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Rachel shivered as she entered the Castle courtyard. Despite being from the North of England she always felt the cold. She was wrapped up warm in her big coat and thick jumper, her long sexy legs concealed by both thermal leggings and an old pair of jeans tucked into thick, snug suede boots that Rachel didn’t mind getting dirty. Inside the boots thick warm socks kept Rachel’s long feet sensitive; she always pampered her feet before coming to the castle, despite dreading the prospect of having her sensitive feet tickled. Rachel liked to tickle other women and watch them get tickled but was apprehensive to give control over to anyone else. She would frequently engage in tickle fights and the many games that involved un-restrained tickling, but knew too well how cruel her fellow ticklephiles could be.
It was this fear of being on the receiving end of merciless non-stop tickle torture that prevented Rachel from buying a Green Feather and visiting each event at the Castle. She had seen how the unfortunate women suffered in the long stocks at the start of most events, and in other cruel contraptions when the event’s imaginative organisers dreamt up new ways of making the more expensive necklaces worth the money. Rachel longed for more tickle-fun in her life and enviously pored over the pictures of events she had missed, but she knew her feet couldn’t take a session in the long stocks. Rachel worked overtime and extra shifts in a busy supermarket to buy a Blue-feather necklace for as many events as she could, but with the added cost of transport down south she limited herself to only six or seven visits to the castle each year. This year was a special occasion; the organisers had introduced a new type of ticket. Instead of a feather Rachel wore a sprig of fake mistletoe around her neck, it cost substantially less than a Blue Feather but essentially gave the wearer the same privileges. To Rachel’s delight the seasonal promotion came with an added perk; should anyone catch their eye and blow them a kiss they had to put their arms up and allow themselves to be tickled for a short while. She had stopped reading the terms and conditions at that point and danced around her bedroom with joy.
Rachel loved playful upper body tickles and anticipated a fun afternoon. The castle events were always fun, but all too often the tall shy brunette stood back and watched when she secretly wanted to be on the receiving end of the tickle-fun. Rachel loved to tickle other women and sometimes she let her victims get revenge, although not during her past few visits due to a miscalculation back in the summer. She had tickled an angelic soft-skinned blonde woman in her early thirties and kept her within what she could stand, always easing up when her struggles became too intense. Rachel preferred to keep her victims laughing in enjoyment not gasping for breath and desperate for the torture to stop. From the way graceful blonde smiled and the general fun-vibe Rachel had thought her playmate had the same preferences for light playful tickling: But Rachel was wrong.
Rachel shuddered as she remembered the curvy blonde straddling her and looking her in the eyes with a sadistic glimmer, from before the ordeal began Rachel knew she was in trouble. The angel had turned into a demon, having disguised her sadistic intent during her session under the feather. The blonde quickly found the worst spots from Rachel’s underarms to her sides, focusing particularly on her victim’s ribs and the sweet spot just above her hips. For Rachel it was pure agony, exacerbated by the way the blonde had stretched her out tight before straddling her so that she could barely move at all. Every struggle and movement was kept in check by the blonde’s body weight, which was perfectly positioned. Within a few seconds Rachel couldn’t beg and howled as her tormentor showed her no mercy, the blonde knew she was pushing her prey far beyond her limits but didn’t care, she had waited for this temptress to fall into her trap and cleverly pretended to enjoy the same light playful tickles whilst secretly craving to have the tall brunette as her own. Luckily for Rachel her captor favoured upper body torture, at the time it came as no consolation but Rachel cringed afterwards dreading what would happen if a similar sadist got hold of her feet.
Rachel’s feet were extremely sensitive from her heels to the tips of her toes, she couldn’t stand to walk across grass in bare feet or sandals. Despite dreading the prospect of her feet being tickle tortured, Rachel adored her feet and the pleasure they gave her from soft tactile stimulation. Rachel kept a collection of feathers to tease her own soles with when at home. In the summer she frequently walked barefoot at the beach; loving the way the sand felt between her toes. She used to dip her feet in and out of a bag of cheap grain, loving the way the tiny kernels felt. Eventually it had spoilt and she had replaced it with a large bucket of soft fine sand online. Rachel’s research had revealed it promised to soften skin, a pledge it had kept making Rachel’s feet even more sensitive.
Rachel liked to keep her feet looking good and used lotions and specialist tools to keep them soft and free from callouses. She always increased her efforts to keep her feet looking good despite rarely going barefoot at the castle events. At one event in the summer she wore sandals as it was simply too hot for shoes, both men and women drooled over her long pale feet with black painted toenails, high arches and perfect heels. From some women Rachel liked the attention but for many of her admirers she shivered dreading what cruel tortures they longed to inflict upon her. Rachel was shy and hated awkward situations, it had been awkward every time she ran into the blonde, no words were exchanged the disguised angel simply winked and smiled evilly at her former prey.
Rachel’s ruminations were cut short as a stout Auburn-haired woman blew her a kiss, it was one of Rachel’s favourite tickle friends. She didn’t know her name but recognised her instantly, she always reminded Rachel of a Viking shield-maiden with her long braided dark red hair. Despite her thick braids of hair giving her this fierce resemblance Rachel’s friend was convivial and pleasant; taking care to learn the spots where Rachel liked to be tickled, loving the way the tall Northern brunette squirmed and smiled. With a shy smile Rachel raised her arms and giggled in anticipation as her tickler-to-be wiggled her fingers and approached. The tickles started softly on Rachel’s tummy and moved quickly up her sides. Rachel gasped between giggles, her nerves welcoming the first thrilling sensations, she half pulled her arms down in an instinctive move to protect herself before regaining control and straightening up. With her eyes closed she slowly extended her arms up and bent her legs so her short tickler could reach her underarms. As the short but experienced fingers reached the hollows of her underarms Rachel shrieked and lost control, her tickler rewarded her by grabbing her in a bear hug. With both arms the voluptuous woman squeezed Rachel’s sides and nuzzled her tummy with her mouth.
“No!... No!!!” Rachel exclaimed amongst frantic laughter, her tone and red face betraying the fact she didn’t want the tickling to stop.
Rachel grabbed her tickle-friend in an attempt to prevent herself from falling over. She was close to her limit but trusted her tickler. Rachel sometimes fantasised about giving control over to this woman, knowing her boundaries would be respected. As the Auburn Valkyrie dropped one hand to tickle the backs of Rachel’s knees the tickling got too much for the tall brunettes to bear and she cried out;
“Okay that’s enough!”
It was a subtle change in tone but one that her tickler understood. Grinning she stopped her assault and let her friend catch her breath. A part of her longed to tie this tall beauty down and tickle her for hours, especially since she had never had a chance to tickle those soft sexy feet; but she valued the fun playful sessions too much so kept her more intense desires for the Red Zone. As Rachel’s cheeks flushed with exhilaration as the adrenaline from her recent stimulation coursed through her veins the auburn-haired wench pulled her own mistletoe necklace from the fold of her jumper with perfect timing;
“My turn?....” She asked with an inviting smile
Rachel’s eyes sparkled as she quickly blew her former tickler a kiss.
The Auburn Valkyrie smiled and removed her scarf holding it high above her head. This exposed her neck and underarms, her two favourite spots as Rachel well knew. The auburn beauty wore a strange woolly jumper that exposed her bare underarms whilst still looking very snug and warm. Rachel knew that her friend liked soft gentle tickles on her neck and underarms and slightly firmer squeezes on her sides. With glee she dug in causing the short well-built woman to giggle and chuckle but ever keep her arms up. As Rachel was using her fingertips in the hollows of her playmate’s smooth underarms she got an idea.
Rachel quickly seized both of her friend’s long braids and used the tips to swish up and down her underarms. The new unexpected sensation caught the auburn wench by surprise, she had been keeping her eyes closed and biting her lip so the new attack took her completely by surprise. Rachel laughed as she tickled, the soft bush-like tips of each braid made the perfect tickle tool and rendered her victim helpless with laughter, unable to keep still but still enjoying the tickles. Rachel dropped the braids and delivered a rigorous tummy tickle that nearly had her friend on the floor. Eventfully the two women ended up hugging and laughing to an admiring crowd who had haphazardly formed to watch the show. The crowd dispersed being drawn to the sounds of more feverish laughter coming from one of the tents.
“Shall we go and see what is happening? That sounds fun!” The Auburn Valkyrie asked.
“Erm… Sure!” Rachel stuttered, before adding: “I’m Rachel by the way!”
“Rowan!” The Auburn haired beauty replied with a smile.
Rachel and Rowan walked arm in arm to the tent, closer and more comfortable with each other than friends who had just exchanged names for the first time would normally be thanks to all the tickle games they had played together. Rachel beamed, she had been planning to learn a few of her favourite playmates’ names for a while and was thrilled that she had finally found the confidence to ask. Inside the tent two stocked women were struggling as numerous ticklers explored both their feet and upper bodies. The light-beige stocks held both their ankles and wrists with the smaller holes trapping their hands slightly higher than the ones trapping their sexy feet. Rachel could tell there was something different about the stocks but couldn’t quite put her finger on it, there was something about the way they stayed still instead of shaking…. And there was a spicy Christmassy smell in the tent too…
Rowan was chuckling as if she had heard a droll joke, she pointed to a sign attached to the back of the tent which read;
‘Whilst Stocks Last!
In large Christmassy letters. Rachel knew this had something to do with the strange light brown stocks but didn’t get it. The scene contained far too many distractions for Rachel to focus; not only was the tanned brunette on the left receiving an intense tickle torture that terrified Rachel the Goth Black Feather was directing two of her little helpers to pipe icing in between the pale toes of the Chestnut-haired woman on the right hand side of the stocks. Rachel was always nervous around Amy: The Goth Black feather, she had been the one who ruled that no wrong had been done by the Angelic Blonde after the intense torture session she found herself trapped in back in the summer. She recognised the two blondes piping in the icing but did not know their names, each wore a green feather with a black tip and was often used as ‘display models’ by the event organisers to showcase new games and devices. Rachel had tickled them many times and preferred the neater more nervous blonde than her scruffy friend, loving the soft Scandinavian giggles she elicited.
There was something different about the toe-ties too, they looked like plastic and went through small holes in the stocks rather than being attached to metal loops. Rachel could see that there were lots of these little holes in the stocks in the areas above each trapped foot and not all of them had been used, she was certain this had something to do with the joke she didn’t understand but could not focus as the last of the icing was applied and the first patrons began licking the chestnut-haired woman’s toes. First in line for this treat were two French identical twins; Rachel was not surprised these two had a thing for licking toes. Rachel squirmed not entirely comfortable with foot-licking, a part of her thought a tongue exploring her exquisite toes might feel nice. Another part of her dreaded the wet slimy sensations like slugs and snails slithering over her feet. Rachel was absolutely certain she didn’t want to lick anyone else’s feet: that much she knew for sure!
A little uncomfortable the tall brunette refocused her attention on the tanned brunette, her gorgeous smooth skin was being explored by those behind the stocks through her skimpy top and the many holes in her pre-distressed jeans. In front of the stocks her soles were being tormented with feathers and fingers, as well as Rowan’s hair who beckoned her friend to join her. Shy but keen to join the fun Rachel stopped lurking at the back of the tent and made her way to join Rowan. As she approached she spotted some two men holding each of their tanned victim’s shoulders from the front; they occasionally used one hand to tickle the brunette’s tummy and side but mostly lent their strength to the effort of preventing her from bending forwards; completely confused Rachel shot a glance to the chestnut haired woman to her right whose toes were being slowly licked clean of icing by the devious French twins. To her amazement the pale desperate woman was gnawing on the top of the stocks that held her ankles.
Suddenly all the pieces clicked into place in Rachel’s mind: ‘The Stocks were made out of Gingerbread!’
The chestnut haired woman was back from gnawing in the same fashion as the brunette and protested through a mouthful of crumbs;
“Nwoo lickin’ Ihhh hhh-aaeee-atte eeeeiiihhhht!”
In front of the stocks the two devious French twins used their well manicures nails to tease their victim’s arches and heels whilst slowly licking at the last remains of the icing. They kept the cruel dance of their fingernails going as they shot each other wicked smiles, their faces smudged with icing.
“Hmmmm…. I think the purpose of the game is to render them incapable of escape through tickling them rather than holding them back” Amy asserted, before adding: “Do we have anymore icing?”
Despite the chestnut haired woman’s protests more icing was piped in-between her toes by the Scandinavian duo, meanwhile the upper body torture was taken up a notch as those restraining the women were free to tickle their sides instead. Rachel had found her niche slowly running her fingers up and down the tops of the tanned brunette’s feet between the stocks and the brunette’s trapped feet. She loved the way her victim’s smooth skin felt and was glad she didn’t have to share this underappreciated tickle spot with the myriad of sadistic ticklers who eagerly jostled to get a place at her arches and toes. Rachel watched in fascination as the poor woman’s toes curled against her toe-ties which Rachel finally figured out to be strawberry bootlaces. The tanned brunette had managed a few bites at her stocks but the tickling was too much and she resorted to head-butting the concave divet she had made in pure desperation. The Gingerbread was firm but soft enough to absorb each blow without risking a concussion, it cracked and split with each blow but did not break or crumble away.
To the right the French twins had been forced to abandon the chestnut haired woman’s pale arches to the crowd. Each followed Rachel’s led and used one hand to tease the tops of the victim’s long feet whilst reaching around the stocks to find the backs of her sensitive knees. The poor woman was absolutely frantic and incapable of even trying to bite at the top of her stocks.
The tanned brunette had manged to take a few more bites from hers and crumbs festooned the tips of her long hair, getting stuck in the pale Gold tips that had been kissed by the sun. Rachel and Rowan tickled for a while longer, exploring the chestnut haired beauty once it was time for the tanned brunette to have icing piped between her toes. Eventually Rowan picked up on her friend’s subtle signals that she longed for gentler tickling, even though she had just learnt the tall brunette’s name she had been engaging with Rachel in tickle fights and had hoped to bring her out of her shell for a long time. Rowan suggested they get a cup of hot chocolate each and smiled later when Rachel tickled the waitress’s foot through her thermal leggings that made this bit of theatre practical given the cold weather. In the Castle event’s café there was always one waitress pretending to be on a break; usually sat underneath a large sign saying ‘You may tickle the waitress here’ whilst she dangled her shoes from her toes and pretended to read a magazine. These gentler more playful tickles were more to Rachel’s liking. Rowan could tell that her friend was getting a tad uncomfortable in the tent as the tickling started to get more intense.
As the pair ambled around the castle between tents and the jugglers and entertainers hired to maintain a lively atmosphere Rowan introduced Rachel to numerous friends she had tickled and wrestled with at previous events. There was a voluptuous red-haired lady who Rachel could not wait to blow a kiss to. Rachel beamed as the recipient of her kiss raised her arms in anticipation. Rachel knew that whilst this woman loved to be tickled, she was extremely ticklish and always struggled wildly. Today was no exception and as Rowan joined her the rambunctious redhead involuntarily lashed out, narrowly missing Rowan’s wide smiling face.
“Careful sweetie!” Rowan chided.
“It’s no use, you are going to have to restrain me!” The vivacious ginger wench declared gleefully.
“With pleasure Jenna!” Rowan replied, giving Rachel her new playmates name.
Rowan and Rachel guided Jenna to an empty tent, inside was a black St Andrew’s cross with red leather straps as well as a space heater and a small table bearing an assortment of tickle-toys. With the heater the tent was pleasantly warm so all three women stripped off their large coats and woolly jumpers. Rowan wore a Black Halter-neck top from some Heavy Metal band’s tour whilst Rachel wore a far simpler white strappy top. As Jenna undresses she took Rachel’s breath away; underneath her clothes she was wearing pyjamas. Jenna’s ample bosom filled the stripy cotton top and her thin matching leggings promised to leave her thighs vulnerable to soft slow teasing tickles. As their victim slipped her socked feet back into her boots both Rachel and Rowan stood amazed.
“I kinda wanted a duvet-day this morning! It’s a shame there isn’t a bed you can tie me to!” Jenna explained with a sly wink
“There might be in one of the other tents…” Rowan teased as she examined the jingling straps and buckles on the St Andrew’s cross.
Soon Jenna was standing with her arms and legs splayed out, every spot expect for her feet was exposed for torture. Rowan and Rachel began softly, giggling the mocking laugh of the ‘Ler as the circled their prey. Rachel began in the crooks of Rowans elbows working down to her underarms whilst Rowan knelt to use the same trick from the backs of the knees up. The anticipation caused Jenna to blush, her underarms and thighs where especially ticklish and her captors knew it from the many tickle fights and game. Jenna’s sensitivity and vulnerability were enhanced by the slow teasing dance of her captor’s from one sensitive spot to another, as Rachel’s fingers found her underarms Jenna exploded testing the strength of her restraints. Sensing Victory Rowan dug into Jenna’s thighs with brutal kneading and squeezing tickles that caused the voluptuous Ginger Wench to go crazy.
The St Andrew’s cross shook violently but the buckles did not give, suddenly Rachel noticed that Jingle bells and been added to the restraints and giggled at the fun. Normally she stuck to gentle tickles but she knew Jenna liked to be tickled vigorously, until she was close the maximum amount of torture she could stand but not quite past her limits. Grinning Rachel moved her attention to Jenna’s sides and ribs tickling under her bouncing sumptuous breasts. Rowan continued to tease Jenna’s thighs, occasionally moving into her victim’s inner thighs and hips with the brutal squeezes before softly stroking her hand up and down each trapped thigh. Rachel began to move her hands in small circles around the deadly spot between Jenna’s sides and just above her hips. She looked her captive straight in the eyes and asked;
“Do you know where I am going next?”
“Ooohh –ho-ho! Yes! Haa-haa!” Jenna replied.
As Rachel pounced to deliver a deadly barrage of tummy tickles Jenna thrashed in between agony and ecstasy as her most ticklish spot was exploited.
“The tummy!.... The tummy!... The tummy!.. THE TUMMY!!!” Jenna cried as she rocked back and forth in Rhapsody.
With her Tummy, thighs and knees being vigorously tickled Jenna thrashed in her bondage caught between heaven and hell and her two tormentors chuckled the slow regular laugh of those doing the tickling. Rachel always though it was odd in the tickling videos she watched before discovering the castle events; the way the ticklers laughed together as they tickled. She didn’t realise until she was halfway through her first tickle fight that she was laughing the same laugh even when she wasn’t being tickled. Occasionally she still caught herself doing it when delivering tickles but she had learnt not to question it, the slow release of laughter as she tickled was something instinctive and something she craved. The two women continued to tickle Jenna until she hung limp in her bondage and the jingle bells attached to the straps and buckles finally stopped ringing.
“God I needed that!” Jenna moaned with her last breath as Rowan began releasing her.
“Now earlier we discussed finding a tent with a bed…” Rowan teased as she undid Jenna’s last buckle.
“Oh! Fair enough!” Jenna moaned as Rowan lifted her bodily, one arm up her back the other behind her knees.
Rowan was not big but strong and carried Jenna out of the tent as Rachel excitedly dated between the many tents with vacant signs until she found one with a large four-poster bed.
“There is one in here!.... There is one in here!!!!” Rachel chirped when she found a tent with the required bondage equipment.
“Okay, but be gentle!” Jenna warned as Rowan carried her into the tent.
Without a reply Rowan tossed Jenna onto the thick mattress before pouncing on top of her and straddling her face down. Exhausted from her standing ordeal Jenna could not resist having her wrists secured to the headboard. Rachel began removing Jenna’s boots with glee, she knew Jenna’s feet were not her most ticklish spot but had a plan in mind. Playfully the Northern brunette delivered some teasing sock tickles, loving her victim’s red and green Christmassy socks and the warmth of the long feet within. Rowan had ceased to straddle Jenna and lay alongside her victim exploring her underarms and sides; facedown bed-tied tickles were one of her favourites, from this position she could reach anywhere on her victim’s body. Underarms, necks, sides, ribs, even the tremendous tummy if she burrowed one arm under her writhing prey and tickled upwards. Rowan was clever and wanted to use all of her limbs;
“Rachel Darling?” The Auburn Wench cooed, “Would you mind removing my boots I fancy using my toes and some occasional sock tickles if you wouldn’t mind…”
Gleefully Rachel obliged exposed Rowan’s wide feet in her colourful: green, red and brown socks. Rachel could resist delivering some playful sock tickles and loved the way her friend’s soles scrunched up in their warm socks depicting; snowmen, holly-sprigs and Christmas puddings. Rachel returned to Jenna’s long feet and began slowly removing her Christmassy socks to reveal her long pale feet. Rachel tutted, having guessed Jenna would not have cared for her sexy feet the way she did for her own.
“Such beautiful feet ruined by callouses on the heels and toes!” The Northern brunette sighed.
“Hey I am on my feet all day!” Jenna protested.
“So am I” Rachel retorted, digging through her bag for the micro-pedi she had brought.
“Then perhaps you will let us tie you up and tickle your feet sometime Rachel?…” Rowan teased as she cleverly used her toes to tease the backs of Jenna’s knees.
Rachel just blushed and clicked the micropedi on. As it began to whir Jenna struggled to look behind her to see what was happening.
“Hey what is that?...” She asked.
“… Give the gift of beautiful feet this Christmas!” Rachel began before descending into giggles, imitating an advert for such a device that always caused her to stop what she was doing and pay attention to the TV.
Soon Jenna’s feet were de-calloused and looking soft, smooth and sexy. They were not bad callouses, just the result of the Ginger Wench not being a ‘foot person’. Rachel looped string around both of Jenna’s big toes and began tying them to the frame of the bed. Jenna struggled, she hated the feeling of immobility this gave, it made her knees and hamstrings more ticklish as well as making her feet feel helpless. In truth Jenna’s feet were one of her least ticklish spots. But when tickled alongside her knees and thighs they drove her insane. Rowan repositioned herself to use her short but skilled fingers on Jenna’s legs. The result was immediately panic. Jenna began to struggle as her ticklers gleefully pushed her past her limits into tickle hell. Rachel was unaware of the full effect that her administrations had as Jenna descended into silent laughter. Rowan meanwhile knew exactly what she was doing; frantically Jenna struggled as her knees and thighs were explored through the soft, thin fabric of her pyjama bottoms. Cleverly Rowan had positioned her toes in each of Jenna’s armpits and as the captive wench struggled she tickled herself, Rowan barely had to wiggle her toes. Rachel used a soft feather to explore each of Jenna’s toes as she simultaneously used her nails on the creamy shallow arches, occasionally she would trace the sharp side of the feather up and down those arches and watch as Jenna’s soles desperately tried to escape. Rachel lost track of time and went into a Zen state as she tested out different technique on the canvas of soft pale skin before her.
Eventually Rowan decided Jenna had suffered enough, knowing what pure hell her knees and thighs were if tickled like this. The full extent of Jenna’s suffering was not clear to Rachel until their victim curled up into a ball after she was released. Rachel blushed and mumbled some apologies as Jenna continued to gulp down lung-fulls of air between residual giggles. After she finally caught her breath and slipped on her Christmassy socks she looked Rowan in the eyes;
“I owe you one!” Jenna threatened ominously.
Rowan did not seem too worried, and Jenna was not too angry. But still Rachel was glad she had not received the threat, she had not realised she had broken her own Golden Rule: Not to dish out tickle torture she herself could not take. Rachel was too caught up in the Euphoria of the Castle Event to feel too guilty. She had some more hot Chocolate and a few mince pies with Rowan and relaxed, watching other patrons tickle the waitress and pondering what were in the other tents. Eventually Rowan interrupted her musings;
“C’mon, we are going to miss the choosing thing…” The Auburn Valkyrie declared.
“Ch….ch-choosing?” Rachel stuttered.
“Yeah didn’t you read through the blurb when you signed up for the mistletoe necklace?” Rowan replied heading to the rear of the courtyard
Rachel’s heart sank, she usually read through the terms and conditions meticulously, knowing what fates befall patrons who did not know the fine details of what they were signing up for. But when she had read the bit about the kiss blowing game she had got so excited she danced then skipped to the end and signed up. Nervously the tall northern brunette made her way to an open area at the rear of the courtyard, it was near the entrance to the Red Zone which only made her more nervous. There was a stage which prominently featured a set of stocks and some other bondage equipment. But it was the stocks that frightened Rachel, they looked sturdy and heavy, with toe-ties and a back designed to lift the victim’s arms above their head. As the courtyard filled with the other patrons with mistletoe necklaces she remained transfixed on the heavy stocks, shivering and not just because of the cold. Arm in arm with Rowan she clung to her friend, glad of the comfort and support.
“Now then the moment you have all been waiting for!...” Amy’s voice declared.
Rachel shivered, it was the Gothic Black Feather who frightened her; Amy stood with one spiky boot up on the stocks and scanned the crowd looking for her victim.
“…When I press this one of your necklaces will activate and those little red berries will start flashing, when this happens I want all of you to help the lucky winner into our stocks for some Christmas tickle fun” As Amy finished speaking her eyes found Rachel.
Rachel squirmed under Amy’s gaze; somehow she just knew it would be her that got chosen for the stocks. Amy tried to conceal her evil grin but it peeked through. It was worth the time she spent devising an algorithm that revealed which patrons read through all the Terms and Conditions and which ones simply scrolled down to the end. She; like Rachel had danced with joy when she found out the tall northern beauty had skipped past the bit about the flashing berries. As Amy slowly pressed the button she anticipated her little Christmas present to herself, Amy had longed to get a chance to tickle Rachel’s feet ever since the event in the Summer when she spied those long pale feet in their black strappy Sandals. Rachel panicked as all eyes turned to her, she looked down at the red flashing berries on her fake-mistletoe necklace.
“Oh Sweetie!” Rowan cooed sympathetically, sensing her friend’s fear through their linked arms.
It was strange, Rachel thought about trying to run but the sense of panic trapped her like a rabbit in headlights. All she was aware of was her own breathing and the stocks getting closer, from behind her she heard Rowan shout;
“Go easy on her!”
It was only when Rachel was locked in the stocks that her stunned panic gave way to desperate struggles. Her boots were pulled off and the weight of the heavy wood on top of her ankles made her plight come sharply into focus. Amy’s: The volunteers from the crowd held Rachel’s arms high above her head whilst Amy’s ‘Little helpers’ secured them to the leather straps. All of the stage crew were dressed as elves whilst Amy wore her usual gothic-attire. With a look of pure delight Amy examined her prize as she removed her victim’s colourful socks. Rachel’s feet were as soft and perfect as they had been on that summer’s day, except now they had red nail polish instead of black.
“No! Please!” Rachel whined as a leather strap was secured over her knees making her almost totally immobile.
“Sorry Luv, but you were selected” Amy replied as she started preparing the toe-ties. She mentally checked she had said ‘selected’ and not ‘randomly selected’ as she slipped the first loop over Rachel’s big toes.
Soon all ten of Rachel exquisite toes were tied back and splayed out, several heaters kept her bare feet warm so it was only fear she shivered from as Amy switched the camera’s on. Close ups of Rachel’s feet and several wide shots of her predicament came to life on several screens, humiliated Rachel squirmed as her plight was projected for the crowd’s entertainment. In the crowd Rowan shuffled her feet and tried to think of a way to rescue her friend, this was going to be too much for poor Rachel and she dreaded losing her tickle-pal. It was clear that Rachel was both terrified and embarrassed as the members of the crowd who had dragged her to the stage reluctantly returned. Amy however wanted to have some fun with her new toy;
“So I have seen you here many times and you never let yourself be stocked or tied down and rarely expose these pretty feet, I wonder is this perhaps because you are foot-ticklish?....” She began, spider-walking her long talon-like nails across the top of the stocks.
“No please! Don’t tickle my feet!... They are so sensitive!” Rachel blubbered
“I know, you take good care of your feet! Almost as if you want them to be sensitive…” Amy teased, running one fingertip up and down each arch being careful not to use her long nails.
“No-hoho-hoo-hoo hahah haahaa!!! Please let me go-ho-ho!” Rachel begged through desperate laughter, not able to respond to Amy’s question.
“Oh yes these feet are dreadfully ticklish! I wonder how they respond to feathers…” Amy mused selecting a stiff goose feather and a softer fluffier feather.
Rachel was indeed feather sensitive and pleaded as feathers were run up and down her arches and in-between her helpless toes. Amy moved on to use feathers and fingers on her upper body for a short while before returning to her feet. With an evil smile she wiggled all ten fingers above the stocks her black and silver nails promising a torment Rachel could not endure.
“No Please! Not my feet again!” Rachel begged as she frantically squirmed. So far Amy had stuck to gentle playful tickles but still her humiliating plight had made the soft sensations a terrible torture for poor Rachel.
“Yes, and my fingernails are especially sharp and tickly today!” Amy teased slowly descending her wiggling fingers in a slow ominous dance that had Rachel in a state of breathless anxiety before they had even made contact. Amy loved dominating this sexy tall brunette, she was barely a quarter of the way through her cruel plan and the poor thing was already in pieces. As her nails made contact with the soft soles she began a well-rehearsed pattern she found to have the most torturous effect on ticklish soles. Rachel went from nervous apprehension to a full on explosion of ticklish thrashing; she was desperate to escape the torment, but her torturer was merciless and the stocks sturdy and secure.
Amy cackled as Rachel howled, the poor brunette had never experienced such torture. Desperately she twisted one way and the other instinctively trying to find a way to escape the pure hell of Amy’s nails despite the hopelessness of her bondage. Every now and then Amy would slow and softly tease each arch with gentle slow strokes of her fingertips. This allowed Rachel to inhale deeply between soft giggles as she anticipated the return of the dreaded sharp fingernails. After the second or third reprieve the horrible fingernails did not return to their cruel dance, instead Rachel shut her eyes tightly wishing for an end to this nightmare. As she opened her eyes they focused on a small silver object Amy was holding for her to see; the spectre of a spiky wheel on a thin metallic handle came into focus and Rachel panicked;
“No! Not that!” Rachel begged, she had only seen tools like this used in tickling video but dreaded the effect it would have on her soft feet.
“Oh yes it is time for tools!” Amy declared holding the spiky wheel up for the crowd to see.
Amy started off with one of the spiky wheels at each of Rachel’s heels. Slowly she ran the terrible devices up applying just the right amount of pressure. The effect was less torturous than her nails but nerve racking for the poor brunette who struggled and squirmed. Rachel took good care of her heels and the progressions of the horrible spikes tickled a lot but she knew her arches were by far more ticklish and she knew they were next. Amy increased speed and decreased pressure as she reached her victim’s creamy arches, and randomly changed direction to backtrack at a different angles. The effect was devastating and Rachel shook her head and begged silent pleas for mercy. The little spikes were like kitten’s claws and tickled just as much on the balls of her feet and the dreadful spot under her toes. Eventually Amy gave her a break and held up the tools for the crowd to see.
“Now these have a little bit of red tape on the handle because they are sharp, we have some blunter for those less experienced in the use of this deadly tickle tool. Be assured if you push too hard or allow our lovely victim to come to harm you will be punished for your transgressions….”
It took Rachel a moment to understand the implication of what Amy had just said: ‘The crowd were going to get a chance to tickle her’ She realised. Nervously she scanned the crowd; eager after eager face looked at her hungrily. From amongst the sea of faces one angelic face caught her eye: It was the blonde who had tickled her past her limits. Rachel didn’t think her situation could get any worse but as Amy demonstrated the faster strokes possible with the duller wheels she couldn’t get the evil glimmer in those angelic blonde eyes out of her head. Next Amy demonstrated the hairbrush; something Rachel had dreaded. If the wheels were past her limit the hundreds of dancing bristles and bobbles were a thousand times worse. They drove Rachel from exhaustion into a full blown screaming tantrum as she desperately tried to escape her bonds.
“Wow! She certainly has some lungs on her!... Normally this sweet little things is as quiet and shy as a mouse…. Well I had better let you lucky people take a turn at making her squeal and shriek” Amy declared.
Rachel drew heavy breathes as Amy set the draw. In the crowd Red lights flashed and twinkled as the many patrons mistletoe necklaces lit up in turn. Rachel’s vision blurred and it was almost like a tiny little light show. Excitedly each patron looked down excitedly as their necklace flashed.
“Any moment now!....” Amy purred.
The lights stopped, a red flashing light was joined by an excited cry. It was one of the French identical twins. Rachel moaned: ‘No guessing what her feet were going to be subjected to next!’ She thought to herself. Both of the lithe willowy blondes made their way onto the stage with no objection from Amy or the other organisers, all of whom wore festive elf costumes. With a grin each knelt by Rachel’s feet and licked their lips. Rachel curled her toes against the little loops and grumbled in disgust. She giggled as each of the twins blew on her toes, enjoying their victim’s anticipation and revulsion. To Rachel’s surprise the sensations were not as unpleasant as she expected, the tongues tickled slightly but didn’t feel like slugs or snails. They were warm and smooth whilst textured enough to be rough at the same time.
The toe-licking was almost relaxing after Rachel’s ordeal under Amy’s cruel administrations. The twins also used their short but effective nails to scratch at Rachel’s arches and heels making her writhe and struggle. Occasionally one would reach under the stocks and tease the backs of her knees with their fingertips keeping her in a state of constant ticklish anxiety. The worst ticklish sensations were when they nibbled her toes, the first time they did it Rachel let out a squeak that made the crowd chortle with laughter. Rachel was astounded at how tickly having her toes nibbled was. She could feel every facet of her tormentor’s teeth as they skilfully nibbled with just the right amount of pressure. Worst of all she could never predict when they were going to do it.
After a while Amy decided Rachel wasn’t suffering enough and began removing Rachel’s jumper. Soon it was over her head and being manoeuvred through the straps which Amy unbuckled one at a time. Soon Rachel was shivering in the cool air feeling helpless without the protection the thick jumper gave. Her bare underarms were on display in her white strappy top as Amy picked up a couple of feathers and adjusted her headset.
“Okay you lucky people, time to select some of you to tease the beauties lovely underarms and neck, this time we have programed the system to select two volunteers so keep your fingers crossed that the lights stop for you”.
Once again the many red berries on patron’s necklaces flashed, the merry light display flittering throughout the crowd. Rachel giggled as Amy ran the feather up and down each underarm for the duration of the light show. Eventually two patrons were picked: One a cute Punk-rock girl who must have just turned 18 the other an older woman with silver hair. Each gladly accepted a set of feathers and set to work. The added sensations drove Rachel further into insanity as the twins at her soles continued to lick and nibble. To make matters worse the older woman gave the teenager tickler tips on how to torment Rachel hypersensitive skin, saying things like;
“Remember to tickle her neck every now and then to keep her on edge”
And;
“Vary between small circles and long vertical strokes of the feather”
Rachel hated the feeling of helplessness this gave her. But not as much as when Amy blindfolded her so she couldn’t predict the sensations. Now every time the soft feathers swished across her neck or face it came as a total surprise. At least Rachel wasn’t constantly reminded of the spectacle she had been tricked into making of herself as the crowd was hidden from her. The crowd had grown bored of the gentle tickle torture and Amy sensed it was time to take it up a notch, she didn’t think the Northern brunette could take much more but the twin licking her soles caught her eye. They were always popular with the crowd and a superb way to get more people involved.
“Now ladies and gentlemen I have just been informed that there has been an infraction upon the rules of this game as only one of the lovely twins here received permission to join us on stage; may I asked whose mistletoe flashed?”
Both twins claimed the honour without seeming to contradict one another or claiming the other was a liar: they smiled sweetly and looked as though butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.
“Naturally of course the interloper will be tormented for the crowd’s amusement” Amy added.
“It was ‘er she followed me on stage” The both declared in broken unison, their natural alliance broken.
“I see well luckily I have a solution that should prove entertaining….” Amy declared, grinning.
A long set of portable stocks with four holes was brought forth, it was closer to the ground than Rachel’s set and the twins were encouraged to remove their shoes and kneel in it, their feet close to the edge of the stage. Rachel’s blindfold was removed as she was given a brief respite from foot-torture. The gentle feather sensations were almost bearable and if it wasn’t for the crowd and her sense of helplessness she might have almost enjoyed them. In lieu of honey some caramel syrup was brought forth from the café and Amy applied it lovingly to Rachel’s feet. Each of the twins wrist were handcuffed under the stocks close to the backs of Rachel’s knees, a leather collar was also placed around their necks keeping their faces close to Rachel’s feet. Both began to lick until Amy seized their pony tails and held their heads back.
“Not yet girls I haven’t explained the rules!” You have ten minutes to lick these pretty feet clean. After that I will taste test them and if there is even a hint of caramel the pair of you will become our next exhibit” Amy loved the sense of power as she spoke, both the twins even gulped in unison: dreading the rack or other bondage devices prepared on the stage.
Amy release her grip on their fine blonde hair and eagerly their tongues set to work. Rachel shrieked, the licking was faster and not as loving but tickled like crazy. Amy sat on the stage and began softly tickling the twins trapped feet as she addressed the crowd;
“Now four more ticklish feet have become available so four more of you lovely people will be selected. This time a faster flicker of the light Maestro!”
The lights danced around the crowd and soon four excited ticklers approached; three men and one woman. Eagerly they stood close to the stage and tickled the pretty feet on display. For the twins it was too much and neither could effectively lick. Each varied between throwing their heads back in laughter and leaning forwards and head-butting Rachel’s soles getting syrup in their hair. Rachel was glad of the distraction and giggled softly as the young Punk-rock chick received an expert tutorial in the finer points of feather tickling from a highly experienced expert. Amy decided the soft feather tickles were insufficient torture for Rachel and accelerated the next phase of her plan;
“Congratulations!” She said to the silver-haired woman with a smile: “You have won!”
“Have I?” The older woman asked
“Won what?” Her teenage accomplice asked curtly.
“Oh didn’t you know? The best tickler gets a turn tickling their partner whilst we get the next pair up on stage. Now how would you like her, stocked, racked or hung up by her ankles” Amy explained as the look of panic spread across the Punk-rock chick’s face.
“That St Andrew’s Cross with the kneeling stool in front looks interesting!” The older woman replied with a smile.
“What! Wait! You can’t do that!” The teenager objected.
“All in the rules, your lights flashed red and now you are getting tickled” Amy replied as the elves closed in on the teenager who was glancing apprehensively around.
“Okay ten minutes if you go willingly, longer if you struggle!” Amy declared.
It was the teenager’s first castle event having turned eighteen a few weeks before. Foolishly she decided to make a break for it and was quickly seized by the elves who skilfully had her safely and securely grasped to the crowd’s delight. Within moments she was being stripped as she was frogmarched to the St Andrew’s cross.
“Do you have clean underwear on sweetie?” The older woman asked as she undid the poor girl’s belt.
Rachel squirmed as her foot-licking sporadically continued and was thankful that she was currently largely being ignored and that she had been spared the humiliation of being stripped to her underwear that the Punk-Rock chick was presently suffering. Futilely the teenager kicked as her tattered jeans were removed. It was as though the St Andrew’s cross was made for the poor girl, her toes fit perfectly into the toe-ties on the side of the kneeling stool.
“Take as long as you want with this one, and would you like any friends to share her with?” Amy asked the silver haired woman as she gagged the screaming teenager.
“Perhaps a couple to tickle her sides, I am in the mood for feet and think she should experience what she learnt from me first hand” The silver-haired woman replied settling down at her victim’s feet.
The poor girl thrashed as her former instructor slowly teased her arches with her long nails but it was no use.
Centre-stage Rachel watched quietly as two more ticklers were brought up onto the stage. She hoped they would be sent to tickle the teenager whilst she continued to be ignored be all but the twins licking her feet. She sighed with relief as her wish was granted and each took up a position on either side of the St Andrews cross. They both picked up long feathers and received the same tutorial their victim had received moments earlier.
“Were you getting lonely sweetie?” Amy asked as she approached Rachel.
Rachel moaned as her hopes of a continued reprieved faded. Her soles were being sporadically licked by the twins but apart from that she had been allowed to catch her breath.
“Now ladies and gentlemen you have seen how feather can torment as woman as delicately sensitive as this paragon of ticklishness. Now I shall demonstrate some more infuriating techniques and two of you lucky people will get to drive this poor woman to the limits of her endurance.” Amy address the eager crowd.
Behind her the muffled screams and pitiful pleas of the teenager kept the sadists entranced as one camera focused on her soft young soles and another on a wide shot of the feathers dancing up and down her underarms and across her neck, tummy, back and thighs. The silver-haired woman’s two protégées had excelled at the lessons previous taught using Rachel as a prop and now were expanding their skill set to include areas that on Rachel had mercifully remained clothed. However Rachel’s clothes would be of no protection against the torment Amy was about to unleash.
“Now I shall begin with these lovely underarms to demonstrate the difference between finger and feather tickles”. Amy began slowly spidering her fingertip in the hollows of Rachel’s smooth deep underarms.
Before Amy had finished Rachel was already hysterical. She struggled to pull her arms down to protect herself but her bondage was perfect.
“Now if you have a ticklish little thing to yourself like this remember to vary your tickle target, see how much more she responds if I move down to her sides and ribs like this” Amy continued.
Rachel’s hysteria turned to madness as Amy began to pluck at her ribs and poke at her sides. She hated being demonstrated this way, she felt totally helpless and humiliated as the crowd watched her ordeal.
“Of course in addition to your fingertips those of you with nails should be sure to use them!” Amy decreed softly fluttering her sharp nails so that they danced rather than scratched.
“NOOOOO!!! STOP THIS! HAHAAHAAA I HA-HAA-HAAA-ATE THIS!” Rachel screamed in rage, her face red and her body vibrating frantically in its perfect bondage.
“It seems that technique is quite effective folks, so I shall leave you to try it out for yourselves in a moment, before we pick three lucky winners let me show you some tricks to tickle her knees, hips, tummy and thighs!” Amy announced.
Amy continued to exhibit Rachel to the crowd’s delight and her victim’s abhorrence. The Jeans and thermal leggings proved to be of no protection to her ticklish legs and her tummy and hips were even worse. Finally the time came to choose three members of the crowd and Rachel dreaded their combined efforts on her ticklish body. Even Amy’s demonstration had been gruelling enough, even the thought of three ticklers working her over after being shown all the best techniques and tricks to drive her insane made Rachel’s skin crawl. The lights in the crowd flickered and soon enough three lucky sadists made their way up the stage. Rachel was too exhausted to make out their gender or even their distinguishing features. Her entire perception of reality consisted of the tickly sensation that flittered between her underarms, legs, tummy and every part of her sensitive body. She did not even notice when the twins were released and Amy gave her soles the ‘Taste Test’.
“Hmm…. Both still have a distinct hint of Caramel so I think it will be back-to-back in stocks for you two!” Amy declared.
The twins were escorted to another part of the stage. The elves brought forth two sets of small stocks and a bench with straps for their thighs. The twins were sat on the bench back-to-back with their thighs strapped down tight and their collars joined together with thin chains. The elves seized the twins’ arms and suspended them high above their heads using cables attached to the stage. Unlike the teenager who still struggled on the St Andrew’s cross the twins knew resistance would do them no good and apprehensively accepted their fate, squirming as their socks were removed. Twelve new members of the crowd were selected and took up positions around the twins. Four in front of each set of stocks shared a long sexy foot each. Four stood to either side of the twins working over their lithe slim upper bodies. The remaining two took command over the backs of the twin’s knees which were unprotected by the bench. The twins were used to be tickled but with an average of six ticklers each the descended into instant sensory overload.
Central stage, Rachel was delirious from her ordeal in the stocks her tormentors were reluctantly shepherded away, being offered a brief tickle of either the teenager or one of the twins as an incentive to leave poor Rachel alone. The spotlight was switched off and Rachel was descended into darkness. The camera’s that had previously displayed her torment for all to see switched to show the teenager and the twin’s torment. No one was watching at Amy whispered in Rachel’s ear;
“Well done! You have endured most of your initiation ritual! Just a quick break before the final torture!....”
Rachel was too exhausted to answer and slumped in her bondage, her muscles tired from struggling and thrashing her nerves still tingling with phantom tickles.
“…Want to know a secret? Even if the twins had hours to lick your soles would still exude caramel. That syrup gets in your skin. Even after I scrub your soles clean they will still smell and taste sweet and syrupy”
It took Rachel a moment to process what Amy had just said. With a rueful moan she voiced her protest still unable to form words. She had witnessed and heard tales of the sadistic goth-girl’s predilection for this torturous process to guess what was coming next. Still as Amy slowly explained her schemes Rachel couldn’t help but cringe and cower as the cruel sadist whispered in her ears;
“Yes and after they are nice and pink and clean, I am going to heat them to the peak of their sensitivity. A little oil will help broil them till they cannot stand the slightest touch”.
Eventually Amy left Rachel to recuperate in peace, taking a turn tormenting the helpless teenager who too had slumped in her kneeling bondage. Unlike Rachel the teenage girl received mercy from the Black Feather. Amy didn’t want to scare her away so sent her with an elf to the Sanctuary. Excitedly a short blonde woman made her way onto the stage the red lights in her necklace flashing.
“Who do I get to tickle?... Who do I get to tickle?!” She chirped as she looked around.
“Oh No! You are our replacement for the St Andrew’s cross here!” Amy replied.
It took the elves considerable effort to get the woman stripped and strapped in but eventually they managed it. Despite being small the blonde shrieked and screamed loudly and was promptly gagged. Her short but cute toes were tied back and the ticklers set to work. After a few minutes Amy decided to rotate the ticklers and selected new sadists from the audience for the both the twins and the short blonde. Finally she decided Rachel had been left to stew long enough and switched the spotlights and camera’s back on. With a smile she address the crowd;
“Now then Ladies and Gentlemen; you have witnessed numerous tickling techniques. But now I shall demonstrate a process by which feet may be made more receptive to such administrations. Not that our captive her needs to become any more sensitive of course!”
The crowd laughed having already witnessed Rachel’s extreme sensitivity. Most of them knew what was coming next but still waited excitedly for the show to start. Two elves brought forth a large bowl of hot soapy water and a selection of scrubbing brushes;
“No! Not that please!...” Rachel begged pitifully, she knew she was unlikely to receive any mercy but could not help but plead for clemency.
“I’m sorry but we just can’t leave these lovely feet all covered in syrup and saliva, can we?” Amy asked rhetorically, selecting too stiff brushes that fitted to her hands.
Rachel screamed as the bristles made contact. She went form an exhausted malaise to frantic struggles within seconds. Even the hot soapy water that dripped down her soles would have been too much for the hypersensitive brunette to bear, the evil brushes scrubbed and swished bringing the pale feet to a bright pink hue. Amy swapped between brushes, using the full array before finally selecting two electric toothbrushes. Rachel did not think her ordeal could get any worse but she was wrong, as sensitive as her arches were they were nothing compared to the baby-soft skin between her toes and the balls of her feet.
Amy was merciless; she slowly ran the toothbrushes over the trapped, torturously ticklish skin as well as exploring every toe. She manoeuvred the brushes up and down the toe-stems, to the tips of Rachel’s long toes, even repositioning the toe-ties so that no spot went un-tickled. Rachel was in hell and screamed until one of the elves gagged her and then proceeded to give her arches and heels an extra scrub with a long handled brush. Finally satisfied that she had got rid of all the syrup and saliva Amy switched off the toothbrushes and admired her work. Rachel’s pale feet were a delightful shade of pink. ‘Now to roast them to a sweet shade of scarlet!’ she thought to herself as she removed Rachel’s ball-gag to let it dangle around Rachel’s neck.
“Please don’t do this!” Rachel whined.
“Oh there will be no pain!” Amy cooed.
“No more tickling!... I only like soft tickles!” Rachel objected.
“But you are so close to earning this!” Amy replied, pulling out a blue feather necklace and using the black tip to tease Rachel’s face and neck.
“What?” Rachel asked.
“This will grant you free entry to the castle and immunity from the long stocks and random tickles, of course you will have to help out here and there…” Amy explained.
Rachel was too exhausted to argue, she liked the idea of being able to visit every castle event but in that moment she would have promised never to come again to get out of the stocks. Amy repositioned the heaters closer to Rachel’s dripping wet feet and dug out the hairdryers from her box of tricks. She took Rachel’s silence for submission but in truth the tall brunette was too exhausted to argue further. The hot air felt kind of nice at first, Rachel started to get a little uncomfortable as her soles started to heat up. Amy had promised her there would be no pain but she could feel her feet getting hotter. Like a good hot shower the temperature rose to the point where it was just about to get too hot and the plateaued. As the last of the water evaporated Amy stopped and oiled Rachel’s perfect feet;
“Did you know this oil helps the process, it soaks into your skin making it soft and ensuring every nerve is on red alert” Amy asked.
“Please no more!” Rachel begged in quiet desperate voice.
“Oh I’m sorry but you are just too cute, and so many of us have wanted this for such a very long time!” Amy replied, testing Rachel left arch with a finger to see if it was done.
Rachel shrieked, she did not believe her feet could get any more sensitive but Amy’s slow trace proved otherwise.
“Hmm just a little more!” The Goth-girl cooed.
Rachel whimper as her feet were heated, she dreaded the end of this brief respite and was almost in tears as the hairdryers were switched off.
“Now if we could just have a quick recap of these ticklish feet earlier today!” Amy declared for the audience and the elf running the screens.
A video of Amy tickling Rachel’s feet during her demonstration appeared on screen. Rachel’s fear gave way to anger: ‘They had recorded her ordeal!’ Angry but still fretful the Northern Brunette seethed, there was a permanent record of her humiliation and torment for posterity and perversion.
“And now let us see how much more ticklish these pretty feet have become!” Amy announced softly running the tips of her fingers from the balls of Rachel’s feet, across her arches to her heels and up again.
“NOOO!!! HO-HO! HO-HOO! DO-HO-HOON’T!” Rachel wailed, her reaction considerably more frantic than during the video clip of a more intense torture.
Amy wasted no time in torturing the poor woman, she knew she only had a few minutes before it was time to select a volunteer so used her nails and every cruel trick in her repertoire. Oh how she wished she had this hypersensitive angel tied to her bed for the night. Finally the time came and she slipped the ball-gag back in place.
“Now then ladies and gentlemen it looks like we have our first winner! Come up on stage you get these beautiful feet for fifteen minutes…” Amy declared
“If I take the next turn on the St Andrew’s cross can I have them for half an hour?” A Familiar voice asked.
“Sounds like a bargain to me!” Amy chuckled
Rachel knew the sweet dulcet tones but couldn’t place them; desperately she twisted round, her sub-conscious mind warning her of danger. She couldn’t see the woman no matter how she struggled. Not that it mattered as her torturer to be slipped around to take her by surprise, suddenly Rachel was face-to-face with angelic blue eyes and soft blonde hair.
“Hello again my pretty!” The angelic blonde teased, adding: “I was hoping to get another turn tickling these lovely ribs and underarms but having seen how ticklish your feet are I am glad I was not selected until now!
Rachel wailed into her ball-gag: ‘Of all the cruel sadists in the audience the lights had to pick this one!’
“I can’t believe I missed these soft feet last time I had you tied down!” The angelic blonde moved, slipping to the other side of the stocks and settling down.
She began gently, teasing Rachel’s arches with the pads of her fingertips. She was amazed at the desperate reaction even the slightest touch elicited. Then she used her nails, taking Rachel from desperate thrashing to a berserk rage that shook both the stocks and the stage they were bolted to. The blonde used her nails for ten long minutes before deciding to use a hairbrush. The results were devastating, Amy had only used a hairbrush on Rachel’s feet for a few seconds but it was clear that they were far beyond what she could stand, the angelic blonde found that extra oil made the hairbrushes thousands of times worse. The long arduous hairbrush hell comprised the middle part of Rachel’s ordeal at the blonde’s cruel hands. Finally she remembered the toothbrushes and set to work on Rachel’s toes. Never satisfied she used one toothbrush in each hand and held a paintbrush in her mouth to swish cruel swirls all over Rachel’s arches. To Rachel the ordeal last an eternity but to the blonde it was over far too soon.
“Okay time’s up!” Amy announced as the next patron made their way onto the stage.
“Oh no fair! I was just getting started!” The angelic blonde protested.
“Too bad! The elves are waiting for you at the St Andrew’s cross” Amy replied, glad of the bargain she had made.
As the angelic blonde was guided away to a torture that would last the rest of the day Rachel sagged in her bonds as the next torturer looked down at her. She was too exhausted to recognise her friend Rowan standing over her looking down distraught at what had happened to her friend;
“Put me in the stocks in her place!” The Auburn Valkyrie declared.
“That’s not the deal…” Amy stuttered.
“No, but she has clearly had enough and I can handle this kind of torture!... Scrub, oil and heat my feet and I promise you I won’t break!” Rowan replied, knowing the Goth Black Feather would not refuse such a challenge.
Rowan’s toes curled in their boots, she knew the next few hours would be pure tickle-hell but it was worth it to save her friend. As Rachel was guided away to the sanctuary one of the elves whispered in her ear;
“Congratulations on becoming one of us…. Want to know a secret?” It was a blonde elf, who spoke. Slipping the blue and black feather necklace over Rachel’s head.
Rachel gurgled in reply, incapable of forming even syllables let alone words.
“That blonde isn’t getting free any time soon, after the St Andrew’s cross we are going to put her on the rack and then she will take your place in the stocks!... You can even tickle her yourself if you like!”
Rachel still didn’t reply, it would take over two hours for Rachel her to recover from her ordeal and even then she had to be persuaded to return to the stage to receive a special treat. There on the Rack was the angelic blonde, begging muffled pleas into a ball-gag as countless sadistic pored over her ticklish body. Her perfect feet were bright scarlet like: having been scrubbed and heated using the same cruel technique that had been used on Rachel’s soles earlier. Meanwhile in the stocks Rowan suffered stoically, she did not regret her actions but wished she had not goaded the Black Feather to scrub, oil and heat her soles. So far around half of the numerous torturers had gone easy on her, some even congratulating her on her act of self-sacrifice. Then as her feat of endurance just started to test her resolution a familiar face looked down on her;
“I told you I would make you pay!” Jenna declared with a sadistic glimmer in her eyes.
Merry Christmas
It was this fear of being on the receiving end of merciless non-stop tickle torture that prevented Rachel from buying a Green Feather and visiting each event at the Castle. She had seen how the unfortunate women suffered in the long stocks at the start of most events, and in other cruel contraptions when the event’s imaginative organisers dreamt up new ways of making the more expensive necklaces worth the money. Rachel longed for more tickle-fun in her life and enviously pored over the pictures of events she had missed, but she knew her feet couldn’t take a session in the long stocks. Rachel worked overtime and extra shifts in a busy supermarket to buy a Blue-feather necklace for as many events as she could, but with the added cost of transport down south she limited herself to only six or seven visits to the castle each year. This year was a special occasion; the organisers had introduced a new type of ticket. Instead of a feather Rachel wore a sprig of fake mistletoe around her neck, it cost substantially less than a Blue Feather but essentially gave the wearer the same privileges. To Rachel’s delight the seasonal promotion came with an added perk; should anyone catch their eye and blow them a kiss they had to put their arms up and allow themselves to be tickled for a short while. She had stopped reading the terms and conditions at that point and danced around her bedroom with joy.
Rachel loved playful upper body tickles and anticipated a fun afternoon. The castle events were always fun, but all too often the tall shy brunette stood back and watched when she secretly wanted to be on the receiving end of the tickle-fun. Rachel loved to tickle other women and sometimes she let her victims get revenge, although not during her past few visits due to a miscalculation back in the summer. She had tickled an angelic soft-skinned blonde woman in her early thirties and kept her within what she could stand, always easing up when her struggles became too intense. Rachel preferred to keep her victims laughing in enjoyment not gasping for breath and desperate for the torture to stop. From the way graceful blonde smiled and the general fun-vibe Rachel had thought her playmate had the same preferences for light playful tickling: But Rachel was wrong.
Rachel shuddered as she remembered the curvy blonde straddling her and looking her in the eyes with a sadistic glimmer, from before the ordeal began Rachel knew she was in trouble. The angel had turned into a demon, having disguised her sadistic intent during her session under the feather. The blonde quickly found the worst spots from Rachel’s underarms to her sides, focusing particularly on her victim’s ribs and the sweet spot just above her hips. For Rachel it was pure agony, exacerbated by the way the blonde had stretched her out tight before straddling her so that she could barely move at all. Every struggle and movement was kept in check by the blonde’s body weight, which was perfectly positioned. Within a few seconds Rachel couldn’t beg and howled as her tormentor showed her no mercy, the blonde knew she was pushing her prey far beyond her limits but didn’t care, she had waited for this temptress to fall into her trap and cleverly pretended to enjoy the same light playful tickles whilst secretly craving to have the tall brunette as her own. Luckily for Rachel her captor favoured upper body torture, at the time it came as no consolation but Rachel cringed afterwards dreading what would happen if a similar sadist got hold of her feet.
Rachel’s feet were extremely sensitive from her heels to the tips of her toes, she couldn’t stand to walk across grass in bare feet or sandals. Despite dreading the prospect of her feet being tickle tortured, Rachel adored her feet and the pleasure they gave her from soft tactile stimulation. Rachel kept a collection of feathers to tease her own soles with when at home. In the summer she frequently walked barefoot at the beach; loving the way the sand felt between her toes. She used to dip her feet in and out of a bag of cheap grain, loving the way the tiny kernels felt. Eventually it had spoilt and she had replaced it with a large bucket of soft fine sand online. Rachel’s research had revealed it promised to soften skin, a pledge it had kept making Rachel’s feet even more sensitive.
Rachel liked to keep her feet looking good and used lotions and specialist tools to keep them soft and free from callouses. She always increased her efforts to keep her feet looking good despite rarely going barefoot at the castle events. At one event in the summer she wore sandals as it was simply too hot for shoes, both men and women drooled over her long pale feet with black painted toenails, high arches and perfect heels. From some women Rachel liked the attention but for many of her admirers she shivered dreading what cruel tortures they longed to inflict upon her. Rachel was shy and hated awkward situations, it had been awkward every time she ran into the blonde, no words were exchanged the disguised angel simply winked and smiled evilly at her former prey.
Rachel’s ruminations were cut short as a stout Auburn-haired woman blew her a kiss, it was one of Rachel’s favourite tickle friends. She didn’t know her name but recognised her instantly, she always reminded Rachel of a Viking shield-maiden with her long braided dark red hair. Despite her thick braids of hair giving her this fierce resemblance Rachel’s friend was convivial and pleasant; taking care to learn the spots where Rachel liked to be tickled, loving the way the tall Northern brunette squirmed and smiled. With a shy smile Rachel raised her arms and giggled in anticipation as her tickler-to-be wiggled her fingers and approached. The tickles started softly on Rachel’s tummy and moved quickly up her sides. Rachel gasped between giggles, her nerves welcoming the first thrilling sensations, she half pulled her arms down in an instinctive move to protect herself before regaining control and straightening up. With her eyes closed she slowly extended her arms up and bent her legs so her short tickler could reach her underarms. As the short but experienced fingers reached the hollows of her underarms Rachel shrieked and lost control, her tickler rewarded her by grabbing her in a bear hug. With both arms the voluptuous woman squeezed Rachel’s sides and nuzzled her tummy with her mouth.
“No!... No!!!” Rachel exclaimed amongst frantic laughter, her tone and red face betraying the fact she didn’t want the tickling to stop.
Rachel grabbed her tickle-friend in an attempt to prevent herself from falling over. She was close to her limit but trusted her tickler. Rachel sometimes fantasised about giving control over to this woman, knowing her boundaries would be respected. As the Auburn Valkyrie dropped one hand to tickle the backs of Rachel’s knees the tickling got too much for the tall brunettes to bear and she cried out;
“Okay that’s enough!”
It was a subtle change in tone but one that her tickler understood. Grinning she stopped her assault and let her friend catch her breath. A part of her longed to tie this tall beauty down and tickle her for hours, especially since she had never had a chance to tickle those soft sexy feet; but she valued the fun playful sessions too much so kept her more intense desires for the Red Zone. As Rachel’s cheeks flushed with exhilaration as the adrenaline from her recent stimulation coursed through her veins the auburn-haired wench pulled her own mistletoe necklace from the fold of her jumper with perfect timing;
“My turn?....” She asked with an inviting smile
Rachel’s eyes sparkled as she quickly blew her former tickler a kiss.
The Auburn Valkyrie smiled and removed her scarf holding it high above her head. This exposed her neck and underarms, her two favourite spots as Rachel well knew. The auburn beauty wore a strange woolly jumper that exposed her bare underarms whilst still looking very snug and warm. Rachel knew that her friend liked soft gentle tickles on her neck and underarms and slightly firmer squeezes on her sides. With glee she dug in causing the short well-built woman to giggle and chuckle but ever keep her arms up. As Rachel was using her fingertips in the hollows of her playmate’s smooth underarms she got an idea.
Rachel quickly seized both of her friend’s long braids and used the tips to swish up and down her underarms. The new unexpected sensation caught the auburn wench by surprise, she had been keeping her eyes closed and biting her lip so the new attack took her completely by surprise. Rachel laughed as she tickled, the soft bush-like tips of each braid made the perfect tickle tool and rendered her victim helpless with laughter, unable to keep still but still enjoying the tickles. Rachel dropped the braids and delivered a rigorous tummy tickle that nearly had her friend on the floor. Eventfully the two women ended up hugging and laughing to an admiring crowd who had haphazardly formed to watch the show. The crowd dispersed being drawn to the sounds of more feverish laughter coming from one of the tents.
“Shall we go and see what is happening? That sounds fun!” The Auburn Valkyrie asked.
“Erm… Sure!” Rachel stuttered, before adding: “I’m Rachel by the way!”
“Rowan!” The Auburn haired beauty replied with a smile.
Rachel and Rowan walked arm in arm to the tent, closer and more comfortable with each other than friends who had just exchanged names for the first time would normally be thanks to all the tickle games they had played together. Rachel beamed, she had been planning to learn a few of her favourite playmates’ names for a while and was thrilled that she had finally found the confidence to ask. Inside the tent two stocked women were struggling as numerous ticklers explored both their feet and upper bodies. The light-beige stocks held both their ankles and wrists with the smaller holes trapping their hands slightly higher than the ones trapping their sexy feet. Rachel could tell there was something different about the stocks but couldn’t quite put her finger on it, there was something about the way they stayed still instead of shaking…. And there was a spicy Christmassy smell in the tent too…
Rowan was chuckling as if she had heard a droll joke, she pointed to a sign attached to the back of the tent which read;
‘Whilst Stocks Last!
In large Christmassy letters. Rachel knew this had something to do with the strange light brown stocks but didn’t get it. The scene contained far too many distractions for Rachel to focus; not only was the tanned brunette on the left receiving an intense tickle torture that terrified Rachel the Goth Black Feather was directing two of her little helpers to pipe icing in between the pale toes of the Chestnut-haired woman on the right hand side of the stocks. Rachel was always nervous around Amy: The Goth Black feather, she had been the one who ruled that no wrong had been done by the Angelic Blonde after the intense torture session she found herself trapped in back in the summer. She recognised the two blondes piping in the icing but did not know their names, each wore a green feather with a black tip and was often used as ‘display models’ by the event organisers to showcase new games and devices. Rachel had tickled them many times and preferred the neater more nervous blonde than her scruffy friend, loving the soft Scandinavian giggles she elicited.
There was something different about the toe-ties too, they looked like plastic and went through small holes in the stocks rather than being attached to metal loops. Rachel could see that there were lots of these little holes in the stocks in the areas above each trapped foot and not all of them had been used, she was certain this had something to do with the joke she didn’t understand but could not focus as the last of the icing was applied and the first patrons began licking the chestnut-haired woman’s toes. First in line for this treat were two French identical twins; Rachel was not surprised these two had a thing for licking toes. Rachel squirmed not entirely comfortable with foot-licking, a part of her thought a tongue exploring her exquisite toes might feel nice. Another part of her dreaded the wet slimy sensations like slugs and snails slithering over her feet. Rachel was absolutely certain she didn’t want to lick anyone else’s feet: that much she knew for sure!
A little uncomfortable the tall brunette refocused her attention on the tanned brunette, her gorgeous smooth skin was being explored by those behind the stocks through her skimpy top and the many holes in her pre-distressed jeans. In front of the stocks her soles were being tormented with feathers and fingers, as well as Rowan’s hair who beckoned her friend to join her. Shy but keen to join the fun Rachel stopped lurking at the back of the tent and made her way to join Rowan. As she approached she spotted some two men holding each of their tanned victim’s shoulders from the front; they occasionally used one hand to tickle the brunette’s tummy and side but mostly lent their strength to the effort of preventing her from bending forwards; completely confused Rachel shot a glance to the chestnut haired woman to her right whose toes were being slowly licked clean of icing by the devious French twins. To her amazement the pale desperate woman was gnawing on the top of the stocks that held her ankles.
Suddenly all the pieces clicked into place in Rachel’s mind: ‘The Stocks were made out of Gingerbread!’
The chestnut haired woman was back from gnawing in the same fashion as the brunette and protested through a mouthful of crumbs;
“Nwoo lickin’ Ihhh hhh-aaeee-atte eeeeiiihhhht!”
In front of the stocks the two devious French twins used their well manicures nails to tease their victim’s arches and heels whilst slowly licking at the last remains of the icing. They kept the cruel dance of their fingernails going as they shot each other wicked smiles, their faces smudged with icing.
“Hmmmm…. I think the purpose of the game is to render them incapable of escape through tickling them rather than holding them back” Amy asserted, before adding: “Do we have anymore icing?”
Despite the chestnut haired woman’s protests more icing was piped in-between her toes by the Scandinavian duo, meanwhile the upper body torture was taken up a notch as those restraining the women were free to tickle their sides instead. Rachel had found her niche slowly running her fingers up and down the tops of the tanned brunette’s feet between the stocks and the brunette’s trapped feet. She loved the way her victim’s smooth skin felt and was glad she didn’t have to share this underappreciated tickle spot with the myriad of sadistic ticklers who eagerly jostled to get a place at her arches and toes. Rachel watched in fascination as the poor woman’s toes curled against her toe-ties which Rachel finally figured out to be strawberry bootlaces. The tanned brunette had managed a few bites at her stocks but the tickling was too much and she resorted to head-butting the concave divet she had made in pure desperation. The Gingerbread was firm but soft enough to absorb each blow without risking a concussion, it cracked and split with each blow but did not break or crumble away.
To the right the French twins had been forced to abandon the chestnut haired woman’s pale arches to the crowd. Each followed Rachel’s led and used one hand to tease the tops of the victim’s long feet whilst reaching around the stocks to find the backs of her sensitive knees. The poor woman was absolutely frantic and incapable of even trying to bite at the top of her stocks.
The tanned brunette had manged to take a few more bites from hers and crumbs festooned the tips of her long hair, getting stuck in the pale Gold tips that had been kissed by the sun. Rachel and Rowan tickled for a while longer, exploring the chestnut haired beauty once it was time for the tanned brunette to have icing piped between her toes. Eventually Rowan picked up on her friend’s subtle signals that she longed for gentler tickling, even though she had just learnt the tall brunette’s name she had been engaging with Rachel in tickle fights and had hoped to bring her out of her shell for a long time. Rowan suggested they get a cup of hot chocolate each and smiled later when Rachel tickled the waitress’s foot through her thermal leggings that made this bit of theatre practical given the cold weather. In the Castle event’s café there was always one waitress pretending to be on a break; usually sat underneath a large sign saying ‘You may tickle the waitress here’ whilst she dangled her shoes from her toes and pretended to read a magazine. These gentler more playful tickles were more to Rachel’s liking. Rowan could tell that her friend was getting a tad uncomfortable in the tent as the tickling started to get more intense.
As the pair ambled around the castle between tents and the jugglers and entertainers hired to maintain a lively atmosphere Rowan introduced Rachel to numerous friends she had tickled and wrestled with at previous events. There was a voluptuous red-haired lady who Rachel could not wait to blow a kiss to. Rachel beamed as the recipient of her kiss raised her arms in anticipation. Rachel knew that whilst this woman loved to be tickled, she was extremely ticklish and always struggled wildly. Today was no exception and as Rowan joined her the rambunctious redhead involuntarily lashed out, narrowly missing Rowan’s wide smiling face.
“Careful sweetie!” Rowan chided.
“It’s no use, you are going to have to restrain me!” The vivacious ginger wench declared gleefully.
“With pleasure Jenna!” Rowan replied, giving Rachel her new playmates name.
Rowan and Rachel guided Jenna to an empty tent, inside was a black St Andrew’s cross with red leather straps as well as a space heater and a small table bearing an assortment of tickle-toys. With the heater the tent was pleasantly warm so all three women stripped off their large coats and woolly jumpers. Rowan wore a Black Halter-neck top from some Heavy Metal band’s tour whilst Rachel wore a far simpler white strappy top. As Jenna undresses she took Rachel’s breath away; underneath her clothes she was wearing pyjamas. Jenna’s ample bosom filled the stripy cotton top and her thin matching leggings promised to leave her thighs vulnerable to soft slow teasing tickles. As their victim slipped her socked feet back into her boots both Rachel and Rowan stood amazed.
“I kinda wanted a duvet-day this morning! It’s a shame there isn’t a bed you can tie me to!” Jenna explained with a sly wink
“There might be in one of the other tents…” Rowan teased as she examined the jingling straps and buckles on the St Andrew’s cross.
Soon Jenna was standing with her arms and legs splayed out, every spot expect for her feet was exposed for torture. Rowan and Rachel began softly, giggling the mocking laugh of the ‘Ler as the circled their prey. Rachel began in the crooks of Rowans elbows working down to her underarms whilst Rowan knelt to use the same trick from the backs of the knees up. The anticipation caused Jenna to blush, her underarms and thighs where especially ticklish and her captors knew it from the many tickle fights and game. Jenna’s sensitivity and vulnerability were enhanced by the slow teasing dance of her captor’s from one sensitive spot to another, as Rachel’s fingers found her underarms Jenna exploded testing the strength of her restraints. Sensing Victory Rowan dug into Jenna’s thighs with brutal kneading and squeezing tickles that caused the voluptuous Ginger Wench to go crazy.
The St Andrew’s cross shook violently but the buckles did not give, suddenly Rachel noticed that Jingle bells and been added to the restraints and giggled at the fun. Normally she stuck to gentle tickles but she knew Jenna liked to be tickled vigorously, until she was close the maximum amount of torture she could stand but not quite past her limits. Grinning Rachel moved her attention to Jenna’s sides and ribs tickling under her bouncing sumptuous breasts. Rowan continued to tease Jenna’s thighs, occasionally moving into her victim’s inner thighs and hips with the brutal squeezes before softly stroking her hand up and down each trapped thigh. Rachel began to move her hands in small circles around the deadly spot between Jenna’s sides and just above her hips. She looked her captive straight in the eyes and asked;
“Do you know where I am going next?”
“Ooohh –ho-ho! Yes! Haa-haa!” Jenna replied.
As Rachel pounced to deliver a deadly barrage of tummy tickles Jenna thrashed in between agony and ecstasy as her most ticklish spot was exploited.
“The tummy!.... The tummy!... The tummy!.. THE TUMMY!!!” Jenna cried as she rocked back and forth in Rhapsody.
With her Tummy, thighs and knees being vigorously tickled Jenna thrashed in her bondage caught between heaven and hell and her two tormentors chuckled the slow regular laugh of those doing the tickling. Rachel always though it was odd in the tickling videos she watched before discovering the castle events; the way the ticklers laughed together as they tickled. She didn’t realise until she was halfway through her first tickle fight that she was laughing the same laugh even when she wasn’t being tickled. Occasionally she still caught herself doing it when delivering tickles but she had learnt not to question it, the slow release of laughter as she tickled was something instinctive and something she craved. The two women continued to tickle Jenna until she hung limp in her bondage and the jingle bells attached to the straps and buckles finally stopped ringing.
“God I needed that!” Jenna moaned with her last breath as Rowan began releasing her.
“Now earlier we discussed finding a tent with a bed…” Rowan teased as she undid Jenna’s last buckle.
“Oh! Fair enough!” Jenna moaned as Rowan lifted her bodily, one arm up her back the other behind her knees.
Rowan was not big but strong and carried Jenna out of the tent as Rachel excitedly dated between the many tents with vacant signs until she found one with a large four-poster bed.
“There is one in here!.... There is one in here!!!!” Rachel chirped when she found a tent with the required bondage equipment.
“Okay, but be gentle!” Jenna warned as Rowan carried her into the tent.
Without a reply Rowan tossed Jenna onto the thick mattress before pouncing on top of her and straddling her face down. Exhausted from her standing ordeal Jenna could not resist having her wrists secured to the headboard. Rachel began removing Jenna’s boots with glee, she knew Jenna’s feet were not her most ticklish spot but had a plan in mind. Playfully the Northern brunette delivered some teasing sock tickles, loving her victim’s red and green Christmassy socks and the warmth of the long feet within. Rowan had ceased to straddle Jenna and lay alongside her victim exploring her underarms and sides; facedown bed-tied tickles were one of her favourites, from this position she could reach anywhere on her victim’s body. Underarms, necks, sides, ribs, even the tremendous tummy if she burrowed one arm under her writhing prey and tickled upwards. Rowan was clever and wanted to use all of her limbs;
“Rachel Darling?” The Auburn Wench cooed, “Would you mind removing my boots I fancy using my toes and some occasional sock tickles if you wouldn’t mind…”
Gleefully Rachel obliged exposed Rowan’s wide feet in her colourful: green, red and brown socks. Rachel could resist delivering some playful sock tickles and loved the way her friend’s soles scrunched up in their warm socks depicting; snowmen, holly-sprigs and Christmas puddings. Rachel returned to Jenna’s long feet and began slowly removing her Christmassy socks to reveal her long pale feet. Rachel tutted, having guessed Jenna would not have cared for her sexy feet the way she did for her own.
“Such beautiful feet ruined by callouses on the heels and toes!” The Northern brunette sighed.
“Hey I am on my feet all day!” Jenna protested.
“So am I” Rachel retorted, digging through her bag for the micro-pedi she had brought.
“Then perhaps you will let us tie you up and tickle your feet sometime Rachel?…” Rowan teased as she cleverly used her toes to tease the backs of Jenna’s knees.
Rachel just blushed and clicked the micropedi on. As it began to whir Jenna struggled to look behind her to see what was happening.
“Hey what is that?...” She asked.
“… Give the gift of beautiful feet this Christmas!” Rachel began before descending into giggles, imitating an advert for such a device that always caused her to stop what she was doing and pay attention to the TV.
Soon Jenna’s feet were de-calloused and looking soft, smooth and sexy. They were not bad callouses, just the result of the Ginger Wench not being a ‘foot person’. Rachel looped string around both of Jenna’s big toes and began tying them to the frame of the bed. Jenna struggled, she hated the feeling of immobility this gave, it made her knees and hamstrings more ticklish as well as making her feet feel helpless. In truth Jenna’s feet were one of her least ticklish spots. But when tickled alongside her knees and thighs they drove her insane. Rowan repositioned herself to use her short but skilled fingers on Jenna’s legs. The result was immediately panic. Jenna began to struggle as her ticklers gleefully pushed her past her limits into tickle hell. Rachel was unaware of the full effect that her administrations had as Jenna descended into silent laughter. Rowan meanwhile knew exactly what she was doing; frantically Jenna struggled as her knees and thighs were explored through the soft, thin fabric of her pyjama bottoms. Cleverly Rowan had positioned her toes in each of Jenna’s armpits and as the captive wench struggled she tickled herself, Rowan barely had to wiggle her toes. Rachel used a soft feather to explore each of Jenna’s toes as she simultaneously used her nails on the creamy shallow arches, occasionally she would trace the sharp side of the feather up and down those arches and watch as Jenna’s soles desperately tried to escape. Rachel lost track of time and went into a Zen state as she tested out different technique on the canvas of soft pale skin before her.
Eventually Rowan decided Jenna had suffered enough, knowing what pure hell her knees and thighs were if tickled like this. The full extent of Jenna’s suffering was not clear to Rachel until their victim curled up into a ball after she was released. Rachel blushed and mumbled some apologies as Jenna continued to gulp down lung-fulls of air between residual giggles. After she finally caught her breath and slipped on her Christmassy socks she looked Rowan in the eyes;
“I owe you one!” Jenna threatened ominously.
Rowan did not seem too worried, and Jenna was not too angry. But still Rachel was glad she had not received the threat, she had not realised she had broken her own Golden Rule: Not to dish out tickle torture she herself could not take. Rachel was too caught up in the Euphoria of the Castle Event to feel too guilty. She had some more hot Chocolate and a few mince pies with Rowan and relaxed, watching other patrons tickle the waitress and pondering what were in the other tents. Eventually Rowan interrupted her musings;
“C’mon, we are going to miss the choosing thing…” The Auburn Valkyrie declared.
“Ch….ch-choosing?” Rachel stuttered.
“Yeah didn’t you read through the blurb when you signed up for the mistletoe necklace?” Rowan replied heading to the rear of the courtyard
Rachel’s heart sank, she usually read through the terms and conditions meticulously, knowing what fates befall patrons who did not know the fine details of what they were signing up for. But when she had read the bit about the kiss blowing game she had got so excited she danced then skipped to the end and signed up. Nervously the tall northern brunette made her way to an open area at the rear of the courtyard, it was near the entrance to the Red Zone which only made her more nervous. There was a stage which prominently featured a set of stocks and some other bondage equipment. But it was the stocks that frightened Rachel, they looked sturdy and heavy, with toe-ties and a back designed to lift the victim’s arms above their head. As the courtyard filled with the other patrons with mistletoe necklaces she remained transfixed on the heavy stocks, shivering and not just because of the cold. Arm in arm with Rowan she clung to her friend, glad of the comfort and support.
“Now then the moment you have all been waiting for!...” Amy’s voice declared.
Rachel shivered, it was the Gothic Black Feather who frightened her; Amy stood with one spiky boot up on the stocks and scanned the crowd looking for her victim.
“…When I press this one of your necklaces will activate and those little red berries will start flashing, when this happens I want all of you to help the lucky winner into our stocks for some Christmas tickle fun” As Amy finished speaking her eyes found Rachel.
Rachel squirmed under Amy’s gaze; somehow she just knew it would be her that got chosen for the stocks. Amy tried to conceal her evil grin but it peeked through. It was worth the time she spent devising an algorithm that revealed which patrons read through all the Terms and Conditions and which ones simply scrolled down to the end. She; like Rachel had danced with joy when she found out the tall northern beauty had skipped past the bit about the flashing berries. As Amy slowly pressed the button she anticipated her little Christmas present to herself, Amy had longed to get a chance to tickle Rachel’s feet ever since the event in the Summer when she spied those long pale feet in their black strappy Sandals. Rachel panicked as all eyes turned to her, she looked down at the red flashing berries on her fake-mistletoe necklace.
“Oh Sweetie!” Rowan cooed sympathetically, sensing her friend’s fear through their linked arms.
It was strange, Rachel thought about trying to run but the sense of panic trapped her like a rabbit in headlights. All she was aware of was her own breathing and the stocks getting closer, from behind her she heard Rowan shout;
“Go easy on her!”
It was only when Rachel was locked in the stocks that her stunned panic gave way to desperate struggles. Her boots were pulled off and the weight of the heavy wood on top of her ankles made her plight come sharply into focus. Amy’s: The volunteers from the crowd held Rachel’s arms high above her head whilst Amy’s ‘Little helpers’ secured them to the leather straps. All of the stage crew were dressed as elves whilst Amy wore her usual gothic-attire. With a look of pure delight Amy examined her prize as she removed her victim’s colourful socks. Rachel’s feet were as soft and perfect as they had been on that summer’s day, except now they had red nail polish instead of black.
“No! Please!” Rachel whined as a leather strap was secured over her knees making her almost totally immobile.
“Sorry Luv, but you were selected” Amy replied as she started preparing the toe-ties. She mentally checked she had said ‘selected’ and not ‘randomly selected’ as she slipped the first loop over Rachel’s big toes.
Soon all ten of Rachel exquisite toes were tied back and splayed out, several heaters kept her bare feet warm so it was only fear she shivered from as Amy switched the camera’s on. Close ups of Rachel’s feet and several wide shots of her predicament came to life on several screens, humiliated Rachel squirmed as her plight was projected for the crowd’s entertainment. In the crowd Rowan shuffled her feet and tried to think of a way to rescue her friend, this was going to be too much for poor Rachel and she dreaded losing her tickle-pal. It was clear that Rachel was both terrified and embarrassed as the members of the crowd who had dragged her to the stage reluctantly returned. Amy however wanted to have some fun with her new toy;
“So I have seen you here many times and you never let yourself be stocked or tied down and rarely expose these pretty feet, I wonder is this perhaps because you are foot-ticklish?....” She began, spider-walking her long talon-like nails across the top of the stocks.
“No please! Don’t tickle my feet!... They are so sensitive!” Rachel blubbered
“I know, you take good care of your feet! Almost as if you want them to be sensitive…” Amy teased, running one fingertip up and down each arch being careful not to use her long nails.
“No-hoho-hoo-hoo hahah haahaa!!! Please let me go-ho-ho!” Rachel begged through desperate laughter, not able to respond to Amy’s question.
“Oh yes these feet are dreadfully ticklish! I wonder how they respond to feathers…” Amy mused selecting a stiff goose feather and a softer fluffier feather.
Rachel was indeed feather sensitive and pleaded as feathers were run up and down her arches and in-between her helpless toes. Amy moved on to use feathers and fingers on her upper body for a short while before returning to her feet. With an evil smile she wiggled all ten fingers above the stocks her black and silver nails promising a torment Rachel could not endure.
“No Please! Not my feet again!” Rachel begged as she frantically squirmed. So far Amy had stuck to gentle playful tickles but still her humiliating plight had made the soft sensations a terrible torture for poor Rachel.
“Yes, and my fingernails are especially sharp and tickly today!” Amy teased slowly descending her wiggling fingers in a slow ominous dance that had Rachel in a state of breathless anxiety before they had even made contact. Amy loved dominating this sexy tall brunette, she was barely a quarter of the way through her cruel plan and the poor thing was already in pieces. As her nails made contact with the soft soles she began a well-rehearsed pattern she found to have the most torturous effect on ticklish soles. Rachel went from nervous apprehension to a full on explosion of ticklish thrashing; she was desperate to escape the torment, but her torturer was merciless and the stocks sturdy and secure.
Amy cackled as Rachel howled, the poor brunette had never experienced such torture. Desperately she twisted one way and the other instinctively trying to find a way to escape the pure hell of Amy’s nails despite the hopelessness of her bondage. Every now and then Amy would slow and softly tease each arch with gentle slow strokes of her fingertips. This allowed Rachel to inhale deeply between soft giggles as she anticipated the return of the dreaded sharp fingernails. After the second or third reprieve the horrible fingernails did not return to their cruel dance, instead Rachel shut her eyes tightly wishing for an end to this nightmare. As she opened her eyes they focused on a small silver object Amy was holding for her to see; the spectre of a spiky wheel on a thin metallic handle came into focus and Rachel panicked;
“No! Not that!” Rachel begged, she had only seen tools like this used in tickling video but dreaded the effect it would have on her soft feet.
“Oh yes it is time for tools!” Amy declared holding the spiky wheel up for the crowd to see.
Amy started off with one of the spiky wheels at each of Rachel’s heels. Slowly she ran the terrible devices up applying just the right amount of pressure. The effect was less torturous than her nails but nerve racking for the poor brunette who struggled and squirmed. Rachel took good care of her heels and the progressions of the horrible spikes tickled a lot but she knew her arches were by far more ticklish and she knew they were next. Amy increased speed and decreased pressure as she reached her victim’s creamy arches, and randomly changed direction to backtrack at a different angles. The effect was devastating and Rachel shook her head and begged silent pleas for mercy. The little spikes were like kitten’s claws and tickled just as much on the balls of her feet and the dreadful spot under her toes. Eventually Amy gave her a break and held up the tools for the crowd to see.
“Now these have a little bit of red tape on the handle because they are sharp, we have some blunter for those less experienced in the use of this deadly tickle tool. Be assured if you push too hard or allow our lovely victim to come to harm you will be punished for your transgressions….”
It took Rachel a moment to understand the implication of what Amy had just said: ‘The crowd were going to get a chance to tickle her’ She realised. Nervously she scanned the crowd; eager after eager face looked at her hungrily. From amongst the sea of faces one angelic face caught her eye: It was the blonde who had tickled her past her limits. Rachel didn’t think her situation could get any worse but as Amy demonstrated the faster strokes possible with the duller wheels she couldn’t get the evil glimmer in those angelic blonde eyes out of her head. Next Amy demonstrated the hairbrush; something Rachel had dreaded. If the wheels were past her limit the hundreds of dancing bristles and bobbles were a thousand times worse. They drove Rachel from exhaustion into a full blown screaming tantrum as she desperately tried to escape her bonds.
“Wow! She certainly has some lungs on her!... Normally this sweet little things is as quiet and shy as a mouse…. Well I had better let you lucky people take a turn at making her squeal and shriek” Amy declared.
Rachel drew heavy breathes as Amy set the draw. In the crowd Red lights flashed and twinkled as the many patrons mistletoe necklaces lit up in turn. Rachel’s vision blurred and it was almost like a tiny little light show. Excitedly each patron looked down excitedly as their necklace flashed.
“Any moment now!....” Amy purred.
The lights stopped, a red flashing light was joined by an excited cry. It was one of the French identical twins. Rachel moaned: ‘No guessing what her feet were going to be subjected to next!’ She thought to herself. Both of the lithe willowy blondes made their way onto the stage with no objection from Amy or the other organisers, all of whom wore festive elf costumes. With a grin each knelt by Rachel’s feet and licked their lips. Rachel curled her toes against the little loops and grumbled in disgust. She giggled as each of the twins blew on her toes, enjoying their victim’s anticipation and revulsion. To Rachel’s surprise the sensations were not as unpleasant as she expected, the tongues tickled slightly but didn’t feel like slugs or snails. They were warm and smooth whilst textured enough to be rough at the same time.
The toe-licking was almost relaxing after Rachel’s ordeal under Amy’s cruel administrations. The twins also used their short but effective nails to scratch at Rachel’s arches and heels making her writhe and struggle. Occasionally one would reach under the stocks and tease the backs of her knees with their fingertips keeping her in a state of constant ticklish anxiety. The worst ticklish sensations were when they nibbled her toes, the first time they did it Rachel let out a squeak that made the crowd chortle with laughter. Rachel was astounded at how tickly having her toes nibbled was. She could feel every facet of her tormentor’s teeth as they skilfully nibbled with just the right amount of pressure. Worst of all she could never predict when they were going to do it.
After a while Amy decided Rachel wasn’t suffering enough and began removing Rachel’s jumper. Soon it was over her head and being manoeuvred through the straps which Amy unbuckled one at a time. Soon Rachel was shivering in the cool air feeling helpless without the protection the thick jumper gave. Her bare underarms were on display in her white strappy top as Amy picked up a couple of feathers and adjusted her headset.
“Okay you lucky people, time to select some of you to tease the beauties lovely underarms and neck, this time we have programed the system to select two volunteers so keep your fingers crossed that the lights stop for you”.
Once again the many red berries on patron’s necklaces flashed, the merry light display flittering throughout the crowd. Rachel giggled as Amy ran the feather up and down each underarm for the duration of the light show. Eventually two patrons were picked: One a cute Punk-rock girl who must have just turned 18 the other an older woman with silver hair. Each gladly accepted a set of feathers and set to work. The added sensations drove Rachel further into insanity as the twins at her soles continued to lick and nibble. To make matters worse the older woman gave the teenager tickler tips on how to torment Rachel hypersensitive skin, saying things like;
“Remember to tickle her neck every now and then to keep her on edge”
And;
“Vary between small circles and long vertical strokes of the feather”
Rachel hated the feeling of helplessness this gave her. But not as much as when Amy blindfolded her so she couldn’t predict the sensations. Now every time the soft feathers swished across her neck or face it came as a total surprise. At least Rachel wasn’t constantly reminded of the spectacle she had been tricked into making of herself as the crowd was hidden from her. The crowd had grown bored of the gentle tickle torture and Amy sensed it was time to take it up a notch, she didn’t think the Northern brunette could take much more but the twin licking her soles caught her eye. They were always popular with the crowd and a superb way to get more people involved.
“Now ladies and gentlemen I have just been informed that there has been an infraction upon the rules of this game as only one of the lovely twins here received permission to join us on stage; may I asked whose mistletoe flashed?”
Both twins claimed the honour without seeming to contradict one another or claiming the other was a liar: they smiled sweetly and looked as though butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.
“Naturally of course the interloper will be tormented for the crowd’s amusement” Amy added.
“It was ‘er she followed me on stage” The both declared in broken unison, their natural alliance broken.
“I see well luckily I have a solution that should prove entertaining….” Amy declared, grinning.
A long set of portable stocks with four holes was brought forth, it was closer to the ground than Rachel’s set and the twins were encouraged to remove their shoes and kneel in it, their feet close to the edge of the stage. Rachel’s blindfold was removed as she was given a brief respite from foot-torture. The gentle feather sensations were almost bearable and if it wasn’t for the crowd and her sense of helplessness she might have almost enjoyed them. In lieu of honey some caramel syrup was brought forth from the café and Amy applied it lovingly to Rachel’s feet. Each of the twins wrist were handcuffed under the stocks close to the backs of Rachel’s knees, a leather collar was also placed around their necks keeping their faces close to Rachel’s feet. Both began to lick until Amy seized their pony tails and held their heads back.
“Not yet girls I haven’t explained the rules!” You have ten minutes to lick these pretty feet clean. After that I will taste test them and if there is even a hint of caramel the pair of you will become our next exhibit” Amy loved the sense of power as she spoke, both the twins even gulped in unison: dreading the rack or other bondage devices prepared on the stage.
Amy release her grip on their fine blonde hair and eagerly their tongues set to work. Rachel shrieked, the licking was faster and not as loving but tickled like crazy. Amy sat on the stage and began softly tickling the twins trapped feet as she addressed the crowd;
“Now four more ticklish feet have become available so four more of you lovely people will be selected. This time a faster flicker of the light Maestro!”
The lights danced around the crowd and soon four excited ticklers approached; three men and one woman. Eagerly they stood close to the stage and tickled the pretty feet on display. For the twins it was too much and neither could effectively lick. Each varied between throwing their heads back in laughter and leaning forwards and head-butting Rachel’s soles getting syrup in their hair. Rachel was glad of the distraction and giggled softly as the young Punk-rock chick received an expert tutorial in the finer points of feather tickling from a highly experienced expert. Amy decided the soft feather tickles were insufficient torture for Rachel and accelerated the next phase of her plan;
“Congratulations!” She said to the silver-haired woman with a smile: “You have won!”
“Have I?” The older woman asked
“Won what?” Her teenage accomplice asked curtly.
“Oh didn’t you know? The best tickler gets a turn tickling their partner whilst we get the next pair up on stage. Now how would you like her, stocked, racked or hung up by her ankles” Amy explained as the look of panic spread across the Punk-rock chick’s face.
“That St Andrew’s Cross with the kneeling stool in front looks interesting!” The older woman replied with a smile.
“What! Wait! You can’t do that!” The teenager objected.
“All in the rules, your lights flashed red and now you are getting tickled” Amy replied as the elves closed in on the teenager who was glancing apprehensively around.
“Okay ten minutes if you go willingly, longer if you struggle!” Amy declared.
It was the teenager’s first castle event having turned eighteen a few weeks before. Foolishly she decided to make a break for it and was quickly seized by the elves who skilfully had her safely and securely grasped to the crowd’s delight. Within moments she was being stripped as she was frogmarched to the St Andrew’s cross.
“Do you have clean underwear on sweetie?” The older woman asked as she undid the poor girl’s belt.
Rachel squirmed as her foot-licking sporadically continued and was thankful that she was currently largely being ignored and that she had been spared the humiliation of being stripped to her underwear that the Punk-Rock chick was presently suffering. Futilely the teenager kicked as her tattered jeans were removed. It was as though the St Andrew’s cross was made for the poor girl, her toes fit perfectly into the toe-ties on the side of the kneeling stool.
“Take as long as you want with this one, and would you like any friends to share her with?” Amy asked the silver haired woman as she gagged the screaming teenager.
“Perhaps a couple to tickle her sides, I am in the mood for feet and think she should experience what she learnt from me first hand” The silver-haired woman replied settling down at her victim’s feet.
The poor girl thrashed as her former instructor slowly teased her arches with her long nails but it was no use.
Centre-stage Rachel watched quietly as two more ticklers were brought up onto the stage. She hoped they would be sent to tickle the teenager whilst she continued to be ignored be all but the twins licking her feet. She sighed with relief as her wish was granted and each took up a position on either side of the St Andrews cross. They both picked up long feathers and received the same tutorial their victim had received moments earlier.
“Were you getting lonely sweetie?” Amy asked as she approached Rachel.
Rachel moaned as her hopes of a continued reprieved faded. Her soles were being sporadically licked by the twins but apart from that she had been allowed to catch her breath.
“Now ladies and gentlemen you have seen how feather can torment as woman as delicately sensitive as this paragon of ticklishness. Now I shall demonstrate some more infuriating techniques and two of you lucky people will get to drive this poor woman to the limits of her endurance.” Amy address the eager crowd.
Behind her the muffled screams and pitiful pleas of the teenager kept the sadists entranced as one camera focused on her soft young soles and another on a wide shot of the feathers dancing up and down her underarms and across her neck, tummy, back and thighs. The silver-haired woman’s two protégées had excelled at the lessons previous taught using Rachel as a prop and now were expanding their skill set to include areas that on Rachel had mercifully remained clothed. However Rachel’s clothes would be of no protection against the torment Amy was about to unleash.
“Now I shall begin with these lovely underarms to demonstrate the difference between finger and feather tickles”. Amy began slowly spidering her fingertip in the hollows of Rachel’s smooth deep underarms.
Before Amy had finished Rachel was already hysterical. She struggled to pull her arms down to protect herself but her bondage was perfect.
“Now if you have a ticklish little thing to yourself like this remember to vary your tickle target, see how much more she responds if I move down to her sides and ribs like this” Amy continued.
Rachel’s hysteria turned to madness as Amy began to pluck at her ribs and poke at her sides. She hated being demonstrated this way, she felt totally helpless and humiliated as the crowd watched her ordeal.
“Of course in addition to your fingertips those of you with nails should be sure to use them!” Amy decreed softly fluttering her sharp nails so that they danced rather than scratched.
“NOOOOO!!! STOP THIS! HAHAAHAAA I HA-HAA-HAAA-ATE THIS!” Rachel screamed in rage, her face red and her body vibrating frantically in its perfect bondage.
“It seems that technique is quite effective folks, so I shall leave you to try it out for yourselves in a moment, before we pick three lucky winners let me show you some tricks to tickle her knees, hips, tummy and thighs!” Amy announced.
Amy continued to exhibit Rachel to the crowd’s delight and her victim’s abhorrence. The Jeans and thermal leggings proved to be of no protection to her ticklish legs and her tummy and hips were even worse. Finally the time came to choose three members of the crowd and Rachel dreaded their combined efforts on her ticklish body. Even Amy’s demonstration had been gruelling enough, even the thought of three ticklers working her over after being shown all the best techniques and tricks to drive her insane made Rachel’s skin crawl. The lights in the crowd flickered and soon enough three lucky sadists made their way up the stage. Rachel was too exhausted to make out their gender or even their distinguishing features. Her entire perception of reality consisted of the tickly sensation that flittered between her underarms, legs, tummy and every part of her sensitive body. She did not even notice when the twins were released and Amy gave her soles the ‘Taste Test’.
“Hmm…. Both still have a distinct hint of Caramel so I think it will be back-to-back in stocks for you two!” Amy declared.
The twins were escorted to another part of the stage. The elves brought forth two sets of small stocks and a bench with straps for their thighs. The twins were sat on the bench back-to-back with their thighs strapped down tight and their collars joined together with thin chains. The elves seized the twins’ arms and suspended them high above their heads using cables attached to the stage. Unlike the teenager who still struggled on the St Andrew’s cross the twins knew resistance would do them no good and apprehensively accepted their fate, squirming as their socks were removed. Twelve new members of the crowd were selected and took up positions around the twins. Four in front of each set of stocks shared a long sexy foot each. Four stood to either side of the twins working over their lithe slim upper bodies. The remaining two took command over the backs of the twin’s knees which were unprotected by the bench. The twins were used to be tickled but with an average of six ticklers each the descended into instant sensory overload.
Central stage, Rachel was delirious from her ordeal in the stocks her tormentors were reluctantly shepherded away, being offered a brief tickle of either the teenager or one of the twins as an incentive to leave poor Rachel alone. The spotlight was switched off and Rachel was descended into darkness. The camera’s that had previously displayed her torment for all to see switched to show the teenager and the twin’s torment. No one was watching at Amy whispered in Rachel’s ear;
“Well done! You have endured most of your initiation ritual! Just a quick break before the final torture!....”
Rachel was too exhausted to answer and slumped in her bondage, her muscles tired from struggling and thrashing her nerves still tingling with phantom tickles.
“…Want to know a secret? Even if the twins had hours to lick your soles would still exude caramel. That syrup gets in your skin. Even after I scrub your soles clean they will still smell and taste sweet and syrupy”
It took Rachel a moment to process what Amy had just said. With a rueful moan she voiced her protest still unable to form words. She had witnessed and heard tales of the sadistic goth-girl’s predilection for this torturous process to guess what was coming next. Still as Amy slowly explained her schemes Rachel couldn’t help but cringe and cower as the cruel sadist whispered in her ears;
“Yes and after they are nice and pink and clean, I am going to heat them to the peak of their sensitivity. A little oil will help broil them till they cannot stand the slightest touch”.
Eventually Amy left Rachel to recuperate in peace, taking a turn tormenting the helpless teenager who too had slumped in her kneeling bondage. Unlike Rachel the teenage girl received mercy from the Black Feather. Amy didn’t want to scare her away so sent her with an elf to the Sanctuary. Excitedly a short blonde woman made her way onto the stage the red lights in her necklace flashing.
“Who do I get to tickle?... Who do I get to tickle?!” She chirped as she looked around.
“Oh No! You are our replacement for the St Andrew’s cross here!” Amy replied.
It took the elves considerable effort to get the woman stripped and strapped in but eventually they managed it. Despite being small the blonde shrieked and screamed loudly and was promptly gagged. Her short but cute toes were tied back and the ticklers set to work. After a few minutes Amy decided to rotate the ticklers and selected new sadists from the audience for the both the twins and the short blonde. Finally she decided Rachel had been left to stew long enough and switched the spotlights and camera’s back on. With a smile she address the crowd;
“Now then Ladies and Gentlemen; you have witnessed numerous tickling techniques. But now I shall demonstrate a process by which feet may be made more receptive to such administrations. Not that our captive her needs to become any more sensitive of course!”
The crowd laughed having already witnessed Rachel’s extreme sensitivity. Most of them knew what was coming next but still waited excitedly for the show to start. Two elves brought forth a large bowl of hot soapy water and a selection of scrubbing brushes;
“No! Not that please!...” Rachel begged pitifully, she knew she was unlikely to receive any mercy but could not help but plead for clemency.
“I’m sorry but we just can’t leave these lovely feet all covered in syrup and saliva, can we?” Amy asked rhetorically, selecting too stiff brushes that fitted to her hands.
Rachel screamed as the bristles made contact. She went form an exhausted malaise to frantic struggles within seconds. Even the hot soapy water that dripped down her soles would have been too much for the hypersensitive brunette to bear, the evil brushes scrubbed and swished bringing the pale feet to a bright pink hue. Amy swapped between brushes, using the full array before finally selecting two electric toothbrushes. Rachel did not think her ordeal could get any worse but she was wrong, as sensitive as her arches were they were nothing compared to the baby-soft skin between her toes and the balls of her feet.
Amy was merciless; she slowly ran the toothbrushes over the trapped, torturously ticklish skin as well as exploring every toe. She manoeuvred the brushes up and down the toe-stems, to the tips of Rachel’s long toes, even repositioning the toe-ties so that no spot went un-tickled. Rachel was in hell and screamed until one of the elves gagged her and then proceeded to give her arches and heels an extra scrub with a long handled brush. Finally satisfied that she had got rid of all the syrup and saliva Amy switched off the toothbrushes and admired her work. Rachel’s pale feet were a delightful shade of pink. ‘Now to roast them to a sweet shade of scarlet!’ she thought to herself as she removed Rachel’s ball-gag to let it dangle around Rachel’s neck.
“Please don’t do this!” Rachel whined.
“Oh there will be no pain!” Amy cooed.
“No more tickling!... I only like soft tickles!” Rachel objected.
“But you are so close to earning this!” Amy replied, pulling out a blue feather necklace and using the black tip to tease Rachel’s face and neck.
“What?” Rachel asked.
“This will grant you free entry to the castle and immunity from the long stocks and random tickles, of course you will have to help out here and there…” Amy explained.
Rachel was too exhausted to argue, she liked the idea of being able to visit every castle event but in that moment she would have promised never to come again to get out of the stocks. Amy repositioned the heaters closer to Rachel’s dripping wet feet and dug out the hairdryers from her box of tricks. She took Rachel’s silence for submission but in truth the tall brunette was too exhausted to argue further. The hot air felt kind of nice at first, Rachel started to get a little uncomfortable as her soles started to heat up. Amy had promised her there would be no pain but she could feel her feet getting hotter. Like a good hot shower the temperature rose to the point where it was just about to get too hot and the plateaued. As the last of the water evaporated Amy stopped and oiled Rachel’s perfect feet;
“Did you know this oil helps the process, it soaks into your skin making it soft and ensuring every nerve is on red alert” Amy asked.
“Please no more!” Rachel begged in quiet desperate voice.
“Oh I’m sorry but you are just too cute, and so many of us have wanted this for such a very long time!” Amy replied, testing Rachel left arch with a finger to see if it was done.
Rachel shrieked, she did not believe her feet could get any more sensitive but Amy’s slow trace proved otherwise.
“Hmm just a little more!” The Goth-girl cooed.
Rachel whimper as her feet were heated, she dreaded the end of this brief respite and was almost in tears as the hairdryers were switched off.
“Now if we could just have a quick recap of these ticklish feet earlier today!” Amy declared for the audience and the elf running the screens.
A video of Amy tickling Rachel’s feet during her demonstration appeared on screen. Rachel’s fear gave way to anger: ‘They had recorded her ordeal!’ Angry but still fretful the Northern Brunette seethed, there was a permanent record of her humiliation and torment for posterity and perversion.
“And now let us see how much more ticklish these pretty feet have become!” Amy announced softly running the tips of her fingers from the balls of Rachel’s feet, across her arches to her heels and up again.
“NOOO!!! HO-HO! HO-HOO! DO-HO-HOON’T!” Rachel wailed, her reaction considerably more frantic than during the video clip of a more intense torture.
Amy wasted no time in torturing the poor woman, she knew she only had a few minutes before it was time to select a volunteer so used her nails and every cruel trick in her repertoire. Oh how she wished she had this hypersensitive angel tied to her bed for the night. Finally the time came and she slipped the ball-gag back in place.
“Now then ladies and gentlemen it looks like we have our first winner! Come up on stage you get these beautiful feet for fifteen minutes…” Amy declared
“If I take the next turn on the St Andrew’s cross can I have them for half an hour?” A Familiar voice asked.
“Sounds like a bargain to me!” Amy chuckled
Rachel knew the sweet dulcet tones but couldn’t place them; desperately she twisted round, her sub-conscious mind warning her of danger. She couldn’t see the woman no matter how she struggled. Not that it mattered as her torturer to be slipped around to take her by surprise, suddenly Rachel was face-to-face with angelic blue eyes and soft blonde hair.
“Hello again my pretty!” The angelic blonde teased, adding: “I was hoping to get another turn tickling these lovely ribs and underarms but having seen how ticklish your feet are I am glad I was not selected until now!
Rachel wailed into her ball-gag: ‘Of all the cruel sadists in the audience the lights had to pick this one!’
“I can’t believe I missed these soft feet last time I had you tied down!” The angelic blonde moved, slipping to the other side of the stocks and settling down.
She began gently, teasing Rachel’s arches with the pads of her fingertips. She was amazed at the desperate reaction even the slightest touch elicited. Then she used her nails, taking Rachel from desperate thrashing to a berserk rage that shook both the stocks and the stage they were bolted to. The blonde used her nails for ten long minutes before deciding to use a hairbrush. The results were devastating, Amy had only used a hairbrush on Rachel’s feet for a few seconds but it was clear that they were far beyond what she could stand, the angelic blonde found that extra oil made the hairbrushes thousands of times worse. The long arduous hairbrush hell comprised the middle part of Rachel’s ordeal at the blonde’s cruel hands. Finally she remembered the toothbrushes and set to work on Rachel’s toes. Never satisfied she used one toothbrush in each hand and held a paintbrush in her mouth to swish cruel swirls all over Rachel’s arches. To Rachel the ordeal last an eternity but to the blonde it was over far too soon.
“Okay time’s up!” Amy announced as the next patron made their way onto the stage.
“Oh no fair! I was just getting started!” The angelic blonde protested.
“Too bad! The elves are waiting for you at the St Andrew’s cross” Amy replied, glad of the bargain she had made.
As the angelic blonde was guided away to a torture that would last the rest of the day Rachel sagged in her bonds as the next torturer looked down at her. She was too exhausted to recognise her friend Rowan standing over her looking down distraught at what had happened to her friend;
“Put me in the stocks in her place!” The Auburn Valkyrie declared.
“That’s not the deal…” Amy stuttered.
“No, but she has clearly had enough and I can handle this kind of torture!... Scrub, oil and heat my feet and I promise you I won’t break!” Rowan replied, knowing the Goth Black Feather would not refuse such a challenge.
Rowan’s toes curled in their boots, she knew the next few hours would be pure tickle-hell but it was worth it to save her friend. As Rachel was guided away to the sanctuary one of the elves whispered in her ear;
“Congratulations on becoming one of us…. Want to know a secret?” It was a blonde elf, who spoke. Slipping the blue and black feather necklace over Rachel’s head.
Rachel gurgled in reply, incapable of forming even syllables let alone words.
“That blonde isn’t getting free any time soon, after the St Andrew’s cross we are going to put her on the rack and then she will take your place in the stocks!... You can even tickle her yourself if you like!”
Rachel still didn’t reply, it would take over two hours for Rachel her to recover from her ordeal and even then she had to be persuaded to return to the stage to receive a special treat. There on the Rack was the angelic blonde, begging muffled pleas into a ball-gag as countless sadistic pored over her ticklish body. Her perfect feet were bright scarlet like: having been scrubbed and heated using the same cruel technique that had been used on Rachel’s soles earlier. Meanwhile in the stocks Rowan suffered stoically, she did not regret her actions but wished she had not goaded the Black Feather to scrub, oil and heat her soles. So far around half of the numerous torturers had gone easy on her, some even congratulating her on her act of self-sacrifice. Then as her feat of endurance just started to test her resolution a familiar face looked down on her;
“I told you I would make you pay!” Jenna declared with a sadistic glimmer in her eyes.
Merry Christmas
