Rockauthor
TMF Master
- Joined
- Apr 21, 2001
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CATHERINE BELL (J.A.G.)
Starring in
“Ticklemada’s Dungeon 2”
(A ticklish celebrity fiction request)
In the dark and terrible days of the Inquisition, the infamous Ticklemada continues his avid pursuit of beautiful young women accused of sorcery. Catherine Bell was a woman on the run. They said that such stunning beauty like hers can only be the fruit of witchcraft. A beauty that no man could resist. A beauty that could cause a man to give up all his worldly possessions just to be enchanted by her loveliness.
Catherine knew not what she did that was so wrong, but she knew she had to run. She had heard the stories before, how the knights of the Grand Inquisitor would descend upon the home of one of those poor girls. They would literally tear them out of their crying mothers arms, dragging them away kicking and screaming to that notorious dungeon.
The young woman hid inside the wagon of a silk merchant along the outskirts of the city. She was out of breath and panting; she tried to still her beating heart, but she was just so frightened. Catherine obsessed on what would happen to her if she were ever caught. Being tickled was her greatest fear. And then there were those other stories, the ones about the defiant women who would fight their ticklishness and resist the torture.
But not she. Catherine Bell was much too ticklish. Just someone wriggling their fingers at her was enough to make her burst into a fit of giggles. Oh my god, she thought, what if they find me? I just couldn’t bare the torture of being tickled in that dungeon. Oh god, what if they tickle my breasts with a feather? I’ll go mad. And what if they tickle my ribs with their devious fingers? I’ll scream. I know I’ll scream. Oh why will they not believe me when I say I’m not a witch.
Right then, a shallow gust of wind blew through the modest wagon, causing the sheets of silk to shift a little; the soft fabric grazed Catherine’s bare arm and tickled her, making the on-edge girl jerk suddenly and then curl up in a fetal position. It’s just the silk sheets, she thought. I’m so paranoid. But, I shouldn’t worry now. I’m safe hiding in this wagon. All I have to do is keep quiet and still and I won’t be noticed.
Then Catherine heard the owner outside, stepping aboard the wagon and sitting behind the reins.
“Giddy-up!” he said, and the horse trotted.
Where the silk merchant was headed, Catherine did not know. Just as long as she could avoid the inquisition. She peeked out from under the silk cover, looking out the back of the wagon at the life she was leaving behind: her family who loathed the idea of having to let go of their precious Catherine and allow her to run away for her safety; the friends she had grown up with who swore that they would never reveal any knowledge of her to the crusaders.
All the happiest memories she cherished came from that retreating small village in the wagon’s rear view that was her hometown. Catherine brought her head back under the cover and rested it; she was exhausted from all her running and dodging that day, and the beautiful girl fell sound asleep.
Several miles later...
The wagon came to an abrupt stop and the young stowaway was startled awake. She was confused at first, but then Catherine tried to stay as calm and quiet as she could so as to not draw attention to herself by causing any suspicion. She heard what sounded like horses approaching. Oh no, the crusaders, she thought. A chill ran up her spine entertaining the idea, and then the horses stopped in front of the wagon.
“We are the Knights of the Grand Inquisitor.” said a man in a deep, unsettling voice and Catherine’s heart pounded. “We have orders to arrest a woman indicted for sorcery named Catherine Bell. Do you know of her whereabouts?”
“No, sir. I’m just a humble vendor on my way to the next town.” said the merchant.
“We will search your wagon.”
Catherine’s body trembled like an earthquake, her breaths short, rapid, and out of control; she knew she would be discovered for sure. Two of the knights dismounted from their horses and began sorting through the material. All she could think about was being spread-eagle and shackled in that dark, eerie dungeon of Ticklemada as every inch of her ticklish body was exploited mercilessly.
Sure enough, one of the knights stumbled upon a lump in the pile of silk, and heard a woman scream. He lifted up the sheet and saw the terrified beauty laying under it, wide-eyed and breathing heavily. “It’s Catherine Bell!” he shouted. The poor girl screamed even more when the two men tried to scoop her up out of the wagon. Catherine kicked and fought as the silk merchant looked on in dismay. “NO! DON’T DO THIS TO ME! I’M NOT A WITCH, I SWEAR! NO! LET GO OF ME!” She yelled and continued to thrash about as the hooded crusaders dragged her out of the peddler’s wagon and took her away.
***
It was just as she had imagined. Catherine was now in the cold, dark, pitiless abyss that was commonly referred to as Ticklemada’s Dungeon. She had been stripped of her garments and had been shackled spread-eagle to an X-Frame. Standing before her was the dreaded Grand Inquisitor poised authoritatively in front the lass with a scroll of the unjust charges against her.
“YOU WILL CONFESS TO YOUR SORCERY, CATHERINE BELL, OR YOU SHALL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!” declared Ticklemada in a chilling, resonant tone.
Catherine yanked on her chains and almost began to sob. “NO! PLEASE! DON’T TICKLE ME! I’M JUST SO VERY TICKLISH! YOU MUST BELIEVE ME, SIR. I KNOW NOT THE WAY OF SORCERY OR WITCHCRAFT! I AM INNOCENT!”
“VERY WELL, IF YOU INSIST ON STATING LIES THEN YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED FOR YOUR OBSTINACY!”
With that said, Ticklemada gestured for the two hooded guards standing on his right to approach the young woman. Catherine screamed in ticklish anticipation as the daunting figures took positions on both sides of the captive brunette. Then with delicate execution they began tickling Catherine in her ribs with their unwelcome fingers.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she roared, with a hard belly laugh. “NO! HAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! *gasp* NO! PLEASE! HEEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“JUST CONFESS THAT YOU ARE A WITCH, CATHERINE BELL, AND YOU SHALL BE GRANTED MERCY!” said Ticklemada.
“I HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAVE NOTHING TO HAHAHAHAHAHA *gasp* CONFESS AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEGH!”
Then the Grand Inquisitor ordered the guards to intensify their tickling assault on poor Catherine by tormenting her vulnerable tummy; this spot was extremely ticklish for the girl as the two sentinels squeezed and jiggled the tender flesh.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *gasp* EEEEEEEEEEK! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! EEEEEEEK! OH! NO MORE! AAAAAAAGH! NO! OH! OH! HEEHEE! EEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEHHH!”
It was quite a sight for Ticklemada to see, watching the very, very ticklish Catherine Bell twisting and collapsing on the X-Frame, trying to avoid the merciless fingers of the two guards. But the Grand Inquisitor knew how to pace the action; he knew just how long to let the tickling go on before he commanded the guards to stop.
Then Ticklemada ordered the two men to cease with the tickling; Catherine sighed with fatigue and collapsed in her manacles. A few moments had passed before the inquiry resumed.
“REPENT OF YOUR WITCHCRAFT, CATHERINE BELL, AND SPARE YOURSELF FURTHER TICKLE TORTURE!” proclaimed the Inquisitor.
The drained woman replied wearily, “You don’t understand. I’m just a mortal human being. You must believe me, sir. This is injustice.”
“NONSENSE! SUCH IRRESISTIBLE BEAUTY AS YOURS CAN ONLY BE THE ARCHITECTURE OF WITCHERY!”
“I’m not a witch...I’m not a witch...I’m not a witch...” she chanted in a weakened voice.
“VERY WELL, HAVE IT YOUR WAY, YOU STUBBORN WITCH YOU!” Then Ticklemada gestured for the guard who was standing to his left to approach Catherine. In the guard’s left hand was a small bucket of ice. He removed one cube from the bucket and began gliding it along Catherine’s right breast, starting around the nipple.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OOH! OOH! OOH!” she shrieked.
Ever so slowly, the ice cube made its slippery wander all over the firm, youthful mound of Catherine’s supple breast, making figure 8s like an Olympic skater, and driving the poor girl absolutely mad.
“AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHH! *gasp* OOH! AHH! I CAN’T STAND IT! PLEASE, STOP IT! AAAAAAAAAAAARRRGH!”
The Grand Inquisitor then instructed the two other guards who were still positioned on both sides of the pretty prisoner’s nude form to resume their tickling assault on the head-strong vixen. They both pulled out these long, fine turkey feathers from behind them. They then used them to stroke the exposed, sensitive dimensions of her sex, and reintroduced their agile fingers to Catherine’s hyper ticklish tummy.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! EEEEEEEEEK! HAHAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *hiccup* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *moan* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEK *moan* EEEEEEEK *gasp* OOOOOOH!”
The conflicting sensations of undeniable pleasure below her waist and the maddening tickling on her tummy nearly drove Catherine to the brink of insanity. Not to mention the ice-tickling that continued to arouse her nipples, making them rock hard as a fresh cube slipped under both breasts and back up again in a back and forth arc motion.
“ *moan* EEEEEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OOOOOOH! *gasp* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! *moan* HEEHEEHEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEK! *moan* AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHH! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEE! AAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *gasp* YOU’RE KILLING ME *gasp* I CAN’T TAKE IT! *gasp* HEEHEE! AAAAAAAAARGH!”
The Grand Inquisitor was sure the girl would soon break as the stiff turkey feathers exquisitely brushed over Catherine’s most intimate of areas with the finesse of a master painter. But the ruthless tummy tickling administered by the two nameless guards was more than she could bear. She subsided into a fit of silent laughter and passed out; she was left shackled on the X-Frame while Ticklemada planned a new strategy of extracting a confession from the ticklish beauty.
THE END
Starring in
“Ticklemada’s Dungeon 2”
(A ticklish celebrity fiction request)
In the dark and terrible days of the Inquisition, the infamous Ticklemada continues his avid pursuit of beautiful young women accused of sorcery. Catherine Bell was a woman on the run. They said that such stunning beauty like hers can only be the fruit of witchcraft. A beauty that no man could resist. A beauty that could cause a man to give up all his worldly possessions just to be enchanted by her loveliness.
Catherine knew not what she did that was so wrong, but she knew she had to run. She had heard the stories before, how the knights of the Grand Inquisitor would descend upon the home of one of those poor girls. They would literally tear them out of their crying mothers arms, dragging them away kicking and screaming to that notorious dungeon.
The young woman hid inside the wagon of a silk merchant along the outskirts of the city. She was out of breath and panting; she tried to still her beating heart, but she was just so frightened. Catherine obsessed on what would happen to her if she were ever caught. Being tickled was her greatest fear. And then there were those other stories, the ones about the defiant women who would fight their ticklishness and resist the torture.
But not she. Catherine Bell was much too ticklish. Just someone wriggling their fingers at her was enough to make her burst into a fit of giggles. Oh my god, she thought, what if they find me? I just couldn’t bare the torture of being tickled in that dungeon. Oh god, what if they tickle my breasts with a feather? I’ll go mad. And what if they tickle my ribs with their devious fingers? I’ll scream. I know I’ll scream. Oh why will they not believe me when I say I’m not a witch.
Right then, a shallow gust of wind blew through the modest wagon, causing the sheets of silk to shift a little; the soft fabric grazed Catherine’s bare arm and tickled her, making the on-edge girl jerk suddenly and then curl up in a fetal position. It’s just the silk sheets, she thought. I’m so paranoid. But, I shouldn’t worry now. I’m safe hiding in this wagon. All I have to do is keep quiet and still and I won’t be noticed.
Then Catherine heard the owner outside, stepping aboard the wagon and sitting behind the reins.
“Giddy-up!” he said, and the horse trotted.
Where the silk merchant was headed, Catherine did not know. Just as long as she could avoid the inquisition. She peeked out from under the silk cover, looking out the back of the wagon at the life she was leaving behind: her family who loathed the idea of having to let go of their precious Catherine and allow her to run away for her safety; the friends she had grown up with who swore that they would never reveal any knowledge of her to the crusaders.
All the happiest memories she cherished came from that retreating small village in the wagon’s rear view that was her hometown. Catherine brought her head back under the cover and rested it; she was exhausted from all her running and dodging that day, and the beautiful girl fell sound asleep.
Several miles later...
The wagon came to an abrupt stop and the young stowaway was startled awake. She was confused at first, but then Catherine tried to stay as calm and quiet as she could so as to not draw attention to herself by causing any suspicion. She heard what sounded like horses approaching. Oh no, the crusaders, she thought. A chill ran up her spine entertaining the idea, and then the horses stopped in front of the wagon.
“We are the Knights of the Grand Inquisitor.” said a man in a deep, unsettling voice and Catherine’s heart pounded. “We have orders to arrest a woman indicted for sorcery named Catherine Bell. Do you know of her whereabouts?”
“No, sir. I’m just a humble vendor on my way to the next town.” said the merchant.
“We will search your wagon.”
Catherine’s body trembled like an earthquake, her breaths short, rapid, and out of control; she knew she would be discovered for sure. Two of the knights dismounted from their horses and began sorting through the material. All she could think about was being spread-eagle and shackled in that dark, eerie dungeon of Ticklemada as every inch of her ticklish body was exploited mercilessly.
Sure enough, one of the knights stumbled upon a lump in the pile of silk, and heard a woman scream. He lifted up the sheet and saw the terrified beauty laying under it, wide-eyed and breathing heavily. “It’s Catherine Bell!” he shouted. The poor girl screamed even more when the two men tried to scoop her up out of the wagon. Catherine kicked and fought as the silk merchant looked on in dismay. “NO! DON’T DO THIS TO ME! I’M NOT A WITCH, I SWEAR! NO! LET GO OF ME!” She yelled and continued to thrash about as the hooded crusaders dragged her out of the peddler’s wagon and took her away.
***
It was just as she had imagined. Catherine was now in the cold, dark, pitiless abyss that was commonly referred to as Ticklemada’s Dungeon. She had been stripped of her garments and had been shackled spread-eagle to an X-Frame. Standing before her was the dreaded Grand Inquisitor poised authoritatively in front the lass with a scroll of the unjust charges against her.
“YOU WILL CONFESS TO YOUR SORCERY, CATHERINE BELL, OR YOU SHALL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!” declared Ticklemada in a chilling, resonant tone.
Catherine yanked on her chains and almost began to sob. “NO! PLEASE! DON’T TICKLE ME! I’M JUST SO VERY TICKLISH! YOU MUST BELIEVE ME, SIR. I KNOW NOT THE WAY OF SORCERY OR WITCHCRAFT! I AM INNOCENT!”
“VERY WELL, IF YOU INSIST ON STATING LIES THEN YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED FOR YOUR OBSTINACY!”
With that said, Ticklemada gestured for the two hooded guards standing on his right to approach the young woman. Catherine screamed in ticklish anticipation as the daunting figures took positions on both sides of the captive brunette. Then with delicate execution they began tickling Catherine in her ribs with their unwelcome fingers.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she roared, with a hard belly laugh. “NO! HAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! *gasp* NO! PLEASE! HEEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“JUST CONFESS THAT YOU ARE A WITCH, CATHERINE BELL, AND YOU SHALL BE GRANTED MERCY!” said Ticklemada.
“I HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAVE NOTHING TO HAHAHAHAHAHA *gasp* CONFESS AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEGH!”
Then the Grand Inquisitor ordered the guards to intensify their tickling assault on poor Catherine by tormenting her vulnerable tummy; this spot was extremely ticklish for the girl as the two sentinels squeezed and jiggled the tender flesh.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *gasp* EEEEEEEEEEK! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! EEEEEEEK! OH! NO MORE! AAAAAAAGH! NO! OH! OH! HEEHEE! EEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEHHH!”
It was quite a sight for Ticklemada to see, watching the very, very ticklish Catherine Bell twisting and collapsing on the X-Frame, trying to avoid the merciless fingers of the two guards. But the Grand Inquisitor knew how to pace the action; he knew just how long to let the tickling go on before he commanded the guards to stop.
Then Ticklemada ordered the two men to cease with the tickling; Catherine sighed with fatigue and collapsed in her manacles. A few moments had passed before the inquiry resumed.
“REPENT OF YOUR WITCHCRAFT, CATHERINE BELL, AND SPARE YOURSELF FURTHER TICKLE TORTURE!” proclaimed the Inquisitor.
The drained woman replied wearily, “You don’t understand. I’m just a mortal human being. You must believe me, sir. This is injustice.”
“NONSENSE! SUCH IRRESISTIBLE BEAUTY AS YOURS CAN ONLY BE THE ARCHITECTURE OF WITCHERY!”
“I’m not a witch...I’m not a witch...I’m not a witch...” she chanted in a weakened voice.
“VERY WELL, HAVE IT YOUR WAY, YOU STUBBORN WITCH YOU!” Then Ticklemada gestured for the guard who was standing to his left to approach Catherine. In the guard’s left hand was a small bucket of ice. He removed one cube from the bucket and began gliding it along Catherine’s right breast, starting around the nipple.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OOH! OOH! OOH!” she shrieked.
Ever so slowly, the ice cube made its slippery wander all over the firm, youthful mound of Catherine’s supple breast, making figure 8s like an Olympic skater, and driving the poor girl absolutely mad.
“AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHH! *gasp* OOH! AHH! I CAN’T STAND IT! PLEASE, STOP IT! AAAAAAAAAAAARRRGH!”
The Grand Inquisitor then instructed the two other guards who were still positioned on both sides of the pretty prisoner’s nude form to resume their tickling assault on the head-strong vixen. They both pulled out these long, fine turkey feathers from behind them. They then used them to stroke the exposed, sensitive dimensions of her sex, and reintroduced their agile fingers to Catherine’s hyper ticklish tummy.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! EEEEEEEEEK! HAHAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *hiccup* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *moan* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEK *moan* EEEEEEEK *gasp* OOOOOOH!”
The conflicting sensations of undeniable pleasure below her waist and the maddening tickling on her tummy nearly drove Catherine to the brink of insanity. Not to mention the ice-tickling that continued to arouse her nipples, making them rock hard as a fresh cube slipped under both breasts and back up again in a back and forth arc motion.
“ *moan* EEEEEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OOOOOOH! *gasp* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! *moan* HEEHEEHEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEK! *moan* AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHH! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEE! AAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *gasp* YOU’RE KILLING ME *gasp* I CAN’T TAKE IT! *gasp* HEEHEE! AAAAAAAAARGH!”
The Grand Inquisitor was sure the girl would soon break as the stiff turkey feathers exquisitely brushed over Catherine’s most intimate of areas with the finesse of a master painter. But the ruthless tummy tickling administered by the two nameless guards was more than she could bear. She subsided into a fit of silent laughter and passed out; she was left shackled on the X-Frame while Ticklemada planned a new strategy of extracting a confession from the ticklish beauty.
THE END
