Matilda at the castle (Part 1) MFF/FF (CTE1: Saturday afternoon)

Matilda busied herself with getting a head start with the reading for her new course. She had all the stationary she needed and then some! And everything was planned out on her wall chart, a special asterisk marked the weekend of the castle event. Matilda found herself fantasising about tickling Lauren and Claire, the rack was a particular favourite. She imagined them both stretched out tight begging her and her wenches to stop tickling them. Matilda occasionally had the dreaded spider dreams but less frequently and her terror was not as intense, a few times Claire and Lauren joined her in the web before a seamless change to them suffering in the stocks or on the rack. The event drew closer and closer, it was quite a drive and they wouldn’t arrive until the afternoon. Mark had booked a tent and made up a cover story for himself and Matilda. It was unlike their daughter to go to a music festival, but Matilda’s parents trusted Mark to look after her. Perhaps it would help prepare her for socialising at University.

Claire and Lauren had been persuaded to present similar cover stories and their collection was monitored by Mark and Samantha on their way to pick up Matilda. Their pair were safely stowed in the back seats of Margaret’s car, the child-lock providing useful. Matilda listened to a converted journal in their car, she had clever found a program to convert text into speech and listened to a computer voice repeating the article she had previously read. She was determined to do her best on her new course. The car arrived and was guided into place by attendants with yellow and black feathers, they were parked next to Margaret and helped her and Kimberley untie Lauren and Claire. In addition to the child lock the pair had been persuaded to handcuff one wrist below the seat and the other to their friend’s ankle. The two slaves had been told to tickle one another softly during the car journey. Lauren buckled her white strappy sandal whilst Claire resentful re-socked her pale sensitive foot ready for her green suede boot. She had hated the car journey, Lauren’s sharp nails had felt terrible on her bare arch and she was scarcely able to tickle back at times.

Before starting the walk from the car park to the castle the Kimberley and Margaret produced two ball gags and encouraged their two captives to open wide. Claire resisted whilst Lauren obediently accepted the red ball into her mouth, trembling as a small padlock clicked into place. Margaret noticed a round plug in the front of Lauren’s gag, she guessed this was to allow them to be fed water but her sadistic streak realised that this feature could be cruelly misused.

“C’mon! You tickled little Mattie! Now it’s time to take your punishment!” Kimberley teased, a sadistic gleam in her light brown eyes.

“Not that one!” Claire protested, pointing at the ball-gag

“Well it’s the only one we have and we need it to keep you hydrated!” Margaret, the red-haired wench added.

“Perhaps she wants to take the punishment for this one too!” Samantha chimed, holding Lauren’s bound wrists in their manacles.

“Yes! We could focus on the ringleader, and force this one to lick honey from the soles of her feet!” Kimberley teased.

Lauren protested into her gag whilst Matilda squirmed; ‘This was really happening!’ the shy academic brunette thought to herself.

“That would involve taking the Princess Lauren’s gag out, perhaps just we should just reserve the more cruel and intense techniques for this one!” Margaret added.

“Look you need to accept the gag, I need not remind you of the consequences of disobedience” Mark interjected, holding up his phone. The screen was blank but his reference to the pictures of Matilda’s ordeal were understood.

“Okay but only water goes in the tube!” Claire declared.

“What do you think she meant by that?” Kimberley asked with a wink as she helped Margaret secure the gag.

“Hmmm! I suppose we could pour and pump all sorts of horrible things into her mouth this way…” Margaret replied, her tone imitating surprise.

“…I had never thought of that!” She added.

Claire protested into her gag, her muffled objections satisfying her sadistic captors.

“Tell you what, if you’re good we won’t exploit your fears. Which so obviously stem from your own desires!” Margaret concluded menacingly.

Claire nodded, yet again the older red-haired wench had seen right through her. Claire loved the idea of torturing a helpless woman with the gag; feeding her fluids through a hose to a variety of diabolical purposes. As with tickle torture Claire loved to inflict fear but hated the idea of being the victim of her cruel schemes. As she made her way up to the castle she knew she would suffer all of the soft unbearable torments she herself could not stand. Her feet tingled in their boots as she made her way uphill next to Lauren, her wrists bound and held by Margaret who grinned with anticipation.


Mark handled the admissions desk and distributed the five yellow feathers whilst Margaret got her blue feather. They had brought their own costumes but used the changing rooms to change into their medieval outfits and leather shoes. Matilda trembled as she beheld her cousin mark in his Knight Templar’s costume, his purple feather necklace on display over the cross that adorned his chest. He had a hood covering his face and a mask. Both Margaret and Kimberley also wore masks whilst Samantha turned hers down. Matilda squirmed and hoped her mask would protect her identity, she wanted to punish Claire and Lauren but was a little bit un-comfortable now she was at the castle, she wasn’t aware there would be so many people!

“So I’m going by Meredith, how about you?” Margaret asked, breaking Matilda’s concerned mental tangent about being discovered by someone she knew.

“M…M…. Mor-Morweena” Matilda replied.

Pseudonyms were exchanged. Mark choose Martin for ease of memory whilst Samantha and Kimberley were more imaginative; The Blonde chose Celeste whilst Kimberley went with Rametta.

“How about these two?” The freshly dubbed Rametta asked.

“Calix and Loreena?” Wench Meredith proposed, her red hair and evil grin somehow suiting her new identity.

“Sounds good to me!” Wench Celeste added serenely.

“Great! Now let’s tickle that woman in the stocks!” Wench Meredith concluded.

As the red haired wench led the group out of the changing room Mark quietly noted her dominance. He wasn’t angry, but he was the one who was supposed to be in charge. He considered reminding her of her place but the allure of the helpless girl in the stocks led him to the gatehouse.

Each of the party took turns tickling the helpless tickle colourful haired victim whilst ‘Calix’ and ‘Loreena’ were held watching. Her feet were soft and sensitive, shortly before they arrived a Scarlet haired woman with pale skin finished heating her trapped soles with a pair of hairdryers. After a few slaps her feet were horribly ticklish. Each of the group marvelled at how sensitive her feet were. Matilda and Samantha slowly teased her arches with their fingers whilst Kimberley, Mark and Margaret were far crueller using fingernails, hairbrushes and electric toothbrushes to drive her insane. As the group talked they began practising using one another pseudonyms. Eventually they became tired of waiting as the crowd grew.

“Okay let’s see what else we have got!” Mark proposed, wanting to take the lead before Margaret usurped him again.

The party headed out into the courtyard and beheld the two rows of stocks. Many of the stocks were empty and various other devices could be made out in the background between tents, shrubs and trees. The few remaining victims in the stocks received some attention but the discarded feather and distant giggles suggested that this had been the focus of the morning’s activity and the fun had moved elsewhere.

“Any of you Green Feathers?” A tall ginger woman asked.

“No but we still might use these stocks” Mark replied with a smile.

“Okay, feel free to ask if you need any help” Ingrid added, eyeing the two captive wenches and curling her large bare feet in the grass.

‘Calix and Loreena’ were guided to a set of triple stocks. The struggling red-haired captive’s ankles were easily trapped under the upper board that swung inwards to the higher central device. Whilst ‘Loreena’ stoically accepted her fate her ankles were not so easily trapped, the central device confounded both Mark and the three wenches.

“Hi can I help?” Ingrid asked.

“Yeah how do these work?” Kimberley asked.

Ingrid instructed the group in raising the upper board on the two runners attached to the rectangular metal poles that held the stocks to the ground. Lauren’s feet were guided into place by many hands which fumbled with the straps of her sandals hungrily.

“Oh this one does have pretty feet doesn’t she!” Ingrid declared, noting Lauren’s perfect toes with the pink varnish.

Lauren’s tall Roman sandals were placed on top of the stocks next to Claire’s ankle boots. The pair’s wrists were suspended above their heads exposing their soft underarms. Natalie had joined the party and helped pull Claire’s socks from her struggling feet, hungry to torture this pair the way she was so often tickled.

“I think this one is asking for toe-ties!” Ingrid declared, anticipating the sweet torture she would soon inflict.

Claire’s socks were rolled up and put into her boots whilst her squirming toes were held still and tied individually. The red-head’s feet were already being softly tickled whilst Lauren’s soft arches had only been gently teased. Samantha wrote both of their pseudonyms on the blackboards in chalk before adding her own to the set for the third set of stocks.

“Now since you were a good girl, we will make a deal with you!...” Margaret teased, enjoying Lauren’s timid attention.

“…If you can keep your feet still we will not tie your toes. If you want to know what will happen if you fail, we will demonstrate on cruel ‘Calix’ here….” The red haired wench continued, receiving the rapt attention of both captives and the small crowd which had gathered around her and her little group.

“TORTURE HER!!!” Wench Meredith declared…

Kimberley and Natalie dug in with the nails, driving Claire insane, so far her feet had only been softly teased now twenty sharp nails explored her taut arches. And with a click four electric toothbrushes were switched on and began exploring her toes. ‘Morweena’ followed quiet instructions from her robed and hooded cousin, somehow his face being covered eased her discomfort. Whilst he happily explored her toes his cousin was more reserved.

“Don’t hold back! Remember what she did to you!” Margaret added; holding up her phone to show a picture of Matilda wrapped in plastic her feet were on display.

As Matilda looked at the picture she remembered the horrible sensations during her ordeal, the picture showed her feet tightly stretched out with a hairbrush at her heels and an electric toothbrush in the gap between her toes and the balls of her feet. The petite brunette increased her efforts but found she could only use one toothbrush effectively.

Meanwhile ‘Loreena’s ordeal had begun. Margaret only used two feather to softly torment her feet but her victim was so sensitive keeping still was impossible.

“Now splay your toes!” The cruel wench teased.

Her captive submissively obeyed before immediately curling her toes in response to the soft sensations exploring the most sensitive spot of her hyper ticklish feet.

“One last chance! Keep still or you will suffer like Calix!” Margaret declared.

“Nooo! I… I…. I can’t!” Lauren begged into her ball-gag. Her pleas were muffled but understood by her tormentor who gestured at the torments ‘Calix’ now suffered…

The red haired victim was an exemplar in hysterical agony. Matilda had exchanged one toothbrush for a hairbrush and found she could torment both arches and toes effectively with each. She had been joined by a few members of the crowd who used flossers, feathers, toothbrushes and a variety of other implements to torment the helpless ‘Calix’. Others had spread to behind the stocks and tormented the red-haired captive’s underarms, tummy and legs. Claire was in hell and screamed so loudly the cap in the centre of her ball-gag popped out and dangled next to the red ball. Even if un-gagged she would not have been able to make a coherent plea for mercy such was her torment. All her cries and squeals achieved though was attracting more tormentors.

“You see! You could laugh as heartily as ‘Calix’ I’m sure the crowd would love to tickle you too” Margaret teased.

Lauren protested once again into her ball-gag she dreaded being tortured like Claire but couldn’t resist the feathers between her toes. She desperately tried to keep her splayed toes still as the feathers slowly approached but it was hopeless. Her tormentor balanced feathers between each and every toe and slowly pulled at the quills one at a time whilst scratching at her victim’s arches with her long nails. Lauren couldn’t resist and once again failed the test, although Margaret persisted in teasing her victim until all the feathers were pulled out from their nests between Lauren’s toes and the Blonde’s feet were flailing desperately to escape the stocks.

“Okay one last chance!....” Margaret teased, enjoying the game.

“…..Hold this feather between your toes, if you drop it you will suffer all the torments you have witnessed to your right” She continued loving the look of fear in her victim’s eyes.

Lauren tried hard to keep the feather between her two big toes but she was so ticklish it was impossible to resist Margaret’s nails. Within seconds of the final challenge started the feather fell, the hungry crowd assisted Wench Meredith in tying back Loreena’s toes before the feather even reached the ground. To the helpless blonde’s right ‘Celeste’ was growing impatient.

“Kinda getting lonely over here!” The blonde wench declared wiggling her bare feet in the lower hoops of the stocks.

“Okay sorry was kind of preoccupied!” Mark declared from Claire’s soles.

Soon the blonde’s feet were trapped in the third set of stocks and the crowd spread out to explore all three helpless victims. Lauren proved a particular favourite; Wench Merdith’s cruel games raising her anxiety and sensitivity such that the more intense techniques now applied to her sensitive soles were far more torturous to endure. Like Claire she screamed so hard she blew the cap open on her ball-gag. A pair of scarves were used to secure the cruel devices as the pair were given a brief break. It was agreed the trio would be left whilst the group explored the rest of the castle. Before leaving their victim’s the chalk boards were completed to read:

Tickle us mercilessly

Do not remove our gags

‘Celeste’ opted to stay having longed for this fantasy to come true for weeks. She asked Mark to modify the chalkboard bearing her pseudonym, the board read;

 Tickle me half as badly as these two;

No Hairbrushes!

(Unless I scream)


“Hey!” Samantha protested, the final line being added by her boyfriend who knew she couldn’t stand the sensation of hundreds of prickly points covering her arches and heels.

Matilda tagged along with her cousin and the two wenches and explored the castle. All around them women were being tied to trees in different positions and tickled. The party would stop at the most inventive positions to administer a few tickles before moving on. This would also happen on the many occasions a victim was found particularly appealing or seemed exceptionally ticklish. The party would also stop if they found a particularly inventive tickle-game or method of restraint. On one such occasion a young woman with colourful pink and blue hair was spotted struggling to hold her blue feather necklace in her mouth. A woman in 1920’s style clothing was teasing her feet with a feather as she knelt with her legs either side of a tree, her arms tied above and in front of her to the most suitable branch. The party approached as the desperate victim dropped the feather to delightful peals of laughter. Her torturer smiled and dropped her own feathers only to engage her nails in a wicked dance over her soft arches.

“That is the second time you have dropped your feather; I think from now on you should gain a tickler for every failure!” The spry woman grinned, winking at her crowd.

“Mind if I go first!” Wench Meredith asked.

“Sure, focus on her toes!” Betty replied.

Their victim had long toes with delightful dark pink nail polish that squirmed under the feathers, it took the party a while to realise they had seen this woman before in the punishment stocks at the gatehouse. Matilda was intrigued by the poor woman’s muffled giggles as she desperately tried to keep her feather necklace in her mouth. It was a foregone conclusion that she would fail, the colourful haired contestant was desperately ticklish and the addition of a second tickler made any attempt to bite down on her prized blue feather impossible. After a valiant resistance of almost fifteen seconds her feather necklace bounced against her tummy as forty finger nails explored her sensitive soles. Matilda noticed a piece of thin rope was tied to the necklace and looped behind the victim’s neck, she shyly began to put her hand up to ask to be the third tickler but Kimberley beat her to it. The devious brunette wench took two feathers and explored the hollows of the poor girl’s underarms. The three vixens went about their cruel game being careful to tease their victim such that the possibility of maintaining control was barely attainable. Matilda guessed she had to ensure this for some length of time and watched as she desperately squirmed and tried to keep her grip on the piece of rope. The tempo increased and the colourful haired girl bucked and thrashed before losing the feather in a fit of helpless laughter.

“Perhaps three should be the maximum!” Betty exclaimed.

“Care to take my place Wench Morweena?...” Margaret offered Matilda.

Matilda smiled shyly and accepted the feathers. The captive’s feather was returned to her mouth and the game began again. Matilda was surprised at how much she enjoyed teasing the pretty long toes with her feather. With Claire and Lauren her enjoyment was based purely on revenge, but something about the way the long toes squirmed and tried to wriggle away filled Matilda with joy. After the feather dropped Betty showed Matilda how to scratch at the arches with the pointy end of the feather in just the right way. The poor woman hated this and begged for mercy, her pleas were met by the rest of the crowd circling round to tickle her upper body with their fingers. Betty decreed that she had suffered enough and needed a short break. When the party left the colourful haired girl was being released, she had not passed her test but was complaining about her position hurting her back. Mark commented on how she was extended forwards from a kneeling position and a murmur of agreement confirmed she should be rearranged before suffering more torture.

After wandering the outskirts of the woods the four ticklers found a set of stocks bearing a chalk-board and dozens of cigarette packets attached to the wood with little pins, each seemed to be covered in little pen marks. The woman in the stocks was in her mid-late thirties with straw coloured hair flailing as she was tickled mercilessly. She was gagged and blindfolded but her suffering was apparent from her thrashing and muffled screams Her toes were tied back and her arms secured above her head. Each foot was being tickled by between two and four ticklers some of whom swapped between targets. Meanwhile her legs, sides, underarms and tummy all received attention from the crowd. All four onlookers stood amazed, Matilda particularly was horrified having yet to witness such intense tickle torture.

The chalk board attached to the stocks read;


- - - - I lied to my husband - - - -

After ten years of trying to quit smoking I agreed to my husband to spend one minute being tickled in the stocks in our basement for every cigarette I smoked.

Once a week, often more frequently; I would present the empty packets bearing tallies like this….

At first it seemed to work as I cut down to reduce the tickling. Soon I was on a sentence I could stand, even enjoy  so the exchange rate was increase to two minutes, then three and finally five….

It was then I choose to hide unmarked cigarette packs to keep myself on a sentence I could stand whilst maintaining my nicotine intake. My treachery was discovered as I forgot to hide the receipts for these secret cigarettes and before this event my husband of 15 years confronted me.

Please tickle me as I have to make up for over two thousand crafty smokes charged at ten minutes a puff!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Matilda couldn’t keep from glancing at the suffering woman as the crowd drove her insane.

“Which one is her husband?” She asked the Black Feather, glancing at several of the men crueller exploring her upper body and tormenting her trapped soles.

“Oh he isn’t here just now; he went to the gents…” The tall shy brunette answered.

Matilda automatically smiled at Natalie, she seemed nice; not scary like the other event organisers.

“In fact; he will probably ask everyone to slow down when he gets back, so you might want to get stuck in!” Natalie added.

Matilda re-thought her impression of the Black Feather and followed Mark and the wenches. She really wanted to be back at the stocks exacting revenge on Lauren and Claire but didn’t feel safe on her own. Mark and the wenches took over the torture of the smoking woman’s left foot. Matilda settled near the back content to watch but was encouraged forwards by Kimberley. Mark slipped away to torment the poor woman’s upper body, clearly slightly uncomfortable with Matilda’s presence. The Wenches meanwhile instructed their young acolyte in technique of advanced foot tickler torture.

Many tickle tools were strewn around the stocks for them to use, wanting to get their fill of the really sadistic stuff before the betrayed husband returned Wench Meredith selected a hair brush and demonstrating its most effective use on the arch and heel of their work area. Those tickling the woman’s right foot surreptitiously copied the techniques Matilda studiously observed.

“Good young Morweena!...” Wench Meredith beamed, adding: “Now you have seen how Wench Rametta is using the toothbrushes between her toes! I will hand you over to her and then see if you remember what you have learned here”.

Matilda beamed, she was beginning to enjoy this tickling lark and the positive feedback fed her desperate desire to do well. She studiously observed the cruel tricks possible with toothbrushes, being encouraged to add a pair during the demonstration bringing the total number in play up to four. Their effects were clearly hell for the poor woman who desperately struggled against the toe-ties which splayed out all five toes exposing all the sensitive regions in between. Matilda was an apt pupil and excelled at the additional course on electric flossers. She found torturing the helpless woman therapeutic; she didn’t need to think very hard to explore the pink helpless skin making a mental note of the tell-tale signs that indicated a tickle spot. She easily made a mental note of these torture spots and returned to them between searching for new ones.

“What can I say honey, you’re a natural!” Kimberley applauded.

“Thank you Wench Rametta!” Matilda replied, enjoying both the praise and her work.

Just as Matilda was bringing the flosser in her left hand back to an identified torture spot between her victim’s two smallest toes a male voice cried out;

“Hey! Back off a little! I told you about this before!” The voice clearly belonged to the suffering woman’s husband

His return coincided with the rotation of the Black Feathers and following a short discussion in which it became apparent that Natalie had been asked to prevent this from happening a rare opportunity presented itself. Natalie was pinned down by her replacement; the enormous ginger amazon from the courtyard who grabbed the brunette and pinned her down encouraging the crowds to stretch her out and tickle her. The crowd seized the rare opportunity to tickle a Black Feather and explored her helpless body finding her feet to be the worst spot. Like many rare opportunities it did not last long and Natalie soon slipped her shoes back on and headed off. Matilda’s group followed her in the hope that they would get to tickle her again but found themselves at a place called the sanctuary which didn’t interest them.

Near to the sanctuary was a rack which to the party’s disappointment was not in use. Whilst examining the device and the straps on the other half of the workbench it sat on Matilda realised they were close to the stocks they had left Lauren and Claire in. She was about to suggest they went back to check on them when she heard the sound of spectacle. Upon approaching the party beheld a man in circus master’s costume gently teasing a petite teenager as her gothic friend looked on from the stocks.

Matilda quietly watched whilst Margaret and Kimberley queued up to tickle both the Goth and her tiny friend who they understood was trying to protect her in some way. Matilda was amazed at the set-up. The Goth Girls feet were protected inside a metal drum whilst her upper body received a merciless tickling from the crowd. Her friend meanwhile was kneeling on a split bench with her arms spread out exposing every tickle spot. When the group arrived she was begging for her socks to be removed. Matilda was confused; ‘surely this was an unusual request?...’ she thought.

“See the underneath of her socks?” Kimberley asked.

“Erm.. Yeah” Matilda quietly replied.

“Do you see how they are like sheer nylon stockings?...” Kimberley continued.

“Okay” Matilda added, still confused but quietly appreciating her friend’s quiet advisement.

“They make being tickled a hundred times worse!” Kimberley beamed.

“Not for me! I like it bare!” A woman from the queue added in a loud American accent.

“Each to their own!” Mark replied.

Matilda trembled slightly, she had been so lost in the conversation she didn’t realise other people could hear. Kimberley giggled and whispered to Matilda.

“Want to know a secret…. I can’t stand to be tickled in stockings” The devious brunette smiled at Matilda, she hoped her revelation could help bring the shy little thing out of her shell.

“Thank you Wench Rametta” Margaret mumbled, feeling slightly awkward but also strangely thrilled.

Matilda wasn’t sure if it was the prospect of tickling this tall raven haired wench or the acceptance she felt at being privy to this ticklish little secret but at the moment in the sunshine she felt truly happy. The tiny teenager in the stocks was less at peace, the tickling had stopped and the horrible socks were being slowly removed. Matilda watched as the tiny teenager was awarded a much needed break; ‘What was that her T-shirt said, something about being asthmatic?’ As his assistant did something with a lock on the stocks The Circus Master declared that such socks were available for a small fee.

Matilda spotted a small gleam in Kimberley’s eyes as he said this. A thought occurring to her Matilda nervously said.

“We could get some of those for Loreena and Calix….” This was met with general approval once everyone remembered these were the chosen Pseudonyms for Lauren and Claire.

“We should maybe pick up two… or three! Pairs” Matilda added, quietly emphasising the three.

Kimberley rewarded her with a covert smile as the group nudged nearer to the front of the queue. During “Cecil’s” break some of the crowd had slunk over to tickle her Gothic friend. Wench Meredith had joined them, finding the allure of a ticklish Goth girl too tempting. As the first of the crowd were selected to tickle her kneeling friend she returned with exciting news.

“So you’ll never guess what is going on here!...” She began

“Erm! excuse me!” The green feather who had joined in Kimberley and Matilda’s conversation interrupted.

“What?” Wench Meredith asked irritably, hating being interrupted mid-spiel.

“Back of the line please!” The tall American woman added.

“We were saving her place!” Mark added, diplomatically not wanting an argument but finding the woman slightly annoying.

“You still are not going before me!” The American dirty blonde added.

“We were behind you anyway, do you want to prove how you prefer bare feet for tickles” Kimberley threatened.

“Well it’s nice of you to offer, maybe after this!” The American woman added loudly, in a less argumentative tone.

The group sighed, Mark muttered something Matilda couldn’t hear. Kimberley giggled having just picked up the words ‘Nothing a ball-gag couldn’t fix!’. The American woman was not unattractive but the prospect of her loud voice during a tickle session was not one the group relished.

“Anyway! It turns out this pair swapped necklaces or something, and as punishment they are being tickled. The Goth girl in the stocks has extremely sensitive feet under that metal drum thing and this one knows the code to the lock holding it in place!...” Margaret babbled excitedly.

Matilda just about followed Margaret’s excited stream of consciousness and wondered who came up with these ideas.

“So she is the only one who knows the code” Kimberley asked.

“Yeah! She has already revealed two numbers and there are two to go!” Margaret replied.

“From the looks of it Wench Meredith, she will reveal the third shortly” Mark added, using Margaret’s pseudonym as a subtle reminder for her to calm down.

The poor kneeling victim was suffering terribly. Electric toothbrushes and flossers now explored her feet focusing mostly on her toes whilst a young woman tickled her thighs. As the group were beckoned forwards to hold her toes still she cracked, denying them the chance to tickle her. Despite their disappointment it was clear the young girl couldn’t take much more. Her gothic friend became their consolation prize and as Matilda was being instructed in the finer points of tickling underarms, ribs and sides a goat was brought forwards. To Matilda’s astonishment the tall African Caribbean Black Feather was locked in the stocks next to ‘Ravenna’ the Goth girl whose feet were only protected by one more digit. The soles of the Black Feather known as ‘Mistress Ivory’ were offered no such protection and were freed from her boots and coated in brine. Matilda was astonished, she alone didn’t seem to already know the full intricacies of this tickle torture technique and the explanation from Kimberley only made her feel more uncomfortable. She asked to check on Lauren and Claire and Kimberley offered to go with her. As they left Matilda spotted the worried look on “Cecil’s” face and her anxiety increased.

Kimberley managed to calm her down and took her back towards the long stocks, The American woman followed them and took Samantha’s place in the stocks. Lauren and Claire meanwhile continued to be tickled mercilessly. ‘Calix’ was a particular favourite of the crowd and continued to thrash hysterically as her feet were tormented with hairbrushes. ‘Loreena’ meanwhile was exhausted and slumped forwards the tears dried to her cheeks, one woman teased her soles with a feather but the lack of a reaction made her ginger friend the crowd favourite, with the gagged newcomer a close second. Kimberley opened the plug in Lauren’s ball-gag and fed her water from a bottle before topping up her sunscreen.

“We might have to take this one to that sanctuary place, I think she has had enough!” She added.

“Wimp! I swear thanks to Mar-Martin… My soles received ninety percent hairbrush tickles!” Samantha replied, slipping her sandals on.

“I might go and sit in the car” Matilda quietly mumbled.

“What? No c’mon! I know that was a bit intense with the goats and everything but it’s not all like that!” Kimberley replied, trying to comfort the nervous academic girl.

“How about we take this one to the sanctuary and see how you feel?” Samantha offered.

“Okay!” Matilda replied smiling shyly.

Lauren had to almost be frogmarched to the sanctuary, even in her roman sandals she giggled into her ball-gag every time her foot made contact with the ground. Samantha lay her down in the shade and went to get coffee, tickling the waitress in the designated area since there wasn’t a queue. She returned with three coffees and removed Lauren’s ball-gag, Matilda considered making their blonde victim promise she wouldn’t scream but it was obvious she was too tired. She watched Samantha wipe the saliva from the red ball that bore Lauren’s teeth marks ‘So this is Mark’s girlfriend I knew nothing about’ she thought. She was pretty with long blonde hair and pale skin. Matilda noticed she was staring and felt obliged to speak.

“So why didn’t you want a mask?” She asked, having been spotted admiring Samantha’s deep blue eyes.

“I just didn’t want one” Samantha serenely replied.

“But what if you ran into someone you knew?” Matilda asked, terrified herself of this happening to her.

“Then I would be happily surprised that we have a common interest” Samantha replied with a smile

“But what if…” Matilda began and then stopped, Samantha had a point but even with her mask the prospect of mutually assured destruction was not enough to make her feel any safer.

Matilda realised she was hungry and went to get a cookie from the café near the sanctuary. Again there was no queue the drinks or under the sign reading;


- - - You may tickle the waitresses here - - -


As Matilda approached the counter she spotted the young women pretend to read magazines, they each dangled one their shoes from the toes of one foot revealing one soft arch and a similar enticing curved foot clad in shiny black tights. Matilda smiled and decided to test a hypothesis, she changed course and snuck up on the pair. She began lightly using her fingertips but soon sped up the tempo and began using her nails. Both girls struggled to keep their feet in the tickle zone, of the pair the brunette wearing the tights seemed to suffer worse to Matilda but also seemed the most resilient. The now barefoot waitress kept pulling her feet back especially whenever Matilda used both hands on her soft arches. Not to beaten her friend kicked off her battered black flats and stretched out her feet splaying her toes; Matilda rewarded her with a victory dance of tickles, eventually her tummy rumbled and she left to get her cookie.

“Seems like you’re feeling better” Samantha commented as she returned.

“Oh yeah, Wench Rametta told me about how stockings and nylons make people more ticklish” Matilda replied.

“Well it varies from person to person” Samantha replied sipping her coffee.

“Yeah but it was true back there” Matilda remarked.

“Really, it seemed like the barefoot one got it worst from where I was sitting” Samantha commented.

Matilda munched on her cookie and thought about how often the barefoot waitress kept pulling her feet away. Lauren was recovering and accepted her coffee and a cookie from Matilda who had bought three. The trio finished their drinks and returned to see how Claire was getting along. Lauren was re-gagged and only giggled when walking over the longer grass rather than giggling every time she put a foot down as she had on the way to the sanctuary.

Matilda took them to the gatehouse where she purchased three pairs of the special socks she had witnessed the circus master demonstrate. Upon their return they found the stocks empty. Matilda was slightly panicked but Samantha calmed her down and began the search. Lauren followed submissively as the pair guided her around looking for Mark and the other wenches. There was a brief pause when they stumbled on a sandpit within a wooden frame. Matilda still wanted to keep looking but Samantha recognised the woman buried in the sand from the punishment stocks and the feather game. She smiled at Matilda and offered;

“If it wasn’t for his trick with the hairbrushes I might let Mar…tin bury me in the sand like this!” Samantha commented, almost forgetting her boyfriend’s pseudonym again.

“Yeah that’s great tell him when we find him!” Matilda replied, annoyed at the delay.

“She never managed to hold onto her feather so she accepted half an hour in the sand pit as punishment!” Betty explained recognising the two wenches.

Samantha insisted on taking a turn tickling the buried victim whilst Matilda sulked. After a further five minutes of searching the trio eventually found their friend’s talking to a group of people wearing odd jump suits with spider’s emblazoned on the front. Matilda was reminded slightly of her bad dreams but was more intrigued by the strange black netting they were constructing between several trees.

“Ah it seems our other victim has arrived!” One of the jump suit clad newcomers exclaimed.

Matilda had trouble placing his accent, and was still trying to figure it out as Lauren was guided towards the group for examination.

“Hmm…. Yes… I think we have a zuit in her size!” One of the women commented.

Claire meanwhile was slumped against a tree wearing a jump suit with a picture of a fly on the front. Her feet were protected by her socks but still twitched in response to phantom tickles as she slept.

“She passed out around ten minutes after you left” Kimberley explained aloud before muttering something to Samantha that Matilda couldn’t hear.

Samantha playfully batted her friend in response to the unheard comment. Matilda meanwhile was coming to understand the black ropes forming a web between two trees. Held between the ropes were many leather buckles she guessed were used to suspend people between the ropes. Her former anxiety melted away as she thought of her time stuck on ‘the fly-paper’ at the tender mercies of Lauren and Claire. One of the jumpsuit-clad women showed her a photo album of other events the group had attended. Matilda smiled at the many positions people were trapped in; the X-shape was a popular one and she thought it would be best for ‘Loreena and Calix’. She had been starting to feel slightly sorry for them but this reminded her of the awful torture they had put her through.

Matilda was pleased to finally figure out that the ‘spider’s web crew’ were Dutch, she could have asked but was quietly pleased with herself when her sharp mind correctly placed their accent concealed underneath excellent English. Their ‘web’ was completed; being suspended vertically between three trees. Matilda knew from their photo album that they had more ropes and could arrange them at other angles. For now, she was satisfied helped to manoeuvre Lauren into position. Her blonde victim struggled slightly and protested into her ball-gag as her roman sandals and slave outfit were removed before she was guided into her own jump suit. Lauren was too weak to resist being suspended in an X-shape on one half of the web, her jumpsuit featured a hood that served as a blindfold. Matilda smiled as many hands closed the straps and buckles around her arms and legs stretching her out tight so that there was no need for a tummy strap, some closed over a limb in the traditional method whilst other’s connected to small metal rings that were part of the devious jumpsuits. Stretched out in the sunlight with the fly emblazoned on her chest Lauren looked a treat, Matilda noted how the jumpsuits featured a thin sheer fabric over the most sensitive spots such as the sides, underarms and the backs of the knees. Claire was still asleep, Samantha checked her pulse and indicated she was okay.

Despite her victim looking like a sleeping ginger angel the web reminded Matilda of the inverted tickle torture she had suffered. She decided Claire deserved a similar torture and a rude awakening, so she asked if Claire could be suspended upside down. The tallest of the Dutch web-crew scooped up the sleeping Claire who squirmed and mumbled;

“I don’ wanna go to school!”

Claire’s unconscious ramblings reminded her captors to re-apply her gag, then her wrists were secured on the lower part of the web. Then she was stretched out with the help of two footstools. Soon she was strapped to the web in an inverted X-shape her hair dangling from under her hood. One of the Dutch women decided she needed a belly strap just to be on the safe side. Lauren struggled to one side as Matilda was given the chance to wake up the still sleeping Claire.

Matilda stood back and examined the scene; her former tormentors looked a treat Lauren’s desperate struggles were countered by the slowly awakening Claire. Sensing she didn’t have much time Matilda crept up on her red-haired victim and stood on one of the footstools to access her feet which wiggled in their pale-green socks. Matilda remembered the first sock tickles she received on the ‘fly paper’ and decided to recreate the experience for Claire who she knew was the ringleader. Claire’s socks were slightly loose as Matilda used her fingertips to explore her sleeping arches, her victim giggled gently to herself at first before suddenly awakening and screaming into her ball-gag as her ticklish nightmare yielded to the horrible reality of her helpless situation.

The moment her prey awoke Matilda dug in with her nails and increased the tempo of her tickle torture. Both her friend’s and their Dutch associates couldn’t resist much longer and surrounded Lauren and Claire positioning themselves at their favourite spots. Matilda didn’t mind sharing and relished Claire’s increased struggles as her underarms, tummy and legs were explored. The full benefit of the spider’s web became apparent; not only were all of each victim’s spots trapped and stretched out for torture but it was possibly for almost twice as many ticklers to access them. Hands reached through the holes in the web from the other side to explore ribs and thighs, Matilda remembered the pictures in the photo-album and remembered the any dis-embodied hands that belonged to ticklers she figures must have been blurred by the camera’s focus.

Returning to her work Matilda hungrily pulled off Claire’s socks. She discarded them casually and dug into her soft pale arches. Claire’s other ticklers had paused to behold Matilda’s efforts and catch he falling socks. Claire’s reactions were priceless, the sensations on her bare feet were hellish. The pause in her upper body torture was short lived and she was driven further into tickle hell as the hungry hands explored her ribs, tummy, sides and the lethal tickle spot just behind her knees. The lull was sufficient however for Matilda to mentally note;

“Definitely more ticklish without the socks!”

Lauren was suffering almost as much as her friend, her hood had slipped off during her struggles. Her panic and anticipation of torture delighted her captors and they took great pleasure in building up slowly. Her wide eyed horror was so delightful her tormentors didn’t reapply her hood as a blindfold and played a game involved one of them tickling at a time for short periods. This increased Lauren’s anxiety exponentially and her helpless struggles to see where she would be tickled next delighted her torturers. Hands reached from the other side of the web and wiggled either side of her tummy, before they made contact unseen hands fluttered sharp fingernails over her arches and she screamed throwing her head back as far as her bonds would allow. As she did so the hands over her tummy that had been the cause of so much dread dug in and drove her insane. As Claire’s socks were removed her captors abandoned this game and dug in for a mercilessly no-holes-barred tickle torture of their helpless blonde victim.

Matilda meanwhile was pondering the stocking-socks she had purchased in the gatehouse. She produced one pair and unrolled them selecting the one embroidered with a tiny ‘L’ to indicate left. She slipped the sock on her victim’s foot delighted she had guessed the correct size. She tossed a second pair to Kimberley who beheld them with an evil grin.

“Only put one on, I have a hypothesis to test.” Matilda excitedly instructed.

“What?” Kimberley asked.

“I want to see how they compare to bare feet” Matilda explained.

“I think I know what your findings will be professor Morweena!” Kimberley replied, adjusting Matilda’s pseudonym.

The experiment’s findings were hindered however by the influence of the un-abated upper body torture that roved over each girl’s helpless body finding the worst spots only to return to them again and again.

“Could you pause for a second please…” Matilda asked; “I can’t tell which foot is more ticklish”.

Sullenly the upper body ticklers stopped and watched impatiently as Matilda and Kimberly explored one foot at a time. Lauren was definitely more ticklish on her stocking clad foot whilst Claire was less obviously so. Frustrated Matilda dug into her toes and was delighted by both the feel of the scratchy fabric and Claire’s explosive reaction.

“Well they definitely work on this one!...” Kimberley beamed unrolling the second sock.

“Your subject shows more subtle response to stimuli, perhaps further testing is required!” The devious brunette continued.

“And yours too, you need to test her other foot in the stockings to make sure she doesn’t just have one foot that is more ticklish than the other!” Matilda replied.

“Can ve hurry this up please, some of us are keen to tickle” A tall Blonde woman from the crowd chided in an unusual accent.

Matilda came to the conclusion that the socks definitely increased Claire’s sensitivity and slipped the second one over her right foot. As the upper body ticklers returned the suspended ginger victim was pushed into silent laughter, her Dutch ticklers noted how her head was turning red and decided to demonstrate another feature of their contraption. One at a time Claire’s limbs were released and repositioned until she had been rotated 120 degrees to a less strenuous position. Matilda didn’t mind as it meant she could sit down and torment her victim’s left foot as one of her co-ticklers held back her toes with one hand and explored her knees with the other. Matilda giggled, she had learnt the joys of tickling women during her afternoon ambles but the revenge factor made tickling Claire so much better. She briefly abandoned her work to tickle Lauren who had also been rotated during a brief break and was now discovering the true extent of torture that being hung upside down and tickle tortured could inflict. Matilda joined Kimberley at her feet, and gently stroked her soft arches before exploring the impact of the scratchy fabric held under the toes. She was delighted by the result, Lauren’s exhausted but delightful struggles gave way to a hysterical helpless thrashing as the blonde captive desperately tried to escape her bonds.

“Yeah she really cannot stand it under the toes” Kimberley commented.

“I don’t know what fabric is under their but it feels all bobbly and weird on my fingers” Matilda replied.

“Yeah these socks are amazing do you notice all the little patches of fabric that are designed to hold the sheer soles right next to the wearer’s skin?” Kimberley added.

“Does that make them tickle more?” Matilda asked.

“Oh yeah, being tickled in loose nylons has its perks but these babies will tickle so much more! And that scratchy stuff under the toes, I can’t imagine what that feels like!” Kimberley beamed.

Matilda leaned in closer and whispered; “If you’re curious I picked up a third pair in your size…”

Kimberley blushed and paused, eventually she replied quietly; “Maybe later if you are good!”

Matilda returned to torture Claire who as the ringleader was most deserving of her attention. As the torture continued the spider’s web attracted a crowd and hands a-plenty explored the two helpless victims. Matilda was slightly claustrophobic, especially where crowds of people were concerned so she decided to creep out of the huddle and stand back. She turned to behold the scene and watched as Claire and Lauren’s torture continued. She suddenly realised how hungry she was, it being a while since she ate her cookie in the sanctuary. She located her lunch box from the large bag Mark had been carrying and nibbled on a sandwich as she watched the crowd thin out. She spotted her cousin Mark talking to a tall Blonde woman in a Black leather outfit with high boots and lots of straps and buckles that displayed her soft flawless skin. She had noticed him talking to her earlier before he disappeared for a while; as she finished her sandwich she noticed the woman’s Blue feather pendant, she held a piece of paper in her hand and pointed at Kimberly and Samantha. Mark beckoned Samantha over and after a brief conversation Samantha left with the woman.

Matilda ambled back to the crowd with a bottle of water to re-hydrate her two victims who were each given a drink through the plugs in their ball-gags during a brief respite. Lauren accepted the clear water gratefully whilst Claire struggled delirious and convinced this was a new aspect to her torture;

“C’mon drink up like a good slave, we don’t want you passing out on us again!” Kimberley teased.

“Just how much of the serum did you put in this water, Wench Morweena?” Margaret asked.

“Serum?.. Oh yeah! All of it! Her sensitivity will be increased to unbearable levels!” Matilda replied, picking up on the rouse.

“Excellent she will be too ticklish to walk for months!” Kimberley added, enjoying the cruel trick.

Claire struggled and tried to resist swallowing the water that was poured into her ball-gag. Kimberley pinched her nose close and tilted her head back whilst Margaret teased her.

“Drink up ticklish little Calix, we witnessed a lovely trick involving goats earlier! Perhaps your feet are in need of a briny treatment to see how much more sensitive a Tickle Slave can get!” Margaret purred, enjoying Claire frightened whimpers and desperate struggles.

“Calix Meus Inebrians!” Matilda added with a smile.

“What?” Kimberley and Margaret replied confused.

“Not the right crowd for Latin jokes!” An unknown voice replied quietly.

Claire meanwhile was horrified; she had awoken from a ticklish nightmare to find herself trapped in a living tickle-hell. It was only now her hood had been pulled back that she beheld the device she was captive in. To her delirious mind the water she was being forced to drink truly was tickle serum. Her nerves were pushed to their very limit. The prospect of the goat’s tongues horrified her more, such torture was one of her worst fears and ultimate fantasies to inflict on someone else. Claire obediently gulped down the water she desperately needed in the hope to avoid such torture, she was frightened by the prospect of the serum but she knew that the goat’s tongue would be worse. Had she been thinking straight she would have released her captor’s rouse; there was no such thing as a tickling serum. Claire had read about them online as fiction and liked the idea, due to exhaustion she truly believed the water she drank would make her more sensitive. Claire’s tickle torture resumed and she was certain she was more ticklish as a result of the serum. Worse still the water she had been force fed had made its way straight to her bladder, the prospect of being forced to wet herself terrified her, she was sure these sadists would push her that far and she tried to keep still. Her subtle movements were noticed by the web owners however and thinking of their suits they insisted on taking her down.

Claire trembled in the late afternoon air. The suit had been removed and she was due to be escorted to the bathroom. Her soft pale skin was soaked in sweat and the suit had to be hung up to dry before being put away. In her bra and panties, the ginger teenager was handcuffed and led along with Lauren to the gatehouse, she watched as two volunteers were secured to the web, each had agreed on a maximum time limit and a safe word. The first volunteer; a woman in her mid-thirties with dense dark curly hair upped her ten minutes to twenty to match the younger blonde who was eager to be strapped in the web. Each wore a blue feather necklace, as the straps were applied the brunette thought to herself; ‘Good job! Kathy! You know you can’t take twenty minutes!’

Kimberley and Margaret left on escort duty. Matilda was volunteered to stay with the bags and wait for Mark and Samantha to return. She helped herself to another sandwich and watched the two women struggle where Lauren and Claire had previous suffered. The Dutch used a different position this time each woman was stretched out in a narrower X horizontally, each one had a hand placed close to the foot of the other so they could tickle as they were tickled. The crowd made this impossible and each was driven into tickle hell, as Matilda watched this position was abandoned and each victim was rotated to an upright star shape. During this repositioning Mark and Samantha returned with the tall Scandinavian woman. Samantha looked particularly shaken.

“Ah! vere have all your yellow feather venches gone?” The newcomer asked.

“They took Calix and Loreena for a bathroom break” Matilda replied, certain the woman’s accent was fake.

“Ah looks like you only have vis one to offer for ve second ten minutes” The woman replied, striking fear into Matilda’s hearts.

“Oh no sorry this is my cousin!” Mark replied.

“She has eine yellow fezzer? You promised me two ten minute sessions tickling vee wenches of my choice in exchange for a twenty-minute session in vich you failed to break me!”. The woman replied, subtly manipulating Mark.

“Well I thought you meant Ki-Wench Rametta…” Mark began, something in his tone worried Matilda.

“Martin, she can’t take this don’t do it” Samantha added, sensing her boyfriend’s tone.

“No….You can’t tickle me!” Matilda protested.

“Oh look! How she squirms! It makes me vant her at my mercy even more!” The tall Blonde exclaimed, delighted with Matilda’s frightened little quivers.

“No please! Mark! You said I wouldn’t be tickled!” Matilda protested, remembering the conversation at the theme park where she had accepted the yellow feather.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tickle the brunette? You were so keen earlier” Mark offered.

“Zat was before I saw this timid little school-mouse!” The woman beamed, focus on Matilda, her hungry stare making the short academic girl squirm.

“Yeah things is…” Mark began

“Perhaps, seven minutes wiv zis one and another seven with your Rametta!” The woman offered.

“But that adds up to fourteen!” Matilda protested.

“Or just ten wiv zis one!” The woman added.

“How about five and five” Mark offered.

“Mark!” Matilda shouted, forgetting to use his pseudonym, a glance from Samantha reminded her of the rules but she was so scared.

“Five is no good! I can’t use all of ze attachments for my gloves!” The woman replied.

“Mark trust me those gloves are evil, Morweena won’t be able to take it!” Samantha offered.

“Vell perhaps I vill take ‘little miss squeals-a lot’ for anozer twenty!” The woman threatened, causing Samantha to cower.

Matilda was frightened; ‘what was all this about gloves?’. She wanted Kimberley to get back so she could protect her, the two had built up a bond and she was sure the brunette would protect her.

“Okay, Okay! How about I take each of your wenches including zee two from zee veb for six minutes and in exchange I vill give you all twenty-six minutes in vich to try und break me”.

“That seems fair!” Mark conceded, his desire to keep Matilda safe obscured by another chance to tickle the tall beauty.

“No!” Matilda protested, utterly horrified.

Mark turned his back as the woman seized Matilda gleefully, a few helpful members of the crowd held her still as she was handcuffed and gagged. Her eyes widened as she was led away ‘This couldn’t be happening! No! Not again!’ She thought.

She passed Kimberley who looked concerned whilst Margaret just grinned, Lauren was too exhausted to acknowledge her but Matilda was sure she saw a vengeful gleam in Claire’s eyes.

She was to be tickled again, by a stranger! All the torments she had inflicted on Claire and Lauren would now be practised on her. She dreaded the soft sensations on her feet; ‘And what was that about gloves?’ Samantha had brushed off her long tickling session in the stocks with a satisfied smile but in only ten minutes this woman had truly rattled her to the core! Matilda trembled as her captor led her to a pair of stocks, she had never been locked in a pair before and struggled as the crowd helped secure her in place. The heavy wooden board closed over her ankles and panic set in, Matilda thrashed against the manacles that held her arms and the strap over her knees, she couldn’t take this!

Why was nobody helping her she couldn’t take this!....

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To be continued

Honestly I just can never get enough of this series! I just love every entry!