Mastertank1
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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The Duke And The Market Girl
A Hysterical Historical
By Mastertank1
Author’s note; the character of Jennifra the market girl is based on Ticklejen of the TMF. The character of Duke Mikhail is a highly idealized version of me.
The year was 1770. Mikhail Abramovitch Gelinkta had inherited the Barony of Gleiwitz, both the title and the town, from his late father. Due to his outstanding successes in conquering dangerous Tartar tribes and their lands for the Czarina Catherine the Great, he had been created Duke of Kharkov.
This was a truly long step upward for Mikhail. Before, he was ruling a town of just over 4,000 inhabitants, in the part of Poland which was Russian territory this year, but might belong to Prussia or Austria the next, and therefore be lost to him. Now, he owned a fortified city of more than 60,000, with lands around it to a distance of 60 to 150 miles.
The extent of Mikhail’s fortune had been multiplied by well over 500 times, and he was deliriously happy. He had only moved into his new Ducal palace three weeks ago. He had finally completed his redecoration yesterday. He was now taking his very first ride around his new city, his new home.
Mikhail was a very large, very imposing man by the standards of his time and place. Even the upper nobility, well fed fighting men for tens of generations, seldom reached his 6’2” in height in 1778.
The massive breadth of his shoulders, the vast depth of his chest, the legs like the pillars of a cathedral were partly hereditary and partly due to stunningly hard work. Mikhail had worked long and hard to master all the weapons used by his troops, both the foot and the horse. He had even learned the arcana of the artillerists and the military engineers.
All of this labor and study had made him immensely stronger than his peers, both physically and mentally. At age 40, he was straight, hale and powerful. His aristocratic deep black hair, beard and moustache fairly bristled with vitality and virility. Women found him both handsome and sexy, and he knew he could have virtually any unmarried noblewoman in Russia as his wife.
He also knew that the choice of wife would be dictated by financial, dynastic and political considerations. He knew he would probably have to marry someone he neither liked nor found physically attractive. Before getting married, he intended to find a mistress.
He would seek out beautiful commoners and take them, one at a time, back to his palace/fortress. They would spend an evening in his company and a night in his bed. If they proved to be good company out of bed as well as in bed, they would be made note of and asked back for a second round of ‘auditions’.
The second round would consist of a weekend spent with each woman. After each had her chance to make an impression, he would narrow the field further.
The third round would involve a full week spent with each woman, and so he would proceed.
Eventually, Mikhail planned to choose one long term mistress and install her permanently in highly luxurious quarters near his own. He intended that this mistress would be firmly entrenched in the household before he ever selected a politically expedient wife. He also firmly intended that the wife would never supplant the mistress, either in his heart or in control and authority within his home.
Today, Mikhail was not out looking for a mistress candidate. He was taking his first ever tour of the marketplaces in his new city, getting a feel for what sort of goods and goodies he might expect to find locally without having to import them at extra cost.
So far, Mikhail’s expedition had been fruitful. He had located purveyors in the various markets around town who regularly carried most of his favorite delicacies in terms of food and drink.
In the Cossack Market, he had found a weapon smith whose quality and variety of goods met his needs. In the Thieves Market he had found a seller of brassware and bric-a-brac. In the Tartar Market he had located a rug seller.
Now, as the sun neared the western horizon and it’s slanting rays gave a red-golden cast to everything, Mikhail planned to finish his tour in the Jewish Market. Here he hoped to find a calligrapher, a bookseller, and a fine tobacconist. He had heard rumors of all three.
He had not heard anything about a physician, an attorney, an herbalist or an apothecary. Mikhail knew, however, that the Jewish Market was probably where the best of each were to be found.
Mikhail had already located his calligrapher, bookseller, doctor, lawyer and pharmacist. He had just sighted the tobacconist he had been told of, and was pleased to note the presence of a very clean and prosperous looking herbalist’s shop right next door. Then, looking at the herbalist’s sidewalk display, he saw Jennifra.
Jennifra was the eldest daughter of the herb seller. A childless widow at 34, the mourning period for her late husband was about to end. She was quite nervous about it.
Her father had told her this morning, with a look of deep satisfaction on his face, that practically every eligible widower in the Jewish community of the city had already expressed an interest in marrying her. So had a number of eligible bachelors, including some who were several years younger than she was.
Jennifra was the great beauty of her generation of the Jewish community in the city of Kharkov. In addition to having a face of stunning beauty, her 5’3” frame was abundantly feminine and deliciously sexy. Large breasts, wide but not fat hips, softly rounded belly, enticing rump, all added to her outstanding attractiveness.
From the intersection where Mikhail sat his peacetime steed, his eye was caught when the wind pressed Jennifra’s loose skirt against her sturdy, excitingly shapely legs. She had momentarily slipped her shoes off and climbed onto a box, where she stood on tiptoes craning to see over the heads of the crowd to discern what disturbance might be causing a spreading commotion two streets down.
Following down the lovely curves of her legs, Mikhail’s attention was again arrested by the sight of her shapely, wide, high arched bare feet with their pretty, round, short stemmed toes. Mikhail licked his lips. When he looked up her person he finally noticed her beautiful, wide oval face and her shoulder length, healthily glossy hair of a lustrous dark brown.
When he noticed the sweet curves of Jennifra’s lips, Mikhail licked his own again. He was imagining just how delicious those lips might taste under his own.
Then Mikhail’s ears caught the sound of a rapidly approaching fight. That was what Jennifra was looking at. She was growing alarmed as the fight moved in the direction of her father’s shop.
Mikhail stepped behind the table holding her father’s wares. She stifled her objection when she recognized the well favored face of the new, young Duke of Kharkov.
Grasping her by the waist, Mikhail effortlessly lifted her solidly feminine weight down from the box, casually slipping her bare feet back into her shoes, before stepping up onto the solid wood of the box himself. As his fingers slid from her waist, Jennifra gave out a squeak and a giggle. She could swear that the Duke had deliberately tickled her! She also felt sure he had smiled when he realized that she was ticklish, and she was embarrassed by that.
From atop the box, Mikhail could see that the problem was a dozen drunken rivermen. They were roistering through the Jewish market, taking by force anything that caught their eye.
Tossing the reins of his horse to Jennifra’s father, who had come out of the shop to see what the noise was about, Mikhail moved towards the drunks, signaling his four guards to follow. Flipping his hood up around his head, he moved to stand in the rivermen’s path.
When the first to reach him tried to bull past, Mikhail placed the palm of his left hand over the center of the man’s chest and shoved, cannoning him back into his fellows, who caught him and stopped him from falling. In a voice like distant thunder, Mikhail rumbled; “Drop your weapons and submit to arrest. You are breaking the Duke’s peace and flouting the Duke’s justice.”
“These are just Jews. The Duke’s justice cares nothing for such as these!”
“The Duke’s justice protects ALL the Duke’s subjects, you presumptuous scum!”
“Who the hell are you to speak for the Duke’s justice?”
Flipping his hood down, Mikhail bellowed in a voice that was heard across half of the city; “I AM THE DUKE’S JUSTICE!!!!”
Mikhail’s four guardsmen stood forth, two behind each of his massive shoulders. All five men dropped their cloaks and drew their sabers. The leader of the rivermen shouldered his way to the front and faced Mikhail.
“We have you outnumbered fifteen to five!”
“Soldiers are never outnumbered by rabble. And merely by stating that, you have forfeit your own life and the lives of any of your men who stand with you against me.”
“Am I to believe that a Christian Duke would slay Christian sailors for despoiling Jews?”
“When you pointed out the numbers against me, that was a threat. Believe that I will slay ANY men who dare to threaten me as their lawful liege.”
The rivermen went for their weapons, a motley collection of swords and daggers. Before he had a chance to raise his Tulwar, the leader of the rivermen had been sliced into four parts. A single blow from Mikhail’s mighty saber severed both arms above the elbow and the trunk just below the armpits.
The other fourteen rivermen surrendered to Mikhail’s guardsmen, who summoned the city watch to take them into custody. The charge was treason in threatening the life of their Duke. They were all dead men.
Mikhail reclaimed his horse from Jennifra’s father. He mounted, and sat gazing lustfully down at the Jewish beauty. He said to the herbalist; “Is this woman your daughter?”
“Yes Sire, she is. And the light of my life.”
“Is she wedded?”
“A widow, my Lord, an it please thee.”
“It pleases me greatly.” Said Mikhail. He reached down to grasp Jennifra around the waist and placed her across his saddle. “If she pleases me not, she’ll be returned to you unharmed on the morrow, but dressed far more richly. If she pleases me well, she may become resident in some of the finest quarters in my palace. We shall see.”
Mikhail settled Jennifra in a sidesaddle position across the saddle in front of himself. Examining her face at close range, she was more beautiful than ever. His hot brown eyes gazed into her frightened ones from only a few inches distance. He told her she had nothing to fear, that he would neither hurt her nor allow harm to come to her.
There was something in the tone of his voice, the devastatingly sexy smile on his handsome face, the firm, gentle strength of his grasp upon her person, that somehow reassured her. She believed what he said and began to relax.
The guards at the palace gates recognized their lord, and swung the gates wide. Mikhail pulled his horse to a stop in front of the main steps. Tossing the reins to a groom, he swept Jennifra up in his left arm and vaulted from the saddle to the top step, still holding her safe. He placed her on her feet, and, with his arm still around her waist, ushered her into his home.
The redecoration had clearly taken place without any touch of a woman’s taste or sensibility. It was almost overpoweringly masculine.
Massive, simple, unadorned furniture, meticulously crafted from the finest dark woods. Solid color or two tone carpets in deep earth shades. Single figure portrait style sculptures. Equestrian portraits of male ancestors, interspersed with paintings of battle scenes. Weapons and trophies of war and the hunt everywhere. Dark hardwood wainscoting below cream colored walls.
Mikhail walked Jennifra to the foot of a wide, curving staircase leading up to the second floor. He handed his cloak to a liveried butler and said; “Have Tainelga meet me in my antechamber.”
Ushering Jennifra up the stairs Mikhail asked her name, and her age, and other facts about her and her family. The second floor hallway was slightly lighter in tones than the ground floor, by what she could see, but still very male.
The antechamber was a little less overwhelming, lightened by portraits of female ancestors, some very beautiful. All the paintings had something in common.
In defiance of long standing convention regarding portraits of aristocratic women, all the women’s shoulders were covered, and all of their feet were bare. Further, they were all seated or reclining in postures which revealed part or all of the bottoms of their feet.
Mikhail poured himself a goblet of wine and offered one to Jennifra, who accepted. Neither she nor her father had offered any resistance to Mikhail’s seizure of her person.
Even if they had been Christian, a commoner in that time and place had no rights against a Duke, or none that anyone would defend or enforce. Under the laws then, Jews like Jennifra’s family had even fewer rights than Christians. The idea of resisting had never even crossed their minds; it would have amounted to suicide.
They spoke pleasantly together for a few minutes longer. Jennifra was surprised that Mikhail seemed to be genuinely interested in her as a person. Then Tainelga entered the room.
Tainelga was a Tartar woman in her late forties, and the housemistress of the women’s wing of Mikhail’s palace. Except for the servants she ruled with an iron hand, that wing was yet empty. Mikhail issued instructions; “Tainelga, this is Jennifra, a Jewess from the market square in the Kharkov Ghetto. She is a serious candidate for Chief Concubine. Take her to the women’s wing, have her bathed and clothed to be my companion at dinner tonight. There will be no guests from outside the household, so nothing too elaborate. My chief steward and chief armsman will dine with me, with their ladies.”
Tainelga hustled Jennifra off down the second floor corridor. They passed through a doubly guarded set of double doors. The outside of the doors was guarded by a pair of huge troopers with sabers, daggers and a pair of pistols each. Inside the doors stood a pair of huge, muscular women, similarly armed. The women looked just as grimly competent as the men, and seemed even tougher.
Beyond the guarded doors were a series of opulent rooms, decorated in what was clearly a man’s idea of what women’s quarters should look like. Within were a full dozen female servants. None were ugly, but none were beautiful. Clearly, they had been hired for ability, not looks.
Tainelga began giving orders; “Bath first.”
The servants swarmed around Jennifra, removing her work clothes and taking them away, while moving her through two more rooms to a large chamber in which most of the floor was taken up by a heated pool. The air was scented faintly with some aromatic oil floating on top of the warmed water.
Enthusiastically disrobing themselves, half of them hustled her down the wide, shallow stairs leading into the pool. They seated her on a submerged, shaped stone stool and began washing her with fine soap, not forgetting her hair, and then rinsed her off with scented water.
After soaping and rinsing her hair for a second time, they brought Jennifra back out of the water. There, the other six servants were waiting with soft drying cloths and scented powders. They also had other things with them.
They placed Jennifra on a waist high couch to receive their ministrations. When they were done, she had been very thoroughly depilated, with not a hair remaining on her legs or arms or under her arms.
Throughout the process of washing, drying and depilating various of the serving women had kept sneaking in little tickles here and there. Tainelga had been carefully noting Jennifra’s reactions to the tickles, all of which had been planned, and now went off to report to Mikhail while Jennifra was given a light snack and then taken to a bedchamber to rest.
Later, well after sundown, they garbed Jennifra in ‘everyday’ clothing for the mistress of a Duke. This ‘everyday’ garb was finer than anything Jennifra had ever owned. It consisted of stockings, shoes, a dress, a robe, a tiara, a necklace, a brooch and some rings.
They were not of the best. The stones were semi-precious. The gold was only 10 carat. The fabrics were not silk or satin or lace, but they were of the finest grades of cotton and linen. The shoes were not kid or calf, but they were of dyed suede.
The underwear, the dress, the robe, the shoes, the brooch, the necklace, the tiara and each of two rings were each on it’s own worth more than Jennifra’s family herb shop earned in a year. Some of the items were worth ten times that.
She had never worn anything so fine. It made her nervous, and a little afraid. Then Mikhail came to the door of the robing chamber to escort her to dinner.
He held out his bent arm. Despite being flustered for a moment, Jennifra quickly recovered and laid her hand along his forearm. The feel of the immense muscles under the fine broadcloth thrilled her. From the corner of his eye, Mikhail saw her reaction and smiled.
He spoke to her of things she knew, such as the uses of varied herbs, both in cooking and medicine. Jennifra was absorbed in the conversation. When they swept through the door of the dining hall, she didn’t even notice that they had entered the full view of the dinner guests and servants.
They arrived at the table and Mikhail was seating Jennifra before it occurred to her that they had already made the entrance she had been worried about. As Mikhail took his seat by her side, she flashed him a swift look of gratitude. She understood that he had deliberately distracted her to get her past her nervousness. Mikhail smiled back.
The dinner was rich, so Jennifra was careful not to overindulge. She tasted everything, but consumed only moderate amounts, both of the food and the drink. Mikhail noticed this, as he was noticing everything about her.
The conversation was somewhat technical. Mikhail was asking his chief armsman about the state of his private army, and asking the chief steward about the state of the productive farms and estates that were part of the duchy of Kharkov.
Because of her local knowledge, Jennifra was able to offer intelligent questions and comments regarding the agricultural productivity. She listened carefully to the military talk, but wisely kept her mouth shut on matters she knew nothing about. Mikhail noted both of these responses, and approved of both. She was impressing him very favorably so far.
Then dinner ended. Mikhail exchanged forearm clasps with his men, kissed the hands of their ladies, and then he and Jennifra were alone. He conducted her back to the antechamber outside his bedroom, and seated her on a couch facing the fire in the fireplace. He sat down beside her, and began to talk.
The conversed about everything and nothing while the meal they had eaten digested. Mikhail was guaging her intelligence and articulateness. He was increasingly pleased with her.
As the fire burned down, Mikhail slipped his arm around Jennifra’s shoulders, and she snuggled up to his side as naturally as though they had done this for years. She was no longer self conscious with him at all when he leaned over and kissed her lips, easily and naturally.
After a few seconds of passive acceptance, she began to kiss back. The kiss lasted several minutes. When they broke and leaned back, they were smiling at each other.
Taking her by both hands, Mikhail lifted Jennifra up off the couch and led her through the doors into his bedchamber. There she saw a side table and a strange looking couch-armchair halfway from the door to the bed.
The item of furniture was like nothing Jennifra had ever seen. It looked like a half-circle armchair with the seat extended like a long, fat tongue. It was upholstered in thick, dark red plush with heavy absorbent padding. There were upstanding wooden knobs at six points along the half circle of the armchair part of the device, and two more on either side at the far end of the extended tongue. A thick, soft velvet rope dangled from each knob.
The side table was covered with a thick red velvet cloth, and had three drawers in the side facing the chair/couch. On top of the table sat a lovely jewelry box of polished hardwood, inlaid with Jennifra’s first name in gold.
Mikhail smiled and opened the box. The inside was lined in black velvet, and divided into empty compartments. He took the Tiara from Jennifra’s lustrous brown hair and placed it in the box.
Gently pulling Jennifra towards him, Mikhail slowly disrobed her. As each item of jewelry was removed, it went into its place in the box. The robe was draped over a clothes press.
Mikhail unfastened her dress and removed it, draping it over the robe. He caressed her shoulders and arms. He lifted her hands one by one and kissed the palms, tickling each with a wiggle of his tongue. She giggled each time, and he kissed her giggling mouth.
Mikhail lifted Jennifra’s undergown off of her, adding it to the pile on the press. He took off her corset, which had not needed to be tight at all to give her an attractive figure. He dropped her underpants to the floor where she stepped out of them. He caressed her sides, her belly, her buttocks, her breasts, her thighs.
She was becoming intensely aroused.
Jennifra was now wearing only her stockings and shoes. Mikhail began shedding his own clothing. Jennifra helped with growing enthusiasm as she saw the true mountain of muscle and sinew that was her now soon to be lover. The more she became aware of his immense strength, the more his continuing gentleness as he touched her impressed and thrilled her.
Mikhail lifted her in his arms, cradled her against his chest and whispered in Jennifra’s ear; “Come to the tickling couch.”
Tickling! Her heartbeat quickened. Jennifra had heard about this odd custom of the nobility. She had heard that in Moscow high ranking women hired professional ticklers to prepare them to show passionate desire to an unattractive lover.
Now, the most attractive, sexy man she had ever seen was about to tickle her in order to increase her already burning desire. She knew his intent was to increase their mutual pleasure, and the thought thrilled her immensely.
Mikhail began by placing her face down on the tongue of the couch. Jennifra was surprised, but made no objection when he used the velvet ropes to fasten her wrists to the bottoms of the legs at the end of the couch’s tongue. He then bent each of her legs at the knee, and used two more of the velvet ropes to attach her ankles to the knobs on the ends of the chairarms at the chair end of the couch.
Mikhail began tickling Jennifra, slowly, sensually. His fingertips just barely grazed her skin, teasing her shoulders, her back, her neck. When he tickled the back and sides of her neck she faintly giggled. When he teasingly ran fingertips up and down her spine she shivered with delicious chills. Mostly, she just made little MMMM mmmm sounds of pleasure.
Mikhail began tickling Jennifra’s buttocks and the backs of her thighs above her stockings. She loved how that felt. She began softly moaning and her hips began to undulate. Both of the lovers were smiling. They both knew how much he was turning her on.
Mikhail wanted to hear more of Jennifra’s sweet giggles. He started to tickle the backs of her knees, through the stockings. As if obeying a spoken command, she at once started giggling. He liked the sound, and kept this up for several minutes.
Abruptly, Mikhail stood up. He walked down to the end of the couch and dropped into a cross legged seat on the floor, his face only inches from hers.
With a gentle touch of his right index finger, he raised her face so he could kiss her generous mouth. She kissed back enthusiastically.
Then Mikhail started to tickle Jennifra under chin. This made her giggle wildly, much more loudly than before. For the first she started to pull on her bonds. She was doing that involuntarily. Actually, she was glad they were there. Escape was the last thing she wanted right now.
When Mikhail kissed Jennifra while he kept tickling her under the chin, her state of arousal soared. He continued to kiss her and tease her. When he lickled her ears, one by one, she nearly jumped out of her skin, but she loved it. It made her feel so wonderfully out of control!
Mikhail leaned back and smiled at Jennifra while she got her breath back under control. She was smiling back. Mikhail told her; “I love the sound of your giggles. Now, I wish to hear you laugh.”
As soon as she heard that she began to breathe faster. Mikhail reached past Jennifra’s head on both sides and he started to tickle her sides. At once, she was laughing out loud. This really tickled, and she had no choice but to laugh.
As Mikhail’s big hands lazily wandered up and down the soft, exquisitely feminine curves of her sides, Jennifra couldn’t stop laughing. Her body was out of control. She could not stop her wiggling and wriggling any more than she could control her laughter. The oddest thing was that she really enjoyed it.
When Mikhail leaned forward to stifle her laughter by kissing her again, Jennifra found her arousal and pleasure increasing again. He was driving her wild, in ways that were purely good.
Then Mikhail’s hands moved from her sides to her armpits. That took her by surprise and seemed to tickle much more. Jennifra’s body was sudden thrashing about wildly in her bonds, her laughter growing to a series of loud gusts of merriment. Then he was kissing her mouth again. Oh, this was making her hot!
After several minutes of this treatment, Mikhail broke off to let Jennifra regain her breath. He grabbed a pair of goose quills from his writing desk as he moved to the chair end of the couch. Lightly vaulting over the chair back, he plopped down crosslegged again, with his back leaning against the curved rear rest.
Jennifra craned her neck, trying to see where Mikhail was, and what he might be preparing to do. He asked her if she was having fun, and she answered that she was. He smiled again, and he started to tickle her stockinged feet with his fingertips.
Startled, Jennifra laughed loud, long and hard. She expelled every atom of air in her lungs, gasped them full in an instant, and resumed wildly, helplessly laughing. Mikhail kept the delightfully squirming beauty laughing and writhing for several minutes, then stopped. He watched her torso expand and contract with her deep breathing. He marveled again at how lovely she was. Then he picked up the goose quills.
Mikhail started by tickling her beautiful ass, slow, looping strokes of the two feathers randomly covering every millimeter of those luscious globes. He was making Jennifra giggle and wiggle, her sweetly curved buttocks helplessly clenching and relaxing in the only motion they were capable of.
Next Mikhail tickled her tender inner thighs with the feathers. Even though Jennifra did not really want the sensations to end, she was struggling futilely, ever more desperately trying to bring her thighs together to protect the tender flesh. Mikhail blocked her efforts by pressing the balls of his feet and his toes against the insides of her knees.
Mikhail, glancing at Jennifra’s pussy, could see how aroused she was. That’s when he started to slowly, slowly tease her engorged and moist labia with the rounded tips of the feathers. She was shocked at how incredibly ticklish that felt!
Mikhail was enjoying the way Jennifra’s hips bucked and undulated in response to the feathers. He loved the way she kept laughing and laughing, unable to stop for an instant. He loved the growing wetness of her sex, evidence that he was exciting her more and more intensely. He loved the steadily deepening engorgement of her labia. When it seemed that her body’s mindless attempts to escape from the wicked teasing of the feathers had become absolutely frantic, he stopped.
Moving with incredible speed and delicacy for a man so huge, Mikhail unwrapped the ropes from Jennifra’s ankles, whipped off her stockings, jumped to the opposite end of the couch and unwrapped the ropes that held her wrists. Lifting her gently but swiftly, he reversed her position.
Jennifra’s back was against the chair back, her arms draped over the arms of the couch. Mikhail crossed her arms behind her head. Using the velvet ropes on the couch, he bound each wrist to the opposite elbow and then to a knob on the rim of the chair back.
Rubbing her calves and her thighs to make sure there were no cramps or knots, he bent both her legs up and back. With additional velvet ropes, Mikhail fastened each leg to a knob on the end of an arm of the chair back, setting the ropes just above her knees. Using two more of the ropes, he fastened Jennifra’s shapely ankles to the same knobs that held her wrists and elbows, but above them, out of reach of her fingers.
Jennifra was dazed by the speed of her change of position. Testing her new bonds, she quickly realized that she was more helpless than ever. The gentleness with which this immensely powerful man continued to touch her convinced her there was nothing to fear. Perversely, the more completely defenseless he made her, the safer she felt in his hands. Somehow, she just knew Mikhail would protect her and never hurt her.
She was quickly reminded that teasing and tickling were a whole different matter. Straddling the tongue of the couch, Mikhail had those maddening feathers in hand, and resumed softly tickling her pussy. Instantly, Jennifra was laughing and writhing in maddening ticklish delight again. She was screaming with laughter and joy.
Mikhail was eagerly watching Jennifra’s clitoris slowly poke its head out from under the small hood of skin that normally hid it. Once it was far enough out, he began to lightly, lightly stroke that exquisitely sensitive bud with the slightly rounded points of the feathers.
As those fiendish feathers teased her throbbing clit, Jennifra shrilled the wildest, least controlled laughter yet. Mikhail continued the wonderful torment for only a couple of minutes, then let her rest and gasp. Then he gave another couple of minutes, then another break. Then he repeated the cycle again, and again. He was deliberately building her need for release to levels she had never known.
Leaning back and gazing fondly at his willing victim, Mikhail asked; “Do you need to climax, my sweet one?”
“Oh, yes! You know I do! Please, please!”
Mikhail leaned forward to engulf Jennifra’s clit in his mouth while his hands slid up her body to tickle her ribs. Trying laugh from ticklishness and moan with pleasure at the same time, Jennifra’s body convulsed in happy confusion for several minutes, and then she exploded in joyful orgasm.
Mikhail remained in position, but stopped both the tickling and the cunnilingus. After letting the hormones race though her bloodstream to heighten her senses, he resumed both the tease and the tickle on Jennifra’s now hypersensitized flesh. Impossibly, both felt even more intense, and even better than before.
With a gentleness that Jennifra found incredible, and which touched her emotions as much as her body, he got her uncontrollably laughing again as he brought her to two, then three more orgasms. As Mikhail allowed her to regain her breath yet again after her fourth climax, they gazed at each other with deepening affection. She spoke to him; “Your turn, my lover, my Lord and my Master. Your turn for pleasure. I need to feel you inside of me, reaching completion and flooding me full with your pleasure.”
Behind her affectionate smile, Jennifra’s mind quietly boggled; “Did I actually SAY that out loud?” she thought. “Where did that come from? I’ve NEVER been so bold!”
Mikhail’s smile was expressive of pure delight; “Truly, my darling? You want to feel my climax inside of you?”
Jennifra silently nodded her head, then leaned it back to rest on her crossed arms and closed her eyes while her Mikhail gently entered her. The way that he filled her up pleased her more fully than anything else ever had. She could feel his sweet breath on her face, and she opened her eyes to see him grinning at her from inches away.
Jennifra started to grin back when she noticed Mikhail’s hands reaching up past her head. Then she felt all of his fingertips poised at the points where the stems of her toes grew out of her feet. Then she felt all of those fingertips start slowly grazing their way down over the balls of her feet.
Jennifra exploded into wild, raucous laughter, the wildest yet. Her attempts to pull her ticklish feet away from the truly unbearable ticklish sensations were monumental. As Mikhail’s fingers caressed their way down the balls of her feet, along the length of the flats of her soles, across the soft expanses of her heels to the bottom Jennifra was nearly hysterical. Then as they reversed direction and retraced their path to the starting point, her frantic tugs and pulls against the ropes caused her lovely hips to buck and undulate.
The tickling would not let Jennifra stop laughing. The movement of her body was creating the most incredible pleasure rushes she where Mikhail was inside her and where his groin rubbed on hers. It was driving her out of her mind, but she loved every instant of the intense sensations. Then she had the best orgasm yet, by far the best in her entire life.
Mikhail began tickling her toes. As they frantically wiggled Mikhail found himself growing closer and closer to losing his self control. No woman ever had turned him on the way Jennifra did. He had meant to hold on until she had two or three more climaxes. But she was so beautiful, so ticklish, and enjoying all he was doing to her so much, that he just couldn’t.
Mikhail switched the tickling from her wildly evading toes to Jennifra’s defenseless arches. Her laughter and writhing peaked at what seemed a superhuman level. Her nervous system exploded into a rapid fire series of powerful climaxes.
The unbridled pleasure expressed on Jennifra’s face and in her cries of joy and mirth sent Mikhail over the edge into the best, longest lasting, most thunderous orgasm he had ever had. His pleasure and joy triggered her into one more explosion as well.
Mikhail dried them both with a towel, and carried Jennifra the short way to the bed. He turned out all the lamps save one, then drew the curtains around the huge bed. They cuddled until they slept.
In the morning, Jennifra woke to find Mikhail tying her wrists and ankles together in front of her with the belt from his robe. She looked at him quizzically, not alarmed. With a devilish grin, he began tickling her feet.
Mikhail kept on tickling and teasing and kissing Jennifra and she once again totally out of control and ready. The most tantalizing thing was that she knew she could unwrap the belt if she could only think about it long enough. It wasn’t even knotted! But the tickling and teasing made that quite impossible.
Mikhail kept it up until Jennifra was way past ready. Again, as last night, they satisfied one another as no other ever had.
Later, over breakfast, they discussed the future. Jennifra agreed to live with him permanently as his mistress. Mikhail agreed that as long as he lived and ruled Kharkov, he would protect her family and her people against the periodic pogroms and other depredations, even those specifically ordered by the Imperial Government in Saint Petersburg.
Cuddling together on a bench in the garden, they watched the sun rise over the rolling hills to the west. They were content.
A Hysterical Historical
By Mastertank1
Author’s note; the character of Jennifra the market girl is based on Ticklejen of the TMF. The character of Duke Mikhail is a highly idealized version of me.
The year was 1770. Mikhail Abramovitch Gelinkta had inherited the Barony of Gleiwitz, both the title and the town, from his late father. Due to his outstanding successes in conquering dangerous Tartar tribes and their lands for the Czarina Catherine the Great, he had been created Duke of Kharkov.
This was a truly long step upward for Mikhail. Before, he was ruling a town of just over 4,000 inhabitants, in the part of Poland which was Russian territory this year, but might belong to Prussia or Austria the next, and therefore be lost to him. Now, he owned a fortified city of more than 60,000, with lands around it to a distance of 60 to 150 miles.
The extent of Mikhail’s fortune had been multiplied by well over 500 times, and he was deliriously happy. He had only moved into his new Ducal palace three weeks ago. He had finally completed his redecoration yesterday. He was now taking his very first ride around his new city, his new home.
Mikhail was a very large, very imposing man by the standards of his time and place. Even the upper nobility, well fed fighting men for tens of generations, seldom reached his 6’2” in height in 1778.
The massive breadth of his shoulders, the vast depth of his chest, the legs like the pillars of a cathedral were partly hereditary and partly due to stunningly hard work. Mikhail had worked long and hard to master all the weapons used by his troops, both the foot and the horse. He had even learned the arcana of the artillerists and the military engineers.
All of this labor and study had made him immensely stronger than his peers, both physically and mentally. At age 40, he was straight, hale and powerful. His aristocratic deep black hair, beard and moustache fairly bristled with vitality and virility. Women found him both handsome and sexy, and he knew he could have virtually any unmarried noblewoman in Russia as his wife.
He also knew that the choice of wife would be dictated by financial, dynastic and political considerations. He knew he would probably have to marry someone he neither liked nor found physically attractive. Before getting married, he intended to find a mistress.
He would seek out beautiful commoners and take them, one at a time, back to his palace/fortress. They would spend an evening in his company and a night in his bed. If they proved to be good company out of bed as well as in bed, they would be made note of and asked back for a second round of ‘auditions’.
The second round would consist of a weekend spent with each woman. After each had her chance to make an impression, he would narrow the field further.
The third round would involve a full week spent with each woman, and so he would proceed.
Eventually, Mikhail planned to choose one long term mistress and install her permanently in highly luxurious quarters near his own. He intended that this mistress would be firmly entrenched in the household before he ever selected a politically expedient wife. He also firmly intended that the wife would never supplant the mistress, either in his heart or in control and authority within his home.
Today, Mikhail was not out looking for a mistress candidate. He was taking his first ever tour of the marketplaces in his new city, getting a feel for what sort of goods and goodies he might expect to find locally without having to import them at extra cost.
So far, Mikhail’s expedition had been fruitful. He had located purveyors in the various markets around town who regularly carried most of his favorite delicacies in terms of food and drink.
In the Cossack Market, he had found a weapon smith whose quality and variety of goods met his needs. In the Thieves Market he had found a seller of brassware and bric-a-brac. In the Tartar Market he had located a rug seller.
Now, as the sun neared the western horizon and it’s slanting rays gave a red-golden cast to everything, Mikhail planned to finish his tour in the Jewish Market. Here he hoped to find a calligrapher, a bookseller, and a fine tobacconist. He had heard rumors of all three.
He had not heard anything about a physician, an attorney, an herbalist or an apothecary. Mikhail knew, however, that the Jewish Market was probably where the best of each were to be found.
Mikhail had already located his calligrapher, bookseller, doctor, lawyer and pharmacist. He had just sighted the tobacconist he had been told of, and was pleased to note the presence of a very clean and prosperous looking herbalist’s shop right next door. Then, looking at the herbalist’s sidewalk display, he saw Jennifra.
Jennifra was the eldest daughter of the herb seller. A childless widow at 34, the mourning period for her late husband was about to end. She was quite nervous about it.
Her father had told her this morning, with a look of deep satisfaction on his face, that practically every eligible widower in the Jewish community of the city had already expressed an interest in marrying her. So had a number of eligible bachelors, including some who were several years younger than she was.
Jennifra was the great beauty of her generation of the Jewish community in the city of Kharkov. In addition to having a face of stunning beauty, her 5’3” frame was abundantly feminine and deliciously sexy. Large breasts, wide but not fat hips, softly rounded belly, enticing rump, all added to her outstanding attractiveness.
From the intersection where Mikhail sat his peacetime steed, his eye was caught when the wind pressed Jennifra’s loose skirt against her sturdy, excitingly shapely legs. She had momentarily slipped her shoes off and climbed onto a box, where she stood on tiptoes craning to see over the heads of the crowd to discern what disturbance might be causing a spreading commotion two streets down.
Following down the lovely curves of her legs, Mikhail’s attention was again arrested by the sight of her shapely, wide, high arched bare feet with their pretty, round, short stemmed toes. Mikhail licked his lips. When he looked up her person he finally noticed her beautiful, wide oval face and her shoulder length, healthily glossy hair of a lustrous dark brown.
When he noticed the sweet curves of Jennifra’s lips, Mikhail licked his own again. He was imagining just how delicious those lips might taste under his own.
Then Mikhail’s ears caught the sound of a rapidly approaching fight. That was what Jennifra was looking at. She was growing alarmed as the fight moved in the direction of her father’s shop.
Mikhail stepped behind the table holding her father’s wares. She stifled her objection when she recognized the well favored face of the new, young Duke of Kharkov.
Grasping her by the waist, Mikhail effortlessly lifted her solidly feminine weight down from the box, casually slipping her bare feet back into her shoes, before stepping up onto the solid wood of the box himself. As his fingers slid from her waist, Jennifra gave out a squeak and a giggle. She could swear that the Duke had deliberately tickled her! She also felt sure he had smiled when he realized that she was ticklish, and she was embarrassed by that.
From atop the box, Mikhail could see that the problem was a dozen drunken rivermen. They were roistering through the Jewish market, taking by force anything that caught their eye.
Tossing the reins of his horse to Jennifra’s father, who had come out of the shop to see what the noise was about, Mikhail moved towards the drunks, signaling his four guards to follow. Flipping his hood up around his head, he moved to stand in the rivermen’s path.
When the first to reach him tried to bull past, Mikhail placed the palm of his left hand over the center of the man’s chest and shoved, cannoning him back into his fellows, who caught him and stopped him from falling. In a voice like distant thunder, Mikhail rumbled; “Drop your weapons and submit to arrest. You are breaking the Duke’s peace and flouting the Duke’s justice.”
“These are just Jews. The Duke’s justice cares nothing for such as these!”
“The Duke’s justice protects ALL the Duke’s subjects, you presumptuous scum!”
“Who the hell are you to speak for the Duke’s justice?”
Flipping his hood down, Mikhail bellowed in a voice that was heard across half of the city; “I AM THE DUKE’S JUSTICE!!!!”
Mikhail’s four guardsmen stood forth, two behind each of his massive shoulders. All five men dropped their cloaks and drew their sabers. The leader of the rivermen shouldered his way to the front and faced Mikhail.
“We have you outnumbered fifteen to five!”
“Soldiers are never outnumbered by rabble. And merely by stating that, you have forfeit your own life and the lives of any of your men who stand with you against me.”
“Am I to believe that a Christian Duke would slay Christian sailors for despoiling Jews?”
“When you pointed out the numbers against me, that was a threat. Believe that I will slay ANY men who dare to threaten me as their lawful liege.”
The rivermen went for their weapons, a motley collection of swords and daggers. Before he had a chance to raise his Tulwar, the leader of the rivermen had been sliced into four parts. A single blow from Mikhail’s mighty saber severed both arms above the elbow and the trunk just below the armpits.
The other fourteen rivermen surrendered to Mikhail’s guardsmen, who summoned the city watch to take them into custody. The charge was treason in threatening the life of their Duke. They were all dead men.
Mikhail reclaimed his horse from Jennifra’s father. He mounted, and sat gazing lustfully down at the Jewish beauty. He said to the herbalist; “Is this woman your daughter?”
“Yes Sire, she is. And the light of my life.”
“Is she wedded?”
“A widow, my Lord, an it please thee.”
“It pleases me greatly.” Said Mikhail. He reached down to grasp Jennifra around the waist and placed her across his saddle. “If she pleases me not, she’ll be returned to you unharmed on the morrow, but dressed far more richly. If she pleases me well, she may become resident in some of the finest quarters in my palace. We shall see.”
Mikhail settled Jennifra in a sidesaddle position across the saddle in front of himself. Examining her face at close range, she was more beautiful than ever. His hot brown eyes gazed into her frightened ones from only a few inches distance. He told her she had nothing to fear, that he would neither hurt her nor allow harm to come to her.
There was something in the tone of his voice, the devastatingly sexy smile on his handsome face, the firm, gentle strength of his grasp upon her person, that somehow reassured her. She believed what he said and began to relax.
The guards at the palace gates recognized their lord, and swung the gates wide. Mikhail pulled his horse to a stop in front of the main steps. Tossing the reins to a groom, he swept Jennifra up in his left arm and vaulted from the saddle to the top step, still holding her safe. He placed her on her feet, and, with his arm still around her waist, ushered her into his home.
The redecoration had clearly taken place without any touch of a woman’s taste or sensibility. It was almost overpoweringly masculine.
Massive, simple, unadorned furniture, meticulously crafted from the finest dark woods. Solid color or two tone carpets in deep earth shades. Single figure portrait style sculptures. Equestrian portraits of male ancestors, interspersed with paintings of battle scenes. Weapons and trophies of war and the hunt everywhere. Dark hardwood wainscoting below cream colored walls.
Mikhail walked Jennifra to the foot of a wide, curving staircase leading up to the second floor. He handed his cloak to a liveried butler and said; “Have Tainelga meet me in my antechamber.”
Ushering Jennifra up the stairs Mikhail asked her name, and her age, and other facts about her and her family. The second floor hallway was slightly lighter in tones than the ground floor, by what she could see, but still very male.
The antechamber was a little less overwhelming, lightened by portraits of female ancestors, some very beautiful. All the paintings had something in common.
In defiance of long standing convention regarding portraits of aristocratic women, all the women’s shoulders were covered, and all of their feet were bare. Further, they were all seated or reclining in postures which revealed part or all of the bottoms of their feet.
Mikhail poured himself a goblet of wine and offered one to Jennifra, who accepted. Neither she nor her father had offered any resistance to Mikhail’s seizure of her person.
Even if they had been Christian, a commoner in that time and place had no rights against a Duke, or none that anyone would defend or enforce. Under the laws then, Jews like Jennifra’s family had even fewer rights than Christians. The idea of resisting had never even crossed their minds; it would have amounted to suicide.
They spoke pleasantly together for a few minutes longer. Jennifra was surprised that Mikhail seemed to be genuinely interested in her as a person. Then Tainelga entered the room.
Tainelga was a Tartar woman in her late forties, and the housemistress of the women’s wing of Mikhail’s palace. Except for the servants she ruled with an iron hand, that wing was yet empty. Mikhail issued instructions; “Tainelga, this is Jennifra, a Jewess from the market square in the Kharkov Ghetto. She is a serious candidate for Chief Concubine. Take her to the women’s wing, have her bathed and clothed to be my companion at dinner tonight. There will be no guests from outside the household, so nothing too elaborate. My chief steward and chief armsman will dine with me, with their ladies.”
Tainelga hustled Jennifra off down the second floor corridor. They passed through a doubly guarded set of double doors. The outside of the doors was guarded by a pair of huge troopers with sabers, daggers and a pair of pistols each. Inside the doors stood a pair of huge, muscular women, similarly armed. The women looked just as grimly competent as the men, and seemed even tougher.
Beyond the guarded doors were a series of opulent rooms, decorated in what was clearly a man’s idea of what women’s quarters should look like. Within were a full dozen female servants. None were ugly, but none were beautiful. Clearly, they had been hired for ability, not looks.
Tainelga began giving orders; “Bath first.”
The servants swarmed around Jennifra, removing her work clothes and taking them away, while moving her through two more rooms to a large chamber in which most of the floor was taken up by a heated pool. The air was scented faintly with some aromatic oil floating on top of the warmed water.
Enthusiastically disrobing themselves, half of them hustled her down the wide, shallow stairs leading into the pool. They seated her on a submerged, shaped stone stool and began washing her with fine soap, not forgetting her hair, and then rinsed her off with scented water.
After soaping and rinsing her hair for a second time, they brought Jennifra back out of the water. There, the other six servants were waiting with soft drying cloths and scented powders. They also had other things with them.
They placed Jennifra on a waist high couch to receive their ministrations. When they were done, she had been very thoroughly depilated, with not a hair remaining on her legs or arms or under her arms.
Throughout the process of washing, drying and depilating various of the serving women had kept sneaking in little tickles here and there. Tainelga had been carefully noting Jennifra’s reactions to the tickles, all of which had been planned, and now went off to report to Mikhail while Jennifra was given a light snack and then taken to a bedchamber to rest.
Later, well after sundown, they garbed Jennifra in ‘everyday’ clothing for the mistress of a Duke. This ‘everyday’ garb was finer than anything Jennifra had ever owned. It consisted of stockings, shoes, a dress, a robe, a tiara, a necklace, a brooch and some rings.
They were not of the best. The stones were semi-precious. The gold was only 10 carat. The fabrics were not silk or satin or lace, but they were of the finest grades of cotton and linen. The shoes were not kid or calf, but they were of dyed suede.
The underwear, the dress, the robe, the shoes, the brooch, the necklace, the tiara and each of two rings were each on it’s own worth more than Jennifra’s family herb shop earned in a year. Some of the items were worth ten times that.
She had never worn anything so fine. It made her nervous, and a little afraid. Then Mikhail came to the door of the robing chamber to escort her to dinner.
He held out his bent arm. Despite being flustered for a moment, Jennifra quickly recovered and laid her hand along his forearm. The feel of the immense muscles under the fine broadcloth thrilled her. From the corner of his eye, Mikhail saw her reaction and smiled.
He spoke to her of things she knew, such as the uses of varied herbs, both in cooking and medicine. Jennifra was absorbed in the conversation. When they swept through the door of the dining hall, she didn’t even notice that they had entered the full view of the dinner guests and servants.
They arrived at the table and Mikhail was seating Jennifra before it occurred to her that they had already made the entrance she had been worried about. As Mikhail took his seat by her side, she flashed him a swift look of gratitude. She understood that he had deliberately distracted her to get her past her nervousness. Mikhail smiled back.
The dinner was rich, so Jennifra was careful not to overindulge. She tasted everything, but consumed only moderate amounts, both of the food and the drink. Mikhail noticed this, as he was noticing everything about her.
The conversation was somewhat technical. Mikhail was asking his chief armsman about the state of his private army, and asking the chief steward about the state of the productive farms and estates that were part of the duchy of Kharkov.
Because of her local knowledge, Jennifra was able to offer intelligent questions and comments regarding the agricultural productivity. She listened carefully to the military talk, but wisely kept her mouth shut on matters she knew nothing about. Mikhail noted both of these responses, and approved of both. She was impressing him very favorably so far.
Then dinner ended. Mikhail exchanged forearm clasps with his men, kissed the hands of their ladies, and then he and Jennifra were alone. He conducted her back to the antechamber outside his bedroom, and seated her on a couch facing the fire in the fireplace. He sat down beside her, and began to talk.
The conversed about everything and nothing while the meal they had eaten digested. Mikhail was guaging her intelligence and articulateness. He was increasingly pleased with her.
As the fire burned down, Mikhail slipped his arm around Jennifra’s shoulders, and she snuggled up to his side as naturally as though they had done this for years. She was no longer self conscious with him at all when he leaned over and kissed her lips, easily and naturally.
After a few seconds of passive acceptance, she began to kiss back. The kiss lasted several minutes. When they broke and leaned back, they were smiling at each other.
Taking her by both hands, Mikhail lifted Jennifra up off the couch and led her through the doors into his bedchamber. There she saw a side table and a strange looking couch-armchair halfway from the door to the bed.
The item of furniture was like nothing Jennifra had ever seen. It looked like a half-circle armchair with the seat extended like a long, fat tongue. It was upholstered in thick, dark red plush with heavy absorbent padding. There were upstanding wooden knobs at six points along the half circle of the armchair part of the device, and two more on either side at the far end of the extended tongue. A thick, soft velvet rope dangled from each knob.
The side table was covered with a thick red velvet cloth, and had three drawers in the side facing the chair/couch. On top of the table sat a lovely jewelry box of polished hardwood, inlaid with Jennifra’s first name in gold.
Mikhail smiled and opened the box. The inside was lined in black velvet, and divided into empty compartments. He took the Tiara from Jennifra’s lustrous brown hair and placed it in the box.
Gently pulling Jennifra towards him, Mikhail slowly disrobed her. As each item of jewelry was removed, it went into its place in the box. The robe was draped over a clothes press.
Mikhail unfastened her dress and removed it, draping it over the robe. He caressed her shoulders and arms. He lifted her hands one by one and kissed the palms, tickling each with a wiggle of his tongue. She giggled each time, and he kissed her giggling mouth.
Mikhail lifted Jennifra’s undergown off of her, adding it to the pile on the press. He took off her corset, which had not needed to be tight at all to give her an attractive figure. He dropped her underpants to the floor where she stepped out of them. He caressed her sides, her belly, her buttocks, her breasts, her thighs.
She was becoming intensely aroused.
Jennifra was now wearing only her stockings and shoes. Mikhail began shedding his own clothing. Jennifra helped with growing enthusiasm as she saw the true mountain of muscle and sinew that was her now soon to be lover. The more she became aware of his immense strength, the more his continuing gentleness as he touched her impressed and thrilled her.
Mikhail lifted her in his arms, cradled her against his chest and whispered in Jennifra’s ear; “Come to the tickling couch.”
Tickling! Her heartbeat quickened. Jennifra had heard about this odd custom of the nobility. She had heard that in Moscow high ranking women hired professional ticklers to prepare them to show passionate desire to an unattractive lover.
Now, the most attractive, sexy man she had ever seen was about to tickle her in order to increase her already burning desire. She knew his intent was to increase their mutual pleasure, and the thought thrilled her immensely.
Mikhail began by placing her face down on the tongue of the couch. Jennifra was surprised, but made no objection when he used the velvet ropes to fasten her wrists to the bottoms of the legs at the end of the couch’s tongue. He then bent each of her legs at the knee, and used two more of the velvet ropes to attach her ankles to the knobs on the ends of the chairarms at the chair end of the couch.
Mikhail began tickling Jennifra, slowly, sensually. His fingertips just barely grazed her skin, teasing her shoulders, her back, her neck. When he tickled the back and sides of her neck she faintly giggled. When he teasingly ran fingertips up and down her spine she shivered with delicious chills. Mostly, she just made little MMMM mmmm sounds of pleasure.
Mikhail began tickling Jennifra’s buttocks and the backs of her thighs above her stockings. She loved how that felt. She began softly moaning and her hips began to undulate. Both of the lovers were smiling. They both knew how much he was turning her on.
Mikhail wanted to hear more of Jennifra’s sweet giggles. He started to tickle the backs of her knees, through the stockings. As if obeying a spoken command, she at once started giggling. He liked the sound, and kept this up for several minutes.
Abruptly, Mikhail stood up. He walked down to the end of the couch and dropped into a cross legged seat on the floor, his face only inches from hers.
With a gentle touch of his right index finger, he raised her face so he could kiss her generous mouth. She kissed back enthusiastically.
Then Mikhail started to tickle Jennifra under chin. This made her giggle wildly, much more loudly than before. For the first she started to pull on her bonds. She was doing that involuntarily. Actually, she was glad they were there. Escape was the last thing she wanted right now.
When Mikhail kissed Jennifra while he kept tickling her under the chin, her state of arousal soared. He continued to kiss her and tease her. When he lickled her ears, one by one, she nearly jumped out of her skin, but she loved it. It made her feel so wonderfully out of control!
Mikhail leaned back and smiled at Jennifra while she got her breath back under control. She was smiling back. Mikhail told her; “I love the sound of your giggles. Now, I wish to hear you laugh.”
As soon as she heard that she began to breathe faster. Mikhail reached past Jennifra’s head on both sides and he started to tickle her sides. At once, she was laughing out loud. This really tickled, and she had no choice but to laugh.
As Mikhail’s big hands lazily wandered up and down the soft, exquisitely feminine curves of her sides, Jennifra couldn’t stop laughing. Her body was out of control. She could not stop her wiggling and wriggling any more than she could control her laughter. The oddest thing was that she really enjoyed it.
When Mikhail leaned forward to stifle her laughter by kissing her again, Jennifra found her arousal and pleasure increasing again. He was driving her wild, in ways that were purely good.
Then Mikhail’s hands moved from her sides to her armpits. That took her by surprise and seemed to tickle much more. Jennifra’s body was sudden thrashing about wildly in her bonds, her laughter growing to a series of loud gusts of merriment. Then he was kissing her mouth again. Oh, this was making her hot!
After several minutes of this treatment, Mikhail broke off to let Jennifra regain her breath. He grabbed a pair of goose quills from his writing desk as he moved to the chair end of the couch. Lightly vaulting over the chair back, he plopped down crosslegged again, with his back leaning against the curved rear rest.
Jennifra craned her neck, trying to see where Mikhail was, and what he might be preparing to do. He asked her if she was having fun, and she answered that she was. He smiled again, and he started to tickle her stockinged feet with his fingertips.
Startled, Jennifra laughed loud, long and hard. She expelled every atom of air in her lungs, gasped them full in an instant, and resumed wildly, helplessly laughing. Mikhail kept the delightfully squirming beauty laughing and writhing for several minutes, then stopped. He watched her torso expand and contract with her deep breathing. He marveled again at how lovely she was. Then he picked up the goose quills.
Mikhail started by tickling her beautiful ass, slow, looping strokes of the two feathers randomly covering every millimeter of those luscious globes. He was making Jennifra giggle and wiggle, her sweetly curved buttocks helplessly clenching and relaxing in the only motion they were capable of.
Next Mikhail tickled her tender inner thighs with the feathers. Even though Jennifra did not really want the sensations to end, she was struggling futilely, ever more desperately trying to bring her thighs together to protect the tender flesh. Mikhail blocked her efforts by pressing the balls of his feet and his toes against the insides of her knees.
Mikhail, glancing at Jennifra’s pussy, could see how aroused she was. That’s when he started to slowly, slowly tease her engorged and moist labia with the rounded tips of the feathers. She was shocked at how incredibly ticklish that felt!
Mikhail was enjoying the way Jennifra’s hips bucked and undulated in response to the feathers. He loved the way she kept laughing and laughing, unable to stop for an instant. He loved the growing wetness of her sex, evidence that he was exciting her more and more intensely. He loved the steadily deepening engorgement of her labia. When it seemed that her body’s mindless attempts to escape from the wicked teasing of the feathers had become absolutely frantic, he stopped.
Moving with incredible speed and delicacy for a man so huge, Mikhail unwrapped the ropes from Jennifra’s ankles, whipped off her stockings, jumped to the opposite end of the couch and unwrapped the ropes that held her wrists. Lifting her gently but swiftly, he reversed her position.
Jennifra’s back was against the chair back, her arms draped over the arms of the couch. Mikhail crossed her arms behind her head. Using the velvet ropes on the couch, he bound each wrist to the opposite elbow and then to a knob on the rim of the chair back.
Rubbing her calves and her thighs to make sure there were no cramps or knots, he bent both her legs up and back. With additional velvet ropes, Mikhail fastened each leg to a knob on the end of an arm of the chair back, setting the ropes just above her knees. Using two more of the ropes, he fastened Jennifra’s shapely ankles to the same knobs that held her wrists and elbows, but above them, out of reach of her fingers.
Jennifra was dazed by the speed of her change of position. Testing her new bonds, she quickly realized that she was more helpless than ever. The gentleness with which this immensely powerful man continued to touch her convinced her there was nothing to fear. Perversely, the more completely defenseless he made her, the safer she felt in his hands. Somehow, she just knew Mikhail would protect her and never hurt her.
She was quickly reminded that teasing and tickling were a whole different matter. Straddling the tongue of the couch, Mikhail had those maddening feathers in hand, and resumed softly tickling her pussy. Instantly, Jennifra was laughing and writhing in maddening ticklish delight again. She was screaming with laughter and joy.
Mikhail was eagerly watching Jennifra’s clitoris slowly poke its head out from under the small hood of skin that normally hid it. Once it was far enough out, he began to lightly, lightly stroke that exquisitely sensitive bud with the slightly rounded points of the feathers.
As those fiendish feathers teased her throbbing clit, Jennifra shrilled the wildest, least controlled laughter yet. Mikhail continued the wonderful torment for only a couple of minutes, then let her rest and gasp. Then he gave another couple of minutes, then another break. Then he repeated the cycle again, and again. He was deliberately building her need for release to levels she had never known.
Leaning back and gazing fondly at his willing victim, Mikhail asked; “Do you need to climax, my sweet one?”
“Oh, yes! You know I do! Please, please!”
Mikhail leaned forward to engulf Jennifra’s clit in his mouth while his hands slid up her body to tickle her ribs. Trying laugh from ticklishness and moan with pleasure at the same time, Jennifra’s body convulsed in happy confusion for several minutes, and then she exploded in joyful orgasm.
Mikhail remained in position, but stopped both the tickling and the cunnilingus. After letting the hormones race though her bloodstream to heighten her senses, he resumed both the tease and the tickle on Jennifra’s now hypersensitized flesh. Impossibly, both felt even more intense, and even better than before.
With a gentleness that Jennifra found incredible, and which touched her emotions as much as her body, he got her uncontrollably laughing again as he brought her to two, then three more orgasms. As Mikhail allowed her to regain her breath yet again after her fourth climax, they gazed at each other with deepening affection. She spoke to him; “Your turn, my lover, my Lord and my Master. Your turn for pleasure. I need to feel you inside of me, reaching completion and flooding me full with your pleasure.”
Behind her affectionate smile, Jennifra’s mind quietly boggled; “Did I actually SAY that out loud?” she thought. “Where did that come from? I’ve NEVER been so bold!”
Mikhail’s smile was expressive of pure delight; “Truly, my darling? You want to feel my climax inside of you?”
Jennifra silently nodded her head, then leaned it back to rest on her crossed arms and closed her eyes while her Mikhail gently entered her. The way that he filled her up pleased her more fully than anything else ever had. She could feel his sweet breath on her face, and she opened her eyes to see him grinning at her from inches away.
Jennifra started to grin back when she noticed Mikhail’s hands reaching up past her head. Then she felt all of his fingertips poised at the points where the stems of her toes grew out of her feet. Then she felt all of those fingertips start slowly grazing their way down over the balls of her feet.
Jennifra exploded into wild, raucous laughter, the wildest yet. Her attempts to pull her ticklish feet away from the truly unbearable ticklish sensations were monumental. As Mikhail’s fingers caressed their way down the balls of her feet, along the length of the flats of her soles, across the soft expanses of her heels to the bottom Jennifra was nearly hysterical. Then as they reversed direction and retraced their path to the starting point, her frantic tugs and pulls against the ropes caused her lovely hips to buck and undulate.
The tickling would not let Jennifra stop laughing. The movement of her body was creating the most incredible pleasure rushes she where Mikhail was inside her and where his groin rubbed on hers. It was driving her out of her mind, but she loved every instant of the intense sensations. Then she had the best orgasm yet, by far the best in her entire life.
Mikhail began tickling her toes. As they frantically wiggled Mikhail found himself growing closer and closer to losing his self control. No woman ever had turned him on the way Jennifra did. He had meant to hold on until she had two or three more climaxes. But she was so beautiful, so ticklish, and enjoying all he was doing to her so much, that he just couldn’t.
Mikhail switched the tickling from her wildly evading toes to Jennifra’s defenseless arches. Her laughter and writhing peaked at what seemed a superhuman level. Her nervous system exploded into a rapid fire series of powerful climaxes.
The unbridled pleasure expressed on Jennifra’s face and in her cries of joy and mirth sent Mikhail over the edge into the best, longest lasting, most thunderous orgasm he had ever had. His pleasure and joy triggered her into one more explosion as well.
Mikhail dried them both with a towel, and carried Jennifra the short way to the bed. He turned out all the lamps save one, then drew the curtains around the huge bed. They cuddled until they slept.
In the morning, Jennifra woke to find Mikhail tying her wrists and ankles together in front of her with the belt from his robe. She looked at him quizzically, not alarmed. With a devilish grin, he began tickling her feet.
Mikhail kept on tickling and teasing and kissing Jennifra and she once again totally out of control and ready. The most tantalizing thing was that she knew she could unwrap the belt if she could only think about it long enough. It wasn’t even knotted! But the tickling and teasing made that quite impossible.
Mikhail kept it up until Jennifra was way past ready. Again, as last night, they satisfied one another as no other ever had.
Later, over breakfast, they discussed the future. Jennifra agreed to live with him permanently as his mistress. Mikhail agreed that as long as he lived and ruled Kharkov, he would protect her family and her people against the periodic pogroms and other depredations, even those specifically ordered by the Imperial Government in Saint Petersburg.
Cuddling together on a bench in the garden, they watched the sun rise over the rolling hills to the west. They were content.
