her well-endowed body. “Blondie” has been accused of Witchery and if found guilty will be put to death. There are numerous towns folk standing around as well as many of the Kings court. The King is seated on his throne. As we enter the King begins to speak…….

“Silence in the Court! Blondie you stand accused of Witchery, How do you plead?” the King states

Blondie replies, “Your most merciful majesty, I an innocent of the charge, I am but a poor peasant in your humble court and have no dealings with the likes of witches or witchcraft.”

The King speaks again, “Very well then let the trial begin, I will hear from those who have accused you.”

An elderly woman steps forward, “I saw her, I saw her, Dancing she was, by the light of the full moon in the forest not 2 nights ago. Only a witch would dance under a full moon.”

Then an elderly gentleman steps forward, probably the elderly woman’s Husband, “I heard her one day as I was walking towards town, she was chanting something as she picked wild flowers in the field. Truly a witch she is.”

Finally, a young woman shouts from the crowd, “She’s a Witch and I have Proof!”, she makes her way forward through the crowd. “She made this Doll for my little girl, it bares the Image of You Your Majesty, purely a doll she was going to use to hex you, Your Grace.”

“Blondie, these are strong accusations, what have you in your defense?” the King states

“Your Majesty, the evidence that these people have is very circumstantial, I was dancing because I was happy, my pet cat had just given birth to kittens that night. I was not chanting, but singing a song my mother used to sing to me as a child. As for the Doll, I did make it in your likeness, but not to hex you, just as a tribute to you.” replies Blondie.

The king sits back on his throne and ponders the argument, “You pose a good argument for such a young woman, I however am still not quite convinced of your guilt, nor your innocence. Therefore it is my decision that you be put to several tests, if you pass then you shall be acquitted, if you fail, then you will suffer the penalty.”

“Guards, take her to the Dungeon, I will be there shortly to administer the tests personally” the king orders.

The guards on each side of you grab your arms and lead you to the stairs to the dungeon; two other guards walk behind you preventing you from attempting to run away. The guards behind you have a sort of evil grin as do the ones holding your arms, though you are not sure why. You enter the dungeon and are led down a long hallway with rooms on either side. You are taken to a large room, lit with large torches in the corners. In the middle of the room is a small chair, you are told to be seated by one of the guards. In the room you can see a large rack next to one wall, on the other wall is a set of stocks, while on another wall are chains with shackles like the ones you have on. Beside the rack is a large cabinet with a large Gold lock on it. You start to tremble fearing what “tests” the King has in store for you. In the distance you hear what appears to be screams, but not screams of pain. Mixed with the screams appears to be laughter, you are somewhat confused by this in such an evil place. You hear footsteps approach, your heart starts to pound. The door opens and the King enters. The King is an attractive older man, in his mid to late 30’s; he’s well built and his hair is slightly gray with a matching beard and mustache. He has changed his clothes and no longer wears his Royal clothes, but more casual attire. His eyes are his attracting feature they are a ghostly blue gray. They can mesmerize or be sinisterly evil when needed. He enters the room and whispers to the guards for a moment, they all nod and then he approaches you.

“Now, blondie, You do realize the severity of the charges against you?” he says

You speak, “Yes Your Majesty, but I am innocent, truly I am.”

“We shall see, we shall see. Are you prepared to undergo the Tests in which I have in store?”

“I fear that I know not of the tests and therefore cannot begin to prepare, but if it will prove my innocence then I will do what I must.”

“Good, then we shall begin. Guards, prepare her for the first test.” The King orders

Two of the guards step forward and lift you to your feet, they remove the shackles on your wrists and ankles then lead you over to the wall where the other shackles hang. They lock your arms over your head and shackle your ankles apart, to the wall. Then they return to their positions by the door.

The King slowly steps towards you, and stands in front of you. You know your position and dare not look him in the eyes. He reaches out with one hand, takes your chin and lifts your head you are forces to look in his eyes. With his free hand he reaches inside your blouse through a hole that has been worn out over time. You feel his warm fingers and they lightly touch your ribs and armpit. You fight off a giggle, biting your lip. His fingers continue to glide over each rib as if he were searching for something. The sensation increases and you fight with everything not to laugh and giggle. The king notices your attempts not to laugh and increases his touch, making sure he tickles more and more with each touch. This torture continues for 5 minutes, though to you it feels like an hour, finally you can take no more and begin to giggle.

“Ah, me thinks that you have found this situation rather amusing?” the King asks

“No Your Majesty, not at all, my situation is Grave to say the least. Have I passed the test?”

“I’m afraid that I’m still not quite sure, you will have to endure further tests. Guards prepare her.”

The two guards approach you again, unlocking you from the wall, you are taken to the stocks and seated, they lock your ankles in and then place your wrists in a pillory above your head. Again you find yourself helpless. The king again approaches you, the guards stand close by this time. The King stands beside you again he reaches inside your torn blouse, but this time he uses both hands one on each side. His touch is electric, you close your eyes tight in a vain attempt to prevent the sensations of his touch, but it does no good. You are already weak from the earlier test and have little defense left, you instantly begin to giggle.

“hehehehehehehehehehehehe”

“You seem to be enjoying this”, the King says

“hehehehehe No Your Majesty, I’m not”

“But you giggle as if you find something funny”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I’m dreadfully ticklish and you are tickling meee hehehehehehe”

“I see, I have heard that witches are rather ticklish, are you sure you are NOT a Witch?”

“hehehheehe, Your Majesty, I swear I am Not a witch heehhehehe, just very ticklish.”

The King continues his torture on you digging into your armpits forcing you to bust out with a laugh as you squirm from side to side pleading for him to stop.

“Please Your Majesty, AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA, I can take no more of this aHAHHAHAhhahaHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA, this is torture for me.”

The King ignores your pleas and intensifies his tickling. He reaches down and starts tickling your tummy and sides, his fingers wiggling and dancing back and forth. You can do nothing but laugh.

“AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH STOP I Beg OF YOOOOOOOOU AANAHAHAHA”

He straddles you tickling your tummy and sides, the holes in your blouse rip further as you wiggle from side to side, trying desperately to evade the torture. Your only hope is that this will end before he reaches your feet, tickling them would drive you mad.

“AHAHAHAAHAHAHAHPLEEEEEASE AHAHAHAHHAAHA STOP THIS AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA I CAN TAKE AHAHAHA NO MORE AHAHAHHAHAHAHA”

“Do you confess to being a witch? If so, I may have mercy on you and not end your life” the King says

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Very Well AHAHAHHA IF IT Will end this torture I will Confess HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Please Stop I Beg of YOUAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA”

“So, You Confess? You Are a Witch then?”

“Yes, Yes HAHAHA I I I Am A witch, Please stop the Tickling please Stop AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

The King stops his tickling. You slump down and continue to involuntarily giggle as you catch your breath. The King steps back, looks at his guards with an evil grin, then looks down at you sweating and still giggling.

“Since you have hereby confessed that you are indeed a Witch, I must now find you guilty of the crime and sentence you. I will show you mercy and spare your life. However, you shall remain prisoner in this dungeon until such time as I see to it that you may be release, if ever.”

Knowing that remaining a prisoner you would surely die of some disease in a matter of time, you voice protest to the King.

“Your Majesty, left here in the prison would surely mean my death. Is there not some other price I could pay?” you say, not thinking clearly at the moment.

The King steps back, feeling rather triumphant..

“Perhaps there is, but I must put you through one final test and we shall see.”

Still weak from your torture, you breathe a sigh of relief. The Guards unlock the stocks, and let loose your wrists. They lift you again to your feet. The King gives them a look and tells them to proceed. Before you realize what is happening, your tattered dress it ripped from your body. The other two Guards step forward and grab your ankles. You are suddenly snapped back to reality and begin to struggle trying to free yourself, but the guards are too big and hold you too tightly.

“Place her on the Rack!” the King orders

You let out a scream and plead for help. “AAAAAAAAAAAh Please Help ME!”

You are placed on the rack naked, your wrist locked above your head, your ankles are done likewise below you. The guards take positions at each corner of the rack and one begins to turn a crank, tightening your restraints and stretching your body out to it’s limits. You are totally unable to move except for your fingers and your feet.

“Please Your Majesty, Why are you doing this to me?” you ask.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to make a confession. You see my dear Blondie, I’ve had my eyes on you for quite a while, I’ve watched you blossom from a young girl to the woman you are today and might I say that I’ve never seen a more beautiful flower. You see your father has owed taxes for sometime now and was forced to bargain with me. You for His taxes, however, my being the King it would look rather suspicious to suddenly have a peasant living in my castle. So, I devised this mock trial and had you accused so that you could be brought here under seemingly more realistic terms. You must understand that I am a lonely King and need to find amusement at times. This more so now that the queen has departed us. She met a similar fate several years ago when she attempted to have me overthrown and take the Kingdom for her selfish use. I had no choice but to see to it that her plans did not succeed, needless to say her time down here was rather to her enjoyment. Sadly however, her stamina was not that good and she could not endure as long as I would have liked. Now, I spare your life, but you shall be forced to remain here for my amusement. The Tests were purely to determine if you would suit my needs, and you have passed them with flying colors. I shall keep you here as my little tickle slave, to be teased and tortured by other members of the court and myself when we are bored. How does that sound to you?”

With a shocked look of terror on your face you plead to the King.

“Your Majesty! Please not that, Please I am terribly ticklish, I could not stand it I will go mad. Please anything but Tickle Torture!”

The King replies, “Guards, I think our little maiden needs some convincing that her situation is not as bad as it seems. What do you think?”

The Guards just look at each other and laugh. The King moves to stand beside you, He looks down at you with his now sinister looking blue-gray eyes and begins to torture your tightly stretched tummy.

“Tickle tickle tickle” he taunts

You instantly scream with uncontrolled laughter.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHANO NO NONOOOOOOOOAHAHAHHAHAHA”

The Kings nimble fingers work their way back and forth across your tummy and then up and down your sides, they are only 10 fingers, but they feel to you as a million. You are helpless, stretched out tight on the rack. The King stops for a moment.

“You see, this is not such a bad thing after all, is it my dear?”

“Please, No More. I beg of you do NOT DO THIS!”

“Still not convinced? Then lets try something else, that might change your tune.”

The King reaches inside his shirt and pulls out a gold key that hangs from a chain around his neck. He moves to the cabinet and unlocks it. You manage to turn your head just enough to catch a glimpse of the inside of the cabinet. Inside you see all types of brushes hanging from the door, on shelves you see an assortment of feathers from what would look like various birds from around the land. There are also tiny bundles of straw. There are other straps, blindfolds and tiny leather straps with rings on the ends, but you are not sure what they might be used for. The King chooses a small brush about ½ inches wide and tapered to a point. He turns back towards you and returns to his position standing beside you.

“This My Dear Blondie is a brush given to me by an oriental scribe that came here several years ago. He said that the hairs used to make the brush were from the softest sable fur that could be found. It was also said that when writing with this brush, strong emotions could be released with every stroke. I would now like to write a little poem in honor of you and your current situation.”

The King leans over your breasts now and begins to stroke the brush around and around spiraling slowly up to your nipples then back down. Again, your laughter erupts.

“no no pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease EEEEEEHEHEHHHEHEHEHHEHAHHEHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA STOP HAHAHAHHAA STOP AHAHHAHAHAHAHHIT TTTTTICKLEEESSAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA.”

Then the King turns the brush around and starts wiggling the thin handle point in your armpits.

“ahahhahahaaHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA OH OHOHOAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHANO MORE AAHAHHAHAHANO MOOOOOOORE AHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAH”

Having tortured your breasts and armpits for at least half an hour the king stops and allows you to catch your breath. He returns to the cabinet and puts the brush back in its place. He then selects a red feather, one that is very stiff with a very pointed end. He holds it behind his back, hiding it from your view. He moves to the end of the Rack.

“Are we now having fun?” he asks you

Beginning to sweat you respond, “Your Highness, please have mercy, this is most Unenjoyable torture please cease this torture and let me go.”

He raises the feather slowly from behind his back and readies it just out of reach of your foot.

“Release you? Heavens NO, you seem to be enjoying this too much to ever let you go, Now tell me that you want to stay, tell me that you love being here and want me to tickle you more.”

The King begins to twirl the feather tip up and down the arch of your foot. Like a bolt of lightening the tingle travels up your legs and spine, you close your eyes tight and summon what little strength you have and try to fight from laughing.

“Come on now, tell me that you want to stay here.”

The feather traces up and down your sole, like an itch you can’t scratch the torture is merciless and you can hold out no longer. Laughter erupts and you shake moving what little you can.

“AHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA OHOHOHOHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAOHOAHOAHOAHAHHHHEHEHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA NO NO STOP AHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA”

“All I want is for you to say 4 little words “please tickle me more” and then perhaps I will stop.”

You can only laugh and squeal as the feather dances wildly around your bare foot. The King is amused and waits patiently for you to respond.

“Guards, I need some assistance.” The King states

One of the guards goes to the cabinet and retrieves the two straps that have the tiny rings on them. The king continues torturing your soft soles with the feather. Another guard grabs the brush again. They return and stand beside the king. The King stops tickling your feet, the guards grab and hold your feet just below the toes. The king takes and places the tiny rings on each toe. You are in a state of euphoria and can only lay there giggling. You manage to speak.

“hehehhe what are heeehe you doing to ahahhahehe meeeeeee?”

The King ignores your question and continues. He takes the long strips that hang from the rings and slips them through holes in the rack on each side of your calves. Pulling them tight so your toes and feet are pulled back and are now immobile, he ties the ends off underneath the rack. He then takes the brush in hand and flicks it back and forth across his own hand as if to warm it up.

“Now, since you refuse to answer my request, let’s try this one more time. Tell me that “ you love being tickled”.

With that the king starts flicking the brush tip back and forth rapidly on the now exposed undersides of your toes. You inhale sharply and renew your hysterical laughter.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA MERCY AHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA MERCY PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEHEHHEHEHEHHAAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHA THIS THIS IS AHAHHHAAHHAHAHA MADNESS AHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHHAA.”

Your toes are pulled back and slightly spread the brush reaches all the hidden places you never thought were ticklish, but find that they are more so that you ever imagined.

“OOOOOOOOOHAHAOAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHHHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHHEHAHHAHHAHAHA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AHAHHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHHEEEEEEEEEEHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA Please please no more ahahahhAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA.”

Flick flick, twirl twirl the brush never stops, it twirls between each toe and then flicks the undersides. Occasionally the king slowly drags the brush up and down your stretched sole to give your toes a break. The room starts to spin you are laughing too hard and are unable to stop. Everything starts to go dark and the last think you hear is the king’s voice taunting “kitchy kitchy kooooooo” with a final burst of laughter you pass out limp on the Rack.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHAHAaaaaaaaah”

When you come to, you find yourself in a room. It’s empty except for a large bed, which you are laying on. You find yourself with your wrists tied together with soft golden cord and your ankles are shackled again with a heavy chain. The chain is very long and is secured to a large ring on the floor under the bed. You can stand up and move about the room but only as far as the chain will reach which unfortunately is not enough to reach the door of the room. You have been cleaned, and are wearing only a soft pure silk nightgown your body, still sensitive from your previous ordeal, tingles as the silk brushes against you with each movement. You hear keys turning in the door and your heart begins to pound again. You wonder who is coming and what they might be wanting to do to you.


The End?
 
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