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Just a quick not to say that this one is slightly sexual and not in the way my stories have been before. I wouldn't advertise it as /M and am not into that anyway, never-the-less some readers may not be okay with what I have written but as I have said many times before: It just went that way!' 
- - - - -
Bridget smiled at her new friend as they left the gatehouse. The tall young man strode with his long legs the tight trousers of his clockwork orange costume, directing her to the row of stocks she had been locked into a set of. The stocks varied from single sets to triples with six holes, they had just started to thin out as the initial flood of visitors ebbed and the event’s patrons explored the rest of the castle. Despite the occasional empty set there were still plenty of sexy feet waiting to be tickled and the duo methodologically worked from start to finish, returning to experiment upon new arrivals as they made their way towards Bridget’s former single set at the very end. Occasionally Duncan would look over his shoulder and notice a particularly alluring victim in the opposite set and insist upon swapping sides.
The many victims blurred into a homogenous mass of happy memories for the pair. Bridget liked to tickle as much as she loved to be tickled and slowly began to favour a more intense technique than the soft teasing feather strokes that she herself adored. Bridget couldn’t stop smiling at Duncan, as torturous as the ordeal he had put her through was, she was thrilled by his attention and company. She would slip off her Sandals and place her feet in his lap as they explored the many ticklish soles on offer. He would softly tickle her arches his fingertips or run a feather between her toes as they drove the many trapped women insane with a selection of instruments including the rubber page turners from Duncan’s pouch. Bridget giggled as Duncan squirmed; it was obvious he had an erection, a fact only his pouch hid as his tight white trousers left little to the imagination. Bridget liked what she saw and waited for the right time to make her move, after the first six or seven pairs of feet the time was right as they settled in to give a delightful brunette a long slow teasing tickle torture session.
Their victim was absolutely gorgeous and had a wonderful soft laugh that cried out for more delicious torture to be administered. Duncan had not been able to resist using both hands on the trapped Goddess’s soles; they were silky soft with perfect toes tied back tightly. His victim had a sexy laugh interspersed with desperate pleas for mercy, he had been torturing her far worse with the page turners but loved the way her feet felt under his finger-tips. Suddenly Bridget ran her foot up his thigh, pausing between his knee and inner thigh. Duncan took the hint and tickled Bridget’s foot, she giggled and blushed. She planned to grip his manhood with her clever toes but had lost her nerve at the last minute.
“No please let me go! You’re driving me insane” Their victim begged softly, she almost had tears in her eyes but still giggled delightfully.
“Do you hear that? We are tickling her insane!” Duncan announced ecstatically, he laughed and began to sing;
I’m tickling her Insane! Just tickling her insane!
What a glorious feeling! I’m hap-hap- happy again!
Bridget laughed, she vaguely remembered this song being sung in the film his costume was from. Duncan was handsome but seemed awkward like he wasn’t used to his own body. Suddenly he seemed so much more confident and in control;
Her arches we trace! Locked tightly in place!
She’s laughing so much, feet soft to the touch!
Let us torment without refrain, there’s a smile on her face!
And I’m singing, just singing!... And tickling her insane!
Bridget enjoyed this little song, it wasn’t perfect but quite a good adaptation for a spur of the moment thing. As he finished Duncan stood and climbed over the stocks, menacing the brunette’s upper body, smirking and gloating;
“Giggle well, little sister! Giggle well!”
The look of fear in the brunette’s eyes delighted Duncan, Bridget was joined by a few more patrons and slipped her sandals back on as she tickled. Eventually the attending Black Feather, a spry juggler decided that their victim had suffered enough and needed to go the sanctuary. Like the rest of the crowd Duncan was disappointed.
“Don’t worry! This way she will stay and we get to tickle her a lot more!” Alice the juggler consoled him having noticed his expression.
Together the Duo made their way down the line of the stocks to a pair of feet Duncan recognised. Earlier that day; before Diane had called him back, he had tickled the feet of a woman dressed like a fancy lady out of an old costume drama. Initially he had resented being called back like a dog but then realised that if she curled her toes and fired the flintlock pistols he would have been locked in the stocks next to her. Still he remembered glancing over his shoulder as a stunningly gorgeous Indian woman had caused one of the pistols to fire. Diane had pouted as he later insisted on tickling her and two other women ensnared by the same trap. The sensitive Indian woman was gone but the young Blonde was still trapped in the stocks, the older woman Duncan had also tickled was free and taunting her as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“No! Auntie! Please let me out!” The Young blonde begged.
“Do you know why they let me out and not you?” The older woman answered.
“Yes because you’re not as pret-HA-HA-HA-HA! AUNTIE NOOO!” The young woman begged as her aunt began using her cruel nails to truly torment her arches.
“It is because you squirm and beg in an altogether more pleasing fashion!” Tracy declared, tickling her niece for insulting her; which admittedly was probably the result of a mild delirium from enduring such a long torture session.
Duncan and Bridget slowly approached, they had watched the highwayman and his wife and decided not to participate in this particular game. The young blonde temptress at the end of her tether was an altogether rarer treat; they recognised the signs, soon she would be taken off the menu. On her board was simply the words; Silly Girl.
“Do you mind if we have a go?” Bridget asked, growing ever more confident.
“Be my guest!” Tracy replied, her sadist streak was in full swing and her young niece was suffering as a result.
Duncan decided to explore the blonde’s upper body first, leaving Bridget with his homemade finger-toppers that drove the blonde berserk. Instead he used his bare fingertips on her underarms which were an absolute goldmine as well as exploring her ribs and tummy which did not disappoint. Lena had started to thrash and spit so Duncan sat behind her and grabbed her in a bear-hug, being careful not to touch her breasts or let his erection touch her; despite his awkward movements he managed to trap his victim completely and focus on her soft smooth underarms that felt like silk under his fingertips.
At Lena’s feet her Aunt had borrowed several of the rubber page turners from Bridget, intrigued by the novel idea and obvious effectiveness of the cruel accessories. Like Bridget she accompanied the unbearable finger tickles with the strokes of a feather between her nieces’ toes. Tracy smiled at the freckly ginger slave-girl who conducted herself with a spritely confidence that suited her to the ground, she was sure she had seen her looking shy and nervous earlier that morning but now here she was. Tracy lightly traced the feather in the gap between the young ginger’s arches and sandals. Bridget squirmed and giggled, and to Tracy’s utter delight slipped her long pale feet free of the brown leather straps and placed them in her lap. Bridget grinned at wiggled her toes whilst still softly tickling the stocked blonde, she turned towards Tracy and let her green feather necklace show.
“Ah is see! Like that is it?” Tracy asked.
“I like feather tickles best of all!” Bridget replied with a coy smile.
Tracy obliged and shared the feather between her niece’s helpless toes and the newcomer’s accepting soles. Lena; her niece, was utterly frantic, thrashing in her bondage and gabbling muffled incoherent protests. Without Tracy noticing one of the Black feathers had gagged her as she had been making far too much noise. The handsome man in his silly costume had moved on to tickling her trapped thighs and knees that were held down with a leather strap. Meanwhile to newcomers had taken over her underarms and side, pushing her beyond her capacity to stand the horrible sensations that assaulted her frazzled nervous system.
“Awwwwaaannhrgteeee BBBllleeeaaafffsss!” She screamed into her ball-gag, hoping her aunt would make out the words ‘Auntie Please’
“I bet you used to tickle this one mercilessly when she was little!” Bridget asked the older woman.
“Of course not!” Tracy snapped fluttering her nails across the young ginger girl’s soles.
Bridget whipped her foot away surprised by both the sudden sharp sensations and the older woman’s reaction.
“I’m sorry… I just thought…” Bridget tried, reddening slightly.
“Well you thought wrong!... Me and my late husband never tickled children! We had our special fun in the bedroom…” Tracy began before her voice cut off as the memory of Malcolm brought tears to her eyes.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Bridget comforted, laying her hand on the woman’s thigh. She remembered when her older cousin used to tickle her foot with a feather as she pretended to read, she had only been tiny and she was sure now that it had never been a sexual thing for him but still it was the origin of her fetish….
Tracy regained control of herself and smiled at the concerned young girl; “You’re a sweet girl! Don’t worry about me!” She commented, hoping to avert the spry thing’s concern.
Tracy remembered watching her niece grow up; she had spotted the sparkle years before and as a small girl Lena had even tickled her feet a few times when she wore sandals. After Malcolm’s passing she had noticed how her niece always turned her head whenever a pretty woman walked by wearing sandals, Tracy had calculated the angle of her niece’s gaze whilst using her periphery vision to take in the treat herself. That is why she was here, to teach her niece how to be subtle. She had forgotten that and lost herself in the ecstasy of the event.
“Okay I think she has suffered enough, sanctuary for as long as she needs it and then off to see if that other silly girl is still on the rack!” Tracy declared.
“Can I have a go tickling her feet first?” Duncan asked.
“Since you were kind enough to lend me these, yes!” Tracy declared, holding up the rubber page turners that still tipped her fingers, adding; “But only you, everyone else find a new victim!”
Duncan climbed over the stocks and accepted all ten of his ‘little-toys’. He went to town on Lena’s soft feet, driving her back into insanity. It was no use, he had to feel her soles with his own hands and pulled a few of the rubber caps off from his fingertips and passed them to Bridget, the freckled ginger held them in her palm towards the middle-aged woman with a pleading look in her eyes.
“Go on then!” Tracy offered with a sigh.
Bridget quickly joined Duncan taking control of Lena’s left foot. Despite the absence of upper body torture the young blonde was in hell. Her feet were her worst spot and now all she could do was thrash helplessly in her bonds and watch as the pair tormented her mercilessly. The torture was worse than before, the young man was a skilled tickler and danced his fingers quickly in a devilish pattern whilst his freckled friend chuckled and kept pace, tickling faster and more furiously than before. Lena sagged forwards, the whole world consisted of the sensations covering her soles. She felt faint as the last of her energy drained out of her, the world went dark and the sensations stopped.
“…And Cut!...” Tracy declared as her niece inhaled softly her bosom rising and saliva dribbling off her ball-gag.
“…Well done, tickled to exhaustion!.. Bravo” Tracy added as she released her niece’s bonds.
“Do you want her taking to The Sanctuary?” A Black feather asked.
“Yes please!” Tracy replied, winking at her two new friends.
“Well that was fun!” Bridget remarked, grinning at Duncan.
“So it was, shall we press on!” Duncan replied.
The pair made their way up the remaining row of the stocks towards Bridget’s former set at the end. The many victims giggled and squirmed under their administrations each hoping the pair would move on to ply their skilled fingers to other feet. A pouting temptress unluckily became the pair’s favourite. She was marched to the stocks and struggled as her glamorous black strappy high-heeled sandals were removed. She had perfect olive skin, dark curly hair that hung in shiny ringlets and deep brown eyes. She wore a sultry black dress that highlighted her sexy figure, but Duncan was more allured by the black nail polish on her perfect toes.
“I only want to be tickled softly! No stocks! No Bondage!” She protested in a Spanish accent.
“I’m afraid all Green Feathers take a turn in the stocks! And these two tickle for torture!” The Black feather announced.
“No! What are you doing?!” The unfortunate victim cried as Duncan began to tie back her big toes.
Her struggles were in vain and soon her soft sexy feet were trapped; Duncan only tied back her big toes, liking the way she squirmed.
“Tell you what if you can keep still we will only use feathers!” Bridget announced.
Maria, as her board read was unable to keep still and earnt first the quill side of the feathers used to tease her arches, then finger tickles, then Duncan’s page turners and finally hairbrushes that caused her to scream so loudly that the event organisers gagged her. Warning Duncan to go easy on her as they didn’t want her storming off. Just as Duncan was producing two electric toothbrushes he suddenly jolted upright as Bridget seized the tip of his erect penis with her long clever toes.
“Wh…ooa!” Duncan exhaled, surprised by the sudden sensation.
“I was getting lonely!” Bridget teased, her crush had neglected to tickle her feet for a while.
“Erm… can you stop! I think yo-hoo need to be in the Red Zone for this kinda stuff!” Duncan gabbled, speaking too quickly as he tried to control himself.
“What’s your name?” Bridget asked kneading his gland with her nimble toes.
“I said!... Call me Alex!” Duncan replied, referring to the pseudonym he gave Bridget derived from costume.
“About as original as ‘Ginger’ that is!” Bridget chirped.
“Okay Duncan, can you stop that I don’t want…” Duncan closed his eyes held on the brink of an orgasm, he was both aroused and humiliated.
Bridget pulled her foot away, shrugged her shoulders and smiled chirping; “Why don’t we get Red feathers?”
“Okay let’s look into it, but let’s finish tickling this one first!” Duncan answered, slightly disconcerted by the way Bridget had taken complete control of him.
“Are you sure you didn’t like that?” Bridget asked.
Duncan smiled, aroused but embarrassed; “It was okay, just embarrassing! You know out in the open…”
“Oh so you can make me orgasm in public but I can’t tease you?” Bridget asked playfully.
“It’s not that, you know! It would leave a stain!” Duncan replied glancing at his tight white trousers and imagining walking around with a semen stain for all to see, true he could change into his jeans. Still he didn’t like the way Bridget had taken complete control of him and secretly planned to punish her.
The pair abandoned ‘Maria’ to the crowd and headed out of the courtyard to explore the rest of the castle. Before they reached the rack a chubby woman passed them, she wore black flip-flops and was clearly trying not to cry.
“Hey! You okay?” Duncan asked.
The woman grabbed him in a hug and burst into tears. Bridget noticed she had nice hair and very pretty feet with cute little toes.
“Friend of yours?” She asked.
“I was tickling her in the stocks earlier, hey what’s wrong?” Duncan asked concerned.
“You people are bastards!” The woman pouted, wiping her eyes.
“Did someone hurt you?” Bridget asked, wondering if the poor woman had been tortured beyond her limits or if someone ignored her safe-word.
“No! They… I… everyone keeps calling me fat!” The woman blubbered, it had taken weeks for her to get up the nerve to order her Green Feather and she guessed that if she went with the cheapest option it wouldn’t matter if she chickened out. She hadn’t been prepared for the mean woman in red, countless awkward rejections and then the next person to take a cheap shot at the extra weight she carried.
Duncan escorted her to the gatehouse, trying to persuade her to stay. He honestly found the woman attractive, she had a lovely smile and sexy feet and wore her extra weight well. Still he was awkward, being no good at this sort of thing. At first his combined efforts to placate her seemed to have little effect but eventually Bridget won the tearful woman over, she subtly commented on how pretty her feet were and how much she was jealous of her toes…
“Not like my long toes, see these are finger-toes!” She giggled wiggling her long toes in their sandals.
“Yes! Very nimble, finger-toes!” Duncan added, placing the emphasis on the word nimble.
Their new friend smiled shyly, feeling slightly better. She was persuaded into a vacant set of stocks next to Maria who had been tied back, her arms secured to a stake behind her. Duncan realised this meant she would probably be released soon as this change in position usually occurred after the-half way point in a Green Feather’s session in the stocks. He was keen to feel the soft skin of her arches under his fingertips again but first he knew he must tickle the pretty feet being deprived of their black flips-flops. Not that he minded; he liked to tickle women of all shapes and sizes, and she did have really pretty wide feet with soft round heels and short toes.
“What’s your name sweetie?” Bridget asked.
“Call me Rosie!” The placated woman answered, happy at the prospect of being softly tickled.
The pair softly tickled her electing delightful giggles. Duncan couldn’t help himself and gave Maria soft soles another tickle before she was taken away to the sanctuary. In her place a protesting hipster-chick was secured in the stocks. She wore pre-slashed jeans and mismatched converses, her entire appearance betrayed pretentious privilege and a tangible falseness that couldn’t quite be explained. Her wrists were adorned with many coloured bands from the countless festivals she had attended. Duncan could not resist tickling her into insanity, it was apparent from her protests that she had not understood what sort of event this was. Bridget cleared her throat and shot daggers at Duncan with her eyes to persuade him back to Rosie’s soles. Duncan couldn’t help it, he was like a small child in a sweet shop. Everyone lost track of time. The festival attendee was gagged, Bridget suspected she had offended the Black Feathers somehow. Her musing were cut short as Rosie began to beg;
“Tickle me harder! More tickling!” Through her fake tan the redness of her skin betrayed her condition.
Bridget remembered her involuntary tickle-gasm and the threat of punishment. She wasn’t sure if the released ‘Maria’ would snitch on her sneaky foot-play with her crush’s erect penis and didn’t want to be discovered tickling another woman to climax…
“I’m sorry sweetie! But we need to be in this ‘Red-zone’ thing for what you want…”
Rosie was released sunk sullenly into a resentful heaving ball of frustrated flesh.
“Oh c’mon little sister…” Duncan began before stopping mid-sentence, his silence making his attempt to placate Rosie worse than anything he could have added before stumbling and stuttering.
“No-one wants to tickle me!” Rosie muttered to herself
“Sure they do!” Bridget chirped.
“No they don’t, you are just being nice to me!” Rosie mumbled.
“Care for a wager?” Bridget asked, adding; “I bet I could get people to tickle these sexy feet until you orgasm and beg for the torture to stop!”
Rosie stiffened and eyed Bridget critically, something about the spry freckled ginger slave was so fervent she was sure the delights she offered were possible. But Rosie was stubborn and retorted; “No you can’t”
“Care to make it interesting? If I can, then you have to take the torture for as long as they care to deliver it!” Bridget softly offered, her voice both menacing and exciting to Rosie.
Rosie agreed to the wager and Bridget smiled. She had heard the petite woman in 1920’s clothing threatening the festival attendee with ‘the sand-pit’ after she threatened to sue if not released from the stocks. Apparently the flapper was a lawyer and the spoilt rich girl in no position to bargain. Bridget had made a mental note of the term ‘sand-pit’ and hoped it meant what she suspected. She was right!
The trio arrived to witness a scene at the sand-pit. One brunette was being dug out of the sand whilst her more athletic friend looked confused and frightened. Duncan thought he recognised the athletic brunette from the gatehouse and rack. The woman in 1920’s clothing berated a Goth Black Feather in colourful clothes who sullenly accepted the tirade whilst the pair of brunettes slunk off hand in hand. As the sand-pit was deserted Duncan and Bridget persuaded Rosie into a fresh towel and encouraged her into the hole. Each had researched the mechanics of this method of restraint online.
“Are you sure they don’t mind you just doing this?” Rosie asked nervously wiggling her toes.
“Of course not! You came here to be tickled didn’t you!” Bridget replied, remembering Rosie’s desperate pleas for more intense torture.
Rosie was arranged into a position of total helplessness. She was blindfolded, her hands were slightly behind her back and Duncan even persuaded her to push her fingers down into the sand through the towel in which she was tightly wrapped. The sand pressed down on Rosie and she began to get nervous, she had watched videos of women tickled like this and wondered how bad it was; sometimes she was sure they could kick themselves free if they really wanted, mostly though she desperately craved to be the women in those videos. She also loved videos where women were tickled whilst wrapped up in cling film or locked in boxes. She had a deep dark fantasy of a rogue weight-loss scheme tickling her thin by these methods, forcing her to orgasm again and again with vibrating panties as they tickled her senseless day after day, night after night. Completely dominating her and only allowing her the calories she needed to survive through a tube…
Rosie’s fantasies were getting her wet already, the recent tickling already exciting her libido. She felt her toes being tied back and presumed the three thin poles were being employed to stretch out her short rounded toes. She inhaled deeply and tried to curl her toes against the soft thread that completely her immobilisation, suddenly she remembered what one of the brunette’s had been wearing, they were like the panties from that video. But surely, those were only allowed in this ‘Red Zone’….?
Rosie’s curiosity was cut short as the tickling began. Duncan and Bridget began softly using feathers between her trapped toes before exploring her arches with their fingertips and then Duncan’s ‘little toys’. Her frantic and breathy laughter brought more attention and soon her soles were being tickled by four or five ticklers. Rosie began to regret her foolish wager as she felt her loins pulsate with excitement. Not only did the merciless tickling arouse her but her frantic involuntary struggles combined with her tight inescapable bondage rubbed her womanhood in just the right way. She could not stop or disguise the primal orgasmic howls that brought Betty back to the sand-pit.
“I thought we took away the…” She began, assuming the panties were being used again.
“I think she just likes what we are doing!” Duncan replied.
“Oh right… Well that reminds me, we have had a few complaints about you two! After I have sorted the other liability I need to have a word…” Betty snipped, clearly stressed by the organising the event.
Duncan was more worried than Bridget who lay on her tummy teasing Rosie’s soft toes with a feather whilst her own long pale soles were tickled by a selected of men and women. Rosie was pushed into tickle hell, the orgasm had made her more sensitive and her face and feet were a deep pink as she was stimulated to hysteria and further unstoppable multiple orgasms as her deepest darkest fantasies were satisfied until she could take it no longer.
“Okay! Okay!.... You win!... Dig me out now!” She begged, hypersensitive and helpless.
“I think we have definitely won this bet!” Bridget commented as Duncan secured a ball-gag in Rosie’s gasping mouth.
Rosie’s blindfold was removed and the pair held up a handwritten sign for their victim to read during a much needed reprieve. As her eyes adjusted to the sunlight Rosie made out the words;
I lost a bet! Under no circumstance dig me out!
Please tickle my feet mercilessly without cessation until I pass out.
No matter what you think you hear I really love this and want you to tickle me harder.
Love Rosie x x x
- - - -
Rosie’s eyes widened in terror as the sign was turned and pushed into the sand by her feet. Bridget placed a plastic bucket with air holes over her head leaving only her feet poking up out of the sand. At first Rosie sighed, enjoying a pleasant massage that took her by massage. She sighed in post-orgasmic bliss as the oil was rubbed into her hot red soles.
“Don’t relax too soon” She heard Bridget’s voice; “this is just sun cream! We don’t want these pretty feet matching that fake tan you need to get rid of!”
Rosie was too delirious to be insulted, Bridget hadn’t meant to let her voice betray such spite but she really hated her new friend’s streaky near-orange fake tan. Rosie was clearly a total sweetheart but her appearance reminded Bridget of the awful girls who teased her about her freckles and ginger hair when she was at school. Before she could apologise Duncan interrupted;
“… And before leaving you to the tender mercies of the crowd we shall be introducing these sexy feet to the wonders of hairbrushes!”.
Rosie went utterly berserk as hundreds of bristles and little plastic balls danced over her arches. Electric toothbrushes explored her toes and she desperately struggled under the heavy sand. She was no longer aroused but was a hundred times more sensitive after the first barrage of orgasms. She would experience many more as countless patrons tickled her soft feet. Rosie half heard Duncan and Bridget called a way to answer some questions involving a woman in red and some ‘inappropriate foot-play’ someone called Maria had reported. She forgot they were gone and cried them for mercy as her torture continued, near delirious as ecstasy and agony vied for control of her nervous system.
Rosie cursed her wager and desires for this horrible torture. Still Rosie would remember her first orgasmic torture session for the rest of her life, she would never stop trying to reproduce the thrill. Despite never failing to excite her to multiple orgasms these attempts never had the same desperate excitement as her first session in the sand box. She later learnt that her new friend’s lived not far from her and in between events at the castle the trio met for tickling fun. After shyly asking they satisfied her desires to be wrapped in cling film and trapped in boxes. So it was Rosie came in time to be thankful she took Bridget’s wager, however for now her desperate unobserved fury raged against the sand that held her tightly in place and the plastic bucket that added to her hopeless sense of confinement.
- - - - -
Bridget smiled at her new friend as they left the gatehouse. The tall young man strode with his long legs the tight trousers of his clockwork orange costume, directing her to the row of stocks she had been locked into a set of. The stocks varied from single sets to triples with six holes, they had just started to thin out as the initial flood of visitors ebbed and the event’s patrons explored the rest of the castle. Despite the occasional empty set there were still plenty of sexy feet waiting to be tickled and the duo methodologically worked from start to finish, returning to experiment upon new arrivals as they made their way towards Bridget’s former single set at the very end. Occasionally Duncan would look over his shoulder and notice a particularly alluring victim in the opposite set and insist upon swapping sides.
The many victims blurred into a homogenous mass of happy memories for the pair. Bridget liked to tickle as much as she loved to be tickled and slowly began to favour a more intense technique than the soft teasing feather strokes that she herself adored. Bridget couldn’t stop smiling at Duncan, as torturous as the ordeal he had put her through was, she was thrilled by his attention and company. She would slip off her Sandals and place her feet in his lap as they explored the many ticklish soles on offer. He would softly tickle her arches his fingertips or run a feather between her toes as they drove the many trapped women insane with a selection of instruments including the rubber page turners from Duncan’s pouch. Bridget giggled as Duncan squirmed; it was obvious he had an erection, a fact only his pouch hid as his tight white trousers left little to the imagination. Bridget liked what she saw and waited for the right time to make her move, after the first six or seven pairs of feet the time was right as they settled in to give a delightful brunette a long slow teasing tickle torture session.
Their victim was absolutely gorgeous and had a wonderful soft laugh that cried out for more delicious torture to be administered. Duncan had not been able to resist using both hands on the trapped Goddess’s soles; they were silky soft with perfect toes tied back tightly. His victim had a sexy laugh interspersed with desperate pleas for mercy, he had been torturing her far worse with the page turners but loved the way her feet felt under his finger-tips. Suddenly Bridget ran her foot up his thigh, pausing between his knee and inner thigh. Duncan took the hint and tickled Bridget’s foot, she giggled and blushed. She planned to grip his manhood with her clever toes but had lost her nerve at the last minute.
“No please let me go! You’re driving me insane” Their victim begged softly, she almost had tears in her eyes but still giggled delightfully.
“Do you hear that? We are tickling her insane!” Duncan announced ecstatically, he laughed and began to sing;
I’m tickling her Insane! Just tickling her insane!
What a glorious feeling! I’m hap-hap- happy again!
Bridget laughed, she vaguely remembered this song being sung in the film his costume was from. Duncan was handsome but seemed awkward like he wasn’t used to his own body. Suddenly he seemed so much more confident and in control;
Her arches we trace! Locked tightly in place!
She’s laughing so much, feet soft to the touch!
Let us torment without refrain, there’s a smile on her face!
And I’m singing, just singing!... And tickling her insane!
Bridget enjoyed this little song, it wasn’t perfect but quite a good adaptation for a spur of the moment thing. As he finished Duncan stood and climbed over the stocks, menacing the brunette’s upper body, smirking and gloating;
“Giggle well, little sister! Giggle well!”
The look of fear in the brunette’s eyes delighted Duncan, Bridget was joined by a few more patrons and slipped her sandals back on as she tickled. Eventually the attending Black Feather, a spry juggler decided that their victim had suffered enough and needed to go the sanctuary. Like the rest of the crowd Duncan was disappointed.
“Don’t worry! This way she will stay and we get to tickle her a lot more!” Alice the juggler consoled him having noticed his expression.
Together the Duo made their way down the line of the stocks to a pair of feet Duncan recognised. Earlier that day; before Diane had called him back, he had tickled the feet of a woman dressed like a fancy lady out of an old costume drama. Initially he had resented being called back like a dog but then realised that if she curled her toes and fired the flintlock pistols he would have been locked in the stocks next to her. Still he remembered glancing over his shoulder as a stunningly gorgeous Indian woman had caused one of the pistols to fire. Diane had pouted as he later insisted on tickling her and two other women ensnared by the same trap. The sensitive Indian woman was gone but the young Blonde was still trapped in the stocks, the older woman Duncan had also tickled was free and taunting her as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“No! Auntie! Please let me out!” The Young blonde begged.
“Do you know why they let me out and not you?” The older woman answered.
“Yes because you’re not as pret-HA-HA-HA-HA! AUNTIE NOOO!” The young woman begged as her aunt began using her cruel nails to truly torment her arches.
“It is because you squirm and beg in an altogether more pleasing fashion!” Tracy declared, tickling her niece for insulting her; which admittedly was probably the result of a mild delirium from enduring such a long torture session.
Duncan and Bridget slowly approached, they had watched the highwayman and his wife and decided not to participate in this particular game. The young blonde temptress at the end of her tether was an altogether rarer treat; they recognised the signs, soon she would be taken off the menu. On her board was simply the words; Silly Girl.
“Do you mind if we have a go?” Bridget asked, growing ever more confident.
“Be my guest!” Tracy replied, her sadist streak was in full swing and her young niece was suffering as a result.
Duncan decided to explore the blonde’s upper body first, leaving Bridget with his homemade finger-toppers that drove the blonde berserk. Instead he used his bare fingertips on her underarms which were an absolute goldmine as well as exploring her ribs and tummy which did not disappoint. Lena had started to thrash and spit so Duncan sat behind her and grabbed her in a bear-hug, being careful not to touch her breasts or let his erection touch her; despite his awkward movements he managed to trap his victim completely and focus on her soft smooth underarms that felt like silk under his fingertips.
At Lena’s feet her Aunt had borrowed several of the rubber page turners from Bridget, intrigued by the novel idea and obvious effectiveness of the cruel accessories. Like Bridget she accompanied the unbearable finger tickles with the strokes of a feather between her nieces’ toes. Tracy smiled at the freckly ginger slave-girl who conducted herself with a spritely confidence that suited her to the ground, she was sure she had seen her looking shy and nervous earlier that morning but now here she was. Tracy lightly traced the feather in the gap between the young ginger’s arches and sandals. Bridget squirmed and giggled, and to Tracy’s utter delight slipped her long pale feet free of the brown leather straps and placed them in her lap. Bridget grinned at wiggled her toes whilst still softly tickling the stocked blonde, she turned towards Tracy and let her green feather necklace show.
“Ah is see! Like that is it?” Tracy asked.
“I like feather tickles best of all!” Bridget replied with a coy smile.
Tracy obliged and shared the feather between her niece’s helpless toes and the newcomer’s accepting soles. Lena; her niece, was utterly frantic, thrashing in her bondage and gabbling muffled incoherent protests. Without Tracy noticing one of the Black feathers had gagged her as she had been making far too much noise. The handsome man in his silly costume had moved on to tickling her trapped thighs and knees that were held down with a leather strap. Meanwhile to newcomers had taken over her underarms and side, pushing her beyond her capacity to stand the horrible sensations that assaulted her frazzled nervous system.
“Awwwwaaannhrgteeee BBBllleeeaaafffsss!” She screamed into her ball-gag, hoping her aunt would make out the words ‘Auntie Please’
“I bet you used to tickle this one mercilessly when she was little!” Bridget asked the older woman.
“Of course not!” Tracy snapped fluttering her nails across the young ginger girl’s soles.
Bridget whipped her foot away surprised by both the sudden sharp sensations and the older woman’s reaction.
“I’m sorry… I just thought…” Bridget tried, reddening slightly.
“Well you thought wrong!... Me and my late husband never tickled children! We had our special fun in the bedroom…” Tracy began before her voice cut off as the memory of Malcolm brought tears to her eyes.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Bridget comforted, laying her hand on the woman’s thigh. She remembered when her older cousin used to tickle her foot with a feather as she pretended to read, she had only been tiny and she was sure now that it had never been a sexual thing for him but still it was the origin of her fetish….
Tracy regained control of herself and smiled at the concerned young girl; “You’re a sweet girl! Don’t worry about me!” She commented, hoping to avert the spry thing’s concern.
Tracy remembered watching her niece grow up; she had spotted the sparkle years before and as a small girl Lena had even tickled her feet a few times when she wore sandals. After Malcolm’s passing she had noticed how her niece always turned her head whenever a pretty woman walked by wearing sandals, Tracy had calculated the angle of her niece’s gaze whilst using her periphery vision to take in the treat herself. That is why she was here, to teach her niece how to be subtle. She had forgotten that and lost herself in the ecstasy of the event.
“Okay I think she has suffered enough, sanctuary for as long as she needs it and then off to see if that other silly girl is still on the rack!” Tracy declared.
“Can I have a go tickling her feet first?” Duncan asked.
“Since you were kind enough to lend me these, yes!” Tracy declared, holding up the rubber page turners that still tipped her fingers, adding; “But only you, everyone else find a new victim!”
Duncan climbed over the stocks and accepted all ten of his ‘little-toys’. He went to town on Lena’s soft feet, driving her back into insanity. It was no use, he had to feel her soles with his own hands and pulled a few of the rubber caps off from his fingertips and passed them to Bridget, the freckled ginger held them in her palm towards the middle-aged woman with a pleading look in her eyes.
“Go on then!” Tracy offered with a sigh.
Bridget quickly joined Duncan taking control of Lena’s left foot. Despite the absence of upper body torture the young blonde was in hell. Her feet were her worst spot and now all she could do was thrash helplessly in her bonds and watch as the pair tormented her mercilessly. The torture was worse than before, the young man was a skilled tickler and danced his fingers quickly in a devilish pattern whilst his freckled friend chuckled and kept pace, tickling faster and more furiously than before. Lena sagged forwards, the whole world consisted of the sensations covering her soles. She felt faint as the last of her energy drained out of her, the world went dark and the sensations stopped.
“…And Cut!...” Tracy declared as her niece inhaled softly her bosom rising and saliva dribbling off her ball-gag.
“…Well done, tickled to exhaustion!.. Bravo” Tracy added as she released her niece’s bonds.
“Do you want her taking to The Sanctuary?” A Black feather asked.
“Yes please!” Tracy replied, winking at her two new friends.
“Well that was fun!” Bridget remarked, grinning at Duncan.
“So it was, shall we press on!” Duncan replied.
The pair made their way up the remaining row of the stocks towards Bridget’s former set at the end. The many victims giggled and squirmed under their administrations each hoping the pair would move on to ply their skilled fingers to other feet. A pouting temptress unluckily became the pair’s favourite. She was marched to the stocks and struggled as her glamorous black strappy high-heeled sandals were removed. She had perfect olive skin, dark curly hair that hung in shiny ringlets and deep brown eyes. She wore a sultry black dress that highlighted her sexy figure, but Duncan was more allured by the black nail polish on her perfect toes.
“I only want to be tickled softly! No stocks! No Bondage!” She protested in a Spanish accent.
“I’m afraid all Green Feathers take a turn in the stocks! And these two tickle for torture!” The Black feather announced.
“No! What are you doing?!” The unfortunate victim cried as Duncan began to tie back her big toes.
Her struggles were in vain and soon her soft sexy feet were trapped; Duncan only tied back her big toes, liking the way she squirmed.
“Tell you what if you can keep still we will only use feathers!” Bridget announced.
Maria, as her board read was unable to keep still and earnt first the quill side of the feathers used to tease her arches, then finger tickles, then Duncan’s page turners and finally hairbrushes that caused her to scream so loudly that the event organisers gagged her. Warning Duncan to go easy on her as they didn’t want her storming off. Just as Duncan was producing two electric toothbrushes he suddenly jolted upright as Bridget seized the tip of his erect penis with her long clever toes.
“Wh…ooa!” Duncan exhaled, surprised by the sudden sensation.
“I was getting lonely!” Bridget teased, her crush had neglected to tickle her feet for a while.
“Erm… can you stop! I think yo-hoo need to be in the Red Zone for this kinda stuff!” Duncan gabbled, speaking too quickly as he tried to control himself.
“What’s your name?” Bridget asked kneading his gland with her nimble toes.
“I said!... Call me Alex!” Duncan replied, referring to the pseudonym he gave Bridget derived from costume.
“About as original as ‘Ginger’ that is!” Bridget chirped.
“Okay Duncan, can you stop that I don’t want…” Duncan closed his eyes held on the brink of an orgasm, he was both aroused and humiliated.
Bridget pulled her foot away, shrugged her shoulders and smiled chirping; “Why don’t we get Red feathers?”
“Okay let’s look into it, but let’s finish tickling this one first!” Duncan answered, slightly disconcerted by the way Bridget had taken complete control of him.
“Are you sure you didn’t like that?” Bridget asked.
Duncan smiled, aroused but embarrassed; “It was okay, just embarrassing! You know out in the open…”
“Oh so you can make me orgasm in public but I can’t tease you?” Bridget asked playfully.
“It’s not that, you know! It would leave a stain!” Duncan replied glancing at his tight white trousers and imagining walking around with a semen stain for all to see, true he could change into his jeans. Still he didn’t like the way Bridget had taken complete control of him and secretly planned to punish her.
The pair abandoned ‘Maria’ to the crowd and headed out of the courtyard to explore the rest of the castle. Before they reached the rack a chubby woman passed them, she wore black flip-flops and was clearly trying not to cry.
“Hey! You okay?” Duncan asked.
The woman grabbed him in a hug and burst into tears. Bridget noticed she had nice hair and very pretty feet with cute little toes.
“Friend of yours?” She asked.
“I was tickling her in the stocks earlier, hey what’s wrong?” Duncan asked concerned.
“You people are bastards!” The woman pouted, wiping her eyes.
“Did someone hurt you?” Bridget asked, wondering if the poor woman had been tortured beyond her limits or if someone ignored her safe-word.
“No! They… I… everyone keeps calling me fat!” The woman blubbered, it had taken weeks for her to get up the nerve to order her Green Feather and she guessed that if she went with the cheapest option it wouldn’t matter if she chickened out. She hadn’t been prepared for the mean woman in red, countless awkward rejections and then the next person to take a cheap shot at the extra weight she carried.
Duncan escorted her to the gatehouse, trying to persuade her to stay. He honestly found the woman attractive, she had a lovely smile and sexy feet and wore her extra weight well. Still he was awkward, being no good at this sort of thing. At first his combined efforts to placate her seemed to have little effect but eventually Bridget won the tearful woman over, she subtly commented on how pretty her feet were and how much she was jealous of her toes…
“Not like my long toes, see these are finger-toes!” She giggled wiggling her long toes in their sandals.
“Yes! Very nimble, finger-toes!” Duncan added, placing the emphasis on the word nimble.
Their new friend smiled shyly, feeling slightly better. She was persuaded into a vacant set of stocks next to Maria who had been tied back, her arms secured to a stake behind her. Duncan realised this meant she would probably be released soon as this change in position usually occurred after the-half way point in a Green Feather’s session in the stocks. He was keen to feel the soft skin of her arches under his fingertips again but first he knew he must tickle the pretty feet being deprived of their black flips-flops. Not that he minded; he liked to tickle women of all shapes and sizes, and she did have really pretty wide feet with soft round heels and short toes.
“What’s your name sweetie?” Bridget asked.
“Call me Rosie!” The placated woman answered, happy at the prospect of being softly tickled.
The pair softly tickled her electing delightful giggles. Duncan couldn’t help himself and gave Maria soft soles another tickle before she was taken away to the sanctuary. In her place a protesting hipster-chick was secured in the stocks. She wore pre-slashed jeans and mismatched converses, her entire appearance betrayed pretentious privilege and a tangible falseness that couldn’t quite be explained. Her wrists were adorned with many coloured bands from the countless festivals she had attended. Duncan could not resist tickling her into insanity, it was apparent from her protests that she had not understood what sort of event this was. Bridget cleared her throat and shot daggers at Duncan with her eyes to persuade him back to Rosie’s soles. Duncan couldn’t help it, he was like a small child in a sweet shop. Everyone lost track of time. The festival attendee was gagged, Bridget suspected she had offended the Black Feathers somehow. Her musing were cut short as Rosie began to beg;
“Tickle me harder! More tickling!” Through her fake tan the redness of her skin betrayed her condition.
Bridget remembered her involuntary tickle-gasm and the threat of punishment. She wasn’t sure if the released ‘Maria’ would snitch on her sneaky foot-play with her crush’s erect penis and didn’t want to be discovered tickling another woman to climax…
“I’m sorry sweetie! But we need to be in this ‘Red-zone’ thing for what you want…”
Rosie was released sunk sullenly into a resentful heaving ball of frustrated flesh.
“Oh c’mon little sister…” Duncan began before stopping mid-sentence, his silence making his attempt to placate Rosie worse than anything he could have added before stumbling and stuttering.
“No-one wants to tickle me!” Rosie muttered to herself
“Sure they do!” Bridget chirped.
“No they don’t, you are just being nice to me!” Rosie mumbled.
“Care for a wager?” Bridget asked, adding; “I bet I could get people to tickle these sexy feet until you orgasm and beg for the torture to stop!”
Rosie stiffened and eyed Bridget critically, something about the spry freckled ginger slave was so fervent she was sure the delights she offered were possible. But Rosie was stubborn and retorted; “No you can’t”
“Care to make it interesting? If I can, then you have to take the torture for as long as they care to deliver it!” Bridget softly offered, her voice both menacing and exciting to Rosie.
Rosie agreed to the wager and Bridget smiled. She had heard the petite woman in 1920’s clothing threatening the festival attendee with ‘the sand-pit’ after she threatened to sue if not released from the stocks. Apparently the flapper was a lawyer and the spoilt rich girl in no position to bargain. Bridget had made a mental note of the term ‘sand-pit’ and hoped it meant what she suspected. She was right!
The trio arrived to witness a scene at the sand-pit. One brunette was being dug out of the sand whilst her more athletic friend looked confused and frightened. Duncan thought he recognised the athletic brunette from the gatehouse and rack. The woman in 1920’s clothing berated a Goth Black Feather in colourful clothes who sullenly accepted the tirade whilst the pair of brunettes slunk off hand in hand. As the sand-pit was deserted Duncan and Bridget persuaded Rosie into a fresh towel and encouraged her into the hole. Each had researched the mechanics of this method of restraint online.
“Are you sure they don’t mind you just doing this?” Rosie asked nervously wiggling her toes.
“Of course not! You came here to be tickled didn’t you!” Bridget replied, remembering Rosie’s desperate pleas for more intense torture.
Rosie was arranged into a position of total helplessness. She was blindfolded, her hands were slightly behind her back and Duncan even persuaded her to push her fingers down into the sand through the towel in which she was tightly wrapped. The sand pressed down on Rosie and she began to get nervous, she had watched videos of women tickled like this and wondered how bad it was; sometimes she was sure they could kick themselves free if they really wanted, mostly though she desperately craved to be the women in those videos. She also loved videos where women were tickled whilst wrapped up in cling film or locked in boxes. She had a deep dark fantasy of a rogue weight-loss scheme tickling her thin by these methods, forcing her to orgasm again and again with vibrating panties as they tickled her senseless day after day, night after night. Completely dominating her and only allowing her the calories she needed to survive through a tube…
Rosie’s fantasies were getting her wet already, the recent tickling already exciting her libido. She felt her toes being tied back and presumed the three thin poles were being employed to stretch out her short rounded toes. She inhaled deeply and tried to curl her toes against the soft thread that completely her immobilisation, suddenly she remembered what one of the brunette’s had been wearing, they were like the panties from that video. But surely, those were only allowed in this ‘Red Zone’….?
Rosie’s curiosity was cut short as the tickling began. Duncan and Bridget began softly using feathers between her trapped toes before exploring her arches with their fingertips and then Duncan’s ‘little toys’. Her frantic and breathy laughter brought more attention and soon her soles were being tickled by four or five ticklers. Rosie began to regret her foolish wager as she felt her loins pulsate with excitement. Not only did the merciless tickling arouse her but her frantic involuntary struggles combined with her tight inescapable bondage rubbed her womanhood in just the right way. She could not stop or disguise the primal orgasmic howls that brought Betty back to the sand-pit.
“I thought we took away the…” She began, assuming the panties were being used again.
“I think she just likes what we are doing!” Duncan replied.
“Oh right… Well that reminds me, we have had a few complaints about you two! After I have sorted the other liability I need to have a word…” Betty snipped, clearly stressed by the organising the event.
Duncan was more worried than Bridget who lay on her tummy teasing Rosie’s soft toes with a feather whilst her own long pale soles were tickled by a selected of men and women. Rosie was pushed into tickle hell, the orgasm had made her more sensitive and her face and feet were a deep pink as she was stimulated to hysteria and further unstoppable multiple orgasms as her deepest darkest fantasies were satisfied until she could take it no longer.
“Okay! Okay!.... You win!... Dig me out now!” She begged, hypersensitive and helpless.
“I think we have definitely won this bet!” Bridget commented as Duncan secured a ball-gag in Rosie’s gasping mouth.
Rosie’s blindfold was removed and the pair held up a handwritten sign for their victim to read during a much needed reprieve. As her eyes adjusted to the sunlight Rosie made out the words;
I lost a bet! Under no circumstance dig me out!
Please tickle my feet mercilessly without cessation until I pass out.
No matter what you think you hear I really love this and want you to tickle me harder.
Love Rosie x x x
- - - -
Rosie’s eyes widened in terror as the sign was turned and pushed into the sand by her feet. Bridget placed a plastic bucket with air holes over her head leaving only her feet poking up out of the sand. At first Rosie sighed, enjoying a pleasant massage that took her by massage. She sighed in post-orgasmic bliss as the oil was rubbed into her hot red soles.
“Don’t relax too soon” She heard Bridget’s voice; “this is just sun cream! We don’t want these pretty feet matching that fake tan you need to get rid of!”
Rosie was too delirious to be insulted, Bridget hadn’t meant to let her voice betray such spite but she really hated her new friend’s streaky near-orange fake tan. Rosie was clearly a total sweetheart but her appearance reminded Bridget of the awful girls who teased her about her freckles and ginger hair when she was at school. Before she could apologise Duncan interrupted;
“… And before leaving you to the tender mercies of the crowd we shall be introducing these sexy feet to the wonders of hairbrushes!”.
Rosie went utterly berserk as hundreds of bristles and little plastic balls danced over her arches. Electric toothbrushes explored her toes and she desperately struggled under the heavy sand. She was no longer aroused but was a hundred times more sensitive after the first barrage of orgasms. She would experience many more as countless patrons tickled her soft feet. Rosie half heard Duncan and Bridget called a way to answer some questions involving a woman in red and some ‘inappropriate foot-play’ someone called Maria had reported. She forgot they were gone and cried them for mercy as her torture continued, near delirious as ecstasy and agony vied for control of her nervous system.
Rosie cursed her wager and desires for this horrible torture. Still Rosie would remember her first orgasmic torture session for the rest of her life, she would never stop trying to reproduce the thrill. Despite never failing to excite her to multiple orgasms these attempts never had the same desperate excitement as her first session in the sand box. She later learnt that her new friend’s lived not far from her and in between events at the castle the trio met for tickling fun. After shyly asking they satisfied her desires to be wrapped in cling film and trapped in boxes. So it was Rosie came in time to be thankful she took Bridget’s wager, however for now her desperate unobserved fury raged against the sand that held her tightly in place and the plastic bucket that added to her hopeless sense of confinement.
