TheTicklingWord
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You can read part 1 here:
https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?318935-The-age-of-laughter-background-(no-tickling)
Hope you all enjoy the 5000 plus words. Part 3 will take me a while but make no mistake it’s on its way!!!
The Alshown wasted no time in the creation of their utopia and for 10 years they ruled with absolute power and devotion. The gods took sustenance from those women gifted with a life as a servant within the church while others loved, married, and had children.
However as all things, peace cannot last without sacrifice. As another time of Harvest approached. Hundreds of 17 year old girls stayed up late praying to the gods to allow them to serve as they willed. Some wept and others laughed. Yet, they all could feel the stirring of fear. The fear of being a giver to the gods. The fear of never leaving the church to be trapped in whatever fate awaited those in the dungeons of the cathedral.
Yet, the fear only crippled one. Her name was Monique and something in her heart told her that such a fate awaited her within the church. While most prayed, Monique was spending the night with her entire 5 foot frame curled up on the arms of her mother weeping. Monique’s dark hair fell around her in well kept clumps and her ivory skin shown in the candlelight of the room.
Her mother tried to comfort her. She spoke soothing words of the gods over her and held her close. Many knew her mother only as Ms. Preston, a strong independent woman, whose husband died during a building accident within the city. Many did not know that her first name was Abby or that she hated the city and it’s rule. Even more were not aware, she would do anything to protect her daughter from the fate of a giver. But for tonight, she only held her daughter close and tried her best to drive the demons of fear away from her. Morning would come soon and then the entire city would know the fate her daughter would meet. With a trembling breath, she realized her daughter had finally fallen and she willingly went to join her into the bliss of dreams.
-Collection Day
Morning came all too soon for Abby and Monique, they both awoke and looked at one another for what could be the last time. Abby could not help but feel a swell of pride at the beauty of her daughter even with eyes puffy with sleep. Her dark hair, long lashes, and piercing blue eyes all stared at her mother as those of a ghost or one soon to be a ghost. Overcome with emotion she wraps her arms around her daughter again whispering in her ear “you are going to look amazing today.”
Monique gives her mother a sad smile. Pink lips creased in fear and pride at her mother’s words. She slides off of the bed without a word. She feared what words could bring to her mother and herself. Instead, she headed into their washroom and undressed. She prepared herself in ways she never had before as dictated by the church. Every nail was trimmed, all excess body hair removed, and the ointment given to each girl for this moment rubbed generously into every last inch of her body. Once completed, she came out of the bathroom to find the white dress and blouse top specifically mandated for all those about to be sorted. The outfit was snug on her form and showed her natural curves gifted to her through genetics and a purposeful workout and training routine encouraged by all for any young woman who may serve within the church.
She stopped to admire herself in the mirror and twirled slightly causing the knee high dress to flutter. She stared at herself and once again had to hold back the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes. She slowly slid to her knees and once again muttered prayer after prayer to the gods. Prayers of strength and acceptance. Fear and bravery. She remained supplicant till a light knock resounded off of her mother’s front door. The security detail from the church was finally making their rounds to collect each girl for the sorting and to prevent any confusion or foul play from family members.
Blinking away tears and putting on a plastic smile, Monique walked down the stairs to her front door. Opening the door, she was greeted by a man in all white holding a clipboard. He glances up at her from behind a dark mask designed for protection and range of visions, “Monique Preston?” She nods, a motion she barely registers as butterflies take flight in her stomach and shackles take over her limbs.
“Please come with me.” He instructs. Turning briskly, he does not cast a look back her way. Such was the power of a church collector. No one would refuse him and all knew he would speak a second time.
With a deep shuddering breath, Monique walks out of her house. No heartfelt goodbyes to her mother. Not even a look, as she prepared to give herself to the church. A large domed vehicle on the central rail that ran to the church awaited her. It’s crisp white paint and windowless carriage reminded her of the old vehicles used to herd cattle prior to the apocalypse that shook the world. She had never seen one of course but some of the literature survived and they were devoured by many curious men and women like herself.
Her thoughts were soon dashed aside as the back of the transport opened revealing 16 or so girls all sitting in neat rows. None of them said a word when she entered. None of them even met her gaze as she walked to the one last vacant seat near the front of the vehicle. Sitting down and pulling her dress around her, she shut her eyes and communed with the gods.
The entire ride occurred in silence. Not one girl spoke and not one even moved. The entire car has heads bowed and eyes closed in supplication. They would have remained this way, if not for the lurch signifying the stop of the vehicle. Monique was almost flung out of her seat but she planted her feet to steady herself as many other of the girls did.
A small hiss sound escapes the entry hatch as it once again opened and one by one the girls marched into an empty docking area. White walls lined the inside of the dock and signs pointed them to their destination.
Monique followed the other girls along the white walls and shiny floors to a small oaken door. As if anticipating their approach, the door swung open revealing a massive area of worship.
Pews lined the bottom floor in white upholstery. White walls arched to a narrow steeple that oversaw and often projected voice messages to the community from the ministers of the church. Levels upon levels of balconies stretched up until it was impossible to tell how many could be seated and yet, with all the room and beauty, a deathly silence hung over the girls being ushered in. The small pat of there feet or shoes echoed in a silent voice as they were led to the forefront of the church. No one occupies the pews and no one stood before them. However, each would be judged silently by the gods of their people. Each girl kneeled and continued their supplication to the gods. Willing for a feeling and direction to their purpose.
Monique was the 28th girl to drop to her knees in supplication. ‘Please my lords guide me and direct me with your pleasure. Where is it that you need me? Where can I serve you best? My body is a temple for your glory and honor. I submit myself to your guidance and will. Please take me as an offering holy and for your uses.’ No sooner had she finished her mindful prayer then her mind felt a pull.
It started with a minor tickle of the brain and slowly grew until her limbs began to move on their own though her eyes were still shut. Step by step she moved. First she stood up and then taking one step out of line began to walk to the left. She had taken 20 steps before she finally opened her eyes to see the line of girls slowly fading behind her. A dark oaken door stood before her and with trembling hands she reached out and forced the door open.
A blast of warm air hit her face. Torches hung on the walls illuminating a staircase spiraling downward beyond her vision. The stairwell seemed to call to her as she slipped off her snarled and took her first step on the grey smooth stones. Her white feet felt cool as they descended deeper and deeper under the church. The descent only lasted for a minute but, with every step, Monique’s desire to reach the bottom grew. Something or someone had fully taken over her mind and desires. The gods she hoped, though she could not be sure.
Once the stair levels out, she found herself in a well lit, via torchlight, room with 5 chairs. No one was present and with little else to do her body moved to the first chair before taking a seat. 5 minutes passed before a door creaked open from across the room. A door made to be hidden. One that blended perfectly with the dark grey stone around her. A masked individual came out and without a word approached her.
Her eyes searched the body but nothing threatening presented herself. In fact, to her surprise, she noticed the body was that of a woman. Soon the woman stood before her and the masked woman offered her a hand stretched palm outward. With a gasp Monique recognized the ancient form of greeting from ages long gone. Standing, she took the woman’s hand and offered it a small shake. The woman’s green eyes drove into her soul as they shook hands before Monique, unnerved by the woman’s gaze, broke the contact.
A soft voice spoke from behind the mask, “they have called you to give yourself for their glory. Will you answer the call?”
In a voice not quite her own, Monique replied “unto their will I submit myself and their call I have answered.”
With a curt nod, the masked figure pulled out a set of restrains made to keep the wrists of the individual immobilized behind the back. “Will you submit yourself to the sustenance of the gods?” She undid both restraints and held them out to Monique.
“Yes I take upon myself the bonds of service and submit myself as sustenance to the gods in whatever needs they have.” Monique slipped her wrist into one of the restraints. She clipped it around her small wrists and then held her hands behind her back until the masked woman slowly walked around her and secured her other wrist.
The woman took ahold of Monique’s smooth right arm “follow me into your new service.” As she spoke the door slowly swung open again revealing a long hallway ending in another door. “We will notify your mother of the gods decision for your life and your acceptance of their divine will.”
Monique nodded while allowing herself to be led into the hallway. Past the door that led to freedom. To her old life. With a shaky sigh, she looked ahead even as the door ahead of her was opened and two figures stepped out. Each grabbed a different arm of Monique and together they led her down two more hallways and finally a flight of stairs.
At the base of the stairs, a small series of cell doors sat. She was led to the first. A small room with a cot in the corner and food on a table. A small door in the corner led to what she assumed was the wash room. Her wrists were uncuffed and both women turned to her. “Here you will be kept until we gain word from your mother that she accepts the will of the gods. Until such a time as we have confirmation, you will remain here untouched and unspoilt. If you need for or drink, you only need to ring this bell.” The woman on the left procured a small bell out of her pocket and handed it to Monique. “Please enjoy this time as much as you can. Little rest is given to those once their service to the gods begin. We cannot answer any questions you may have as secrets cannot be shared to those still awaiting confirmation. We will pray to the gods for your body and soul.” With a small bow, both left the cell room leaving Monique both terrified and curious if her new life. She sat at the table and once again shut her eyes to pray for understanding for her mother and that her mother would accept the will of the gods. It was in this position, sleep finally found her and took her away from the room. Took her to a place no one could touch her. The tranquility of dreams.
Abby Prestons Decision
Abby, monique’s, lay on her bed weeping into her pillow. Fear thundered through her as she awaited the fate of her daughter. She had prayed to the gods until she was sure they were no longer listening. She had screamed at the sky until her voice was hoarse and all she could do now was weep to release the tension.
Her pillows and bed sheet was slick with tears when she heard a rap on the door. Hope seized her briefly, a fickle mistress reminding her that her daughter had returned. However, she saw a white church vehicle on the train cable outside her home, dispelling any hope that Monique had returned.
She opened the door quietly to two men in white uniforms. She looked them up and down but did not speak a word. Instead, she allowed them to shift nervously from one foot to the next till the younger looking of the two reached out an enveloped letter to her. With a small, almost sad, smile he turned with his partner back to their transport.
She did not allow them the luxury of leaving. “I know what this means.” The men slowly turned upon hearing her voice. Both with head downcast staring at the ground and not making eye contact. “She has been chosen hasn’t she. I mean why not. An amazingly pius girl like her, the gods know who to choose and why but it does not mean I have to accept it.” She turned and slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed her coat. “I will have a word with the bishop if you don’t mind.” Without waiting for their response, she walked past them and waited for them to open the back of the transport.
Both men stood frozen in shock for a moment. They had never heard of anyone regarding the letter in such a way. Most broke down in tears upon receiving it instead of their daughter. But, to his credit, the youngest sprung into action. He took his partner by the arm and steered him back to the vehicle before pressing a button to open the holding area. Once he was sure MS. Preston had entered, he closed the doors and powered the transport to return to the church. ‘What a day for the bishop’ he thought to himself. ‘Hope he does not blame us for this woman’s intrusion.’
The Bishop
The Bishop that Ms. Preston was on her way to meet, could not have less prepared for the strangely calm visitor, who showed up to his office and let herself in. The Bishop’s name was Daniel, not that anyone ever cared to ask, and he was 58 years old. He had been part of the original uprising of the monks so many years ago during the civil war. Since then he had come to enjoy the power and constancy his position brought. One of which was, he would have no visitors the day if the reaping as all the mothers and fathers would be too busy celebrating the return of a daughter or grieving the loss of one. Yet this middle aged woman was challenging the best of his expectations concerning a grieving mother.
After the initial shock of her arrival, the Bishop quickly took his seat and prayed with the woman. He had implored the gods to give her a spirit of acceptance and the courage to face life knowing her daughter was serving the gods. He wove a tapestry of beautiful words around the woman and he silently applauded himself for the defusal of the situation. Or so he thought.
As the last of his words fell from the ceiling back to the floor, the woman introduced herself. “Hello Bishop. I thank you for that prayer but I did not come here today to pray. My name is Abby Preston and the gods have called my daughter to serve them as a giver. Her name is Monique and she is all I have. She is pious and selfless and I am not surprised the gods chose her as a vessel for their service. Some part of me even feels pride in their decision. However, I cannot accept her fate. I am a pious woman, Bishop but I cannot sit by as my daughter is taken from me. I know the laws of the church and I will invoke them. I invoke the challenge of the gods. My prize is the body and soul of my daughter. My offer is my body and soul for the gods sustenance should I fail. As it is written, any woman strong enough to survive 2 days in the gods dungeon will be blessed and sainted in their sight. She shall be given that which she desires and will depart in peace and safety from the church. However, for the woman who fails nothing but suffering awaits her and only the offering of her body will redeem her in the eyes of the gods.” Abby’s gaze bored into the eyes of the Bishop as she spoke.
With a small sigh ‘why did this have to happen today,’ he opened the Tome of Knowledge which included every law and edict in the church. Finding the rules Abby was invoking, he turned to her. “You know there is no going back once I call in the Mistress of the Bringers?” Abby nods her head. “Though I would caution you otherwise, I will honor your wishes.” Moving to the door, he barked “Alyssa. Come here.” A thick large breasted woman with mousy brown hair came into view. “Yes Father Bishop?” She inquires.
The Bishop hands her a premade parchment of paper. “Take this to the Mistress of the Bringers. Tell her it is urgent and must begin today. IMMEDIATELY.” The woman paled, “are you not sure someone else would make a better messenger. After all, she hates to be disturbed during this time of day and sometimes her summoning comes with consequences.” She trembles everso slightly.
The Bishop sighs before handing her a small seal. “Take this and show it to her. She will not touch you if she knows you are my personal messenger. Now go.”
The woman turns and walks on trembling legs out of view. Abby could not be sure but she swore she heard trembling prayers muttered for safety and protection. The Bishop sat back down, “nothing to do now but wait for her arrival. I would invite you to join me in prayer to the gods for the upcoming ordeal. That their will would be done.” He bowed his head and his mouth moved in silent supplication. With a small shrug, Abby joined in as well but instead of praying for herself she begged that the gods would keep her daughter safe so she could see her again one day.
Around 45 minutes passed in complete silence for Abby, until she heard the patter of feet outside the door. The sound of feet that knew they were important and did not mind letting others know they were on their way. A loud rap on the door fully announced the visitor and the bishop said, “come in” without opening his eyes.
The dark oak door swung inward and Abby could barely hide her surprise at the woman who entered. She stood about 5 foot 10 or so with dark black hair that was covered by a black mask. Her white teeth shined slightly as she strode in with a grin and long neatly manicured nails were atop her hands. A soft voice came out of her “hello David. Your pretty little assistant told me this matter was of great urgency? I hope for her sake it is. Some of my trainees are currently entertaining her until I could get the entire story. Nothing permanent of course just something to take the starch out of her. Making sure she stops flashing that badge and all that.” She took a seat near the Bishop before glancing at Abby. “It’s not her is it?” She points briskly at Abby.
With another heavy sigh, the Bishop glanced at the woman who entered. “I see time has not calmed you Mistress. While the gods make use of your energy I’m sure my assistant is not one in the menu for the gods so I would request your cooperation in releasing her. As for the matter at hand, yes she is the cause of this intrusion. Her daughter was selected as a giver this morning and she has declared the challenge of the gods. I see no reason to deny her though I counseled her otherwise. She is quite insistent. She knows what fate awaits her should she revoke the challenge as well.” He looks at the Mistress intently. “As the laws decree you two cannot speak until she is in the dungeon of the gods. I expect you to uphold this unlike the other times where you have attempted to break protocol as this matter is of grave importance.”
He motioned the Mistress over to a paper he has created before beginning his earlier prayers. “This is the name of her daughter as well as her family tree etc etc. please make sure your bringers make sure to observe proper etiquette for this situation concerning her daughter.”
The Mistress smiled a toothy grin. “It would be my pleasure to serve the gods in this way considering it has been at least 30 years since anyone challenged a ruling in this manner. As for your pretty assistant, I will allow her to leave if she wants too. And since when have I been anything but professional in my years of service.” She rises out of the chair. “I will have the dungeon prepared and will send two apprentices to bring her down when we are ready. Until then, if you could have her wait in the foyer, I would greatly appreciate it.”
She waltzed out the door without waiting for acknowledgement not even bothering to close it. The Bishop watched her leave before turning to Abby “this is her show now. Please go wait in the foyer and prepare yourself for what the gods have awaiting you.” He turned away from her and knelt on his knees in prayer.
Abby took this as a sign for her to exit and she left the office quickly. Her thoughts whirled with questions she knew would not be answered until her trial began so onward she walked to the foyer. The open area was deserted so she sat in a soft red chair matching the upholstery of the floors. Silence was heavy in the air so she grabbed some of the churches literature to pass the time. She read articles on the suffering and pain of those living beyond the city as well as the latest food recipes to feed a family with the rations provided by the church. It was far from an engrossing read but helped take her mind off of current events.
Before she was fully ready, Abby heard the soft patter of feet walking across the foyers red carpet. With a small breath, she looked up and saw two female figures clad in black, much like their mistress was. They did not say a word as they approached and when they were a few feet from her, the one on the right motioned for her to follow. Abby slowly rose from her chair and followed both women out of the foyer, down two side hallways and finally to an oak door. The women reached out and pushed the door open before motioning her inside. Abby walked past both of them as she entered a dimly lit room where neither woman moved to follow. The doors were closed with a resounding boom leaving Abby quite alone.
The room she found herself in was dimly lit by 3 overhead lights but she could make out chairs sitting just outside of the lights touch. Wasting little time, she moved to the chairs and took a seat in the dim darkness. She did not have anything to read or occupy herself with in this extremely empty room so she twiddled her thumbs and clasps and unclasped her hands together. ‘Is this where they first took my daughter’ she wonders.
However, a voice suddenly floats upon the air, “so you have chosen to go through with your defiance of the gods will. It has been many years since I’ve had a rebel in here. Mainly I only get to play with spies or rebels and the like. Maybe a disobedient Bringer from time to time.” The Mistress slowly strides into the dim lighting still dressed in all black. In her right hand, she held a set of white clothes that she tossed to Abby. “Put these on. The white symbolizes the purity of heart any facing the gods must have to survive or so the bishops tell me. Not that any of them have ever been down here before. They are quite content to run the city from their lit offices and leave the acts in the darkness to us. A necessary evil I suppose.” She turns to give Abby privacy for change.
“Though, I don’t suppose any of those leaders would ever really want to see what goes on down here for fear that their concept of the gods would be forever altered. The cross we Bringers must bear.” She turns back to see Abby in the tight fitting dress the church provided for just these occasions. “Does it fit well?”
Abby rotates her bare arms and walks forward then back. “It fits surprisingly well thank you. But why all the buttons?” She points to the 8 buttons running from the crotch of the dress to her neck. “It was a pain to put on and snap.”
The Mistress smiles lightly, “the edict of the gods say so and that is good enough for me.” Now please follow me.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed deeper into the darkness. Abby quickly followed, barely able to track the Mistress’ shadow, until the Mistress opened a door blending perfectly with the wall. Light poured out of the room and Abby squinted her eyes at the sudden radiance. She could not see the room beyond the light and her eyes had yet to adjust but she followed the Mistress into the hidden room out of the desire to save her daughter.
Her eyes never had time to discuss. As soon as she entered the room, she felt a small prick in her right arm and the world slowly went black. She fell with a small sigh and the Mistress caught her. “As it is written the one standing in defiance cannot know the location of her punishment nor the manner in which it will occur. She will awaken in the chamber of the gods and her world will become one that she never knew existed.” She finished her recitation before setting Abby’s body on a gurney and slowly pushing it into a large mobile box that the old world called an elevator.
Down and down they traveled. Past the holding cells for the new givers, where Monique still awaited her fate to be decided. Past the halls of torment and the interrogation floors where the veteran bringers worked their craft against spies and insurrectionists. Past the living quarters for the givers till they finally reached a floor with no label or header. A floor strictly held for the Mistress herself.
With a small ding, the elevator door opened into a small loading bag that ended in a large soundproof metal door. This area was only reserved for the most stubborn spies or those who challenged the edict of the gods. None knew what lay inside outside of the Mistress. Not even their highest ranking religious leaders had the ability to enter this room.
Pushing the gurney in front of her, Mistress walked across the polished loading area floor and she stopped the gurney a few feet from the entrance to the Dungeon of the Gods. Taking a small key out of her pocket, she inserted it into a lock that blended in seamlessly with the door. Twisting the key until she heard a click, she then opened the doors and pushed the gurney inside.
The room beyond was already well lit and had been warmed in preparation for Abby’s defiance. Wasting little time, she began to undo the buttons of Abby’s dress until the last clasp fell away and she slipped the petite woman out of her clothes. Panties and bra soon followed. She admired Abby’s body for a moment. ‘I cannot believe she has had a child and she is 18 already’ she thinks to herself. Abby did not have any weight in herself for her age and her petite body had surprisingly large and supple breasts. Her belly could be firmer but the small amount of pudge would make the ordeal that was to follow so much more excruciating.
She looked around the room ‘but where to put you.’ She knew the ancient laws that where Abby began is where she would finish. The laws do not allow for the transferring of the victim after the initial torture begins. However, the Mistress has not forsaken her old name and been promoted to this position for nothing. She had the terrible talent of identifying, without touching a victim, where the worst spots will be. Where the true weaknesses lie.
She considered the stocks and pillar but decided against it ‘not accessible enough.’ Next was the wheel, she glanced at Abby ‘her belly would look very attractive but it would hinder some of my more intimate torments so no.’ The next restraint brought a smile to her face. ‘Yessssss.’ She walked back to Abby and picked up her still sleeping form. She walked her over and gently set her down in a padded black leather chair. However, the chair was not a normal chair by any means. The chair was twice as wide across the back as a normal chair and it did not possess a seat. Instead, the body of Abby was forced into a 70 degree angle. A thick leather belt, padded for comfort, was wrapped around her rib cage directly under her breasts. Once the Mistress was sure Abby was secure, she took her arms one at a time and secured them to metal limbs that sprouted from the back of the chair immobilizing her arms at the elbow, wrist, and 3 inches to the right or left of the underarm dependent on the arm. Lastly, she secured both Abby’s legs to similar limbs that rose up from the floor. The difference was these limbs only secured her ankle, below her knee and above her knee. This left easy access to her belly, ass, and genitals with very little allowed mobility.
Once secured, the Mistress admired Abby’s still form and the amount of exposure she had to Abby’s body. ‘Limitless. Simply limitless’ with another smile she begins to search the cabinets for the tools she wants. Many of these “instruments” were ancient and irreplaceable for what they did. She grabbed two small vibrators out of one cabinet, 4 mini vibrators out of another, and lastly she grabbed the “punisher” as she had dubbed it. A metal unit attached to a rod. The unit housed a multi speed motor. When the motor was powered up, the rod would thrust forward and back at dictated speed as controlled by the Mistress. To finish the machine, she reached in a small cabinet and grabbed a replica of make genitalia. She screwed it into the rod and slowly dragged the heavy machinery over to Abby but still well enough away to give her fluid access to Abby until the machine was needed.
The rest of her items were fairly standard. Baby oil, medical tape, feathers, brushes, and various other tools of her trade as a Mistress of them bringers. Lastly though, she rummaged around and found her favorites. An old leather blindfold and a rubber ball connected to 2 leather straps that she loved to use to take away her victims speech. A few steps found her putting the blindfold on Abby but she left the ball gag loosely clasped on Abby’s neck. ‘Have to follow protocol after all. Need to give her one last chance to repent of this decision. But I do believe she has slept enough. Time to wake her.’
Reaching out to her, the Mistress slowly caresses Abby’s cheek and neck. Running one manicured nail up and down, shortly followed by another. It took about 40 seconds before she noticed the sleeping injection wearing off from the touch.
It started with a twitch and the attempt of Abby to move her limbs. Followed by puffy eyes trying to force their way open, only to be enveloped in darkness. Once most of Abby’s cognitive abilities return, the light struggles came with bone jarring thrusts and bucks.Regardless, the restraints held her fast with minimal wear or tear outside of the acoustics of a struggle. Finally, her struggles ceased. Her mouth open slightly and face red from the excursion of her attempted break out.
The Mistress smiled, her blood beginning to quicken, “well I’m glad to see you are awake.” She stroked Abby’s neck one last time even as Abby opened her mouth to speak. “Shhhh don’t say anything. You say the wrong word and all of this ends and you don’t get your daughter back. Only speak when spoken to in this place. And I do welcome you to the dungeon of the gods. As it is dictated, your cloths have been removed for the upcoming ceremony and you have been placed in the restraints as the gods led me. Now the only question you must answered is have you given up on this foolish quest and defiance against the gods?”
Abby’s jaw worked slowly but finally the Mistress heard the word she was hoping to hear, “No.” With a grin most unholy, she whispers in Abby’s ear “let us begin then. You will not win this.” One quick jerk found the gag in Abby’s mouth, the Mistress stood and walked over to a small metal tray she had set up 2 feet from Abby ‘time to warm her up’ she thought while grabbing a thin blue feather. Sitting down in between Abby’s legs, she allowed the feather to trace Abby’s belly button causing her body to shudder and jerk from the unexpected sensation ‘what a perfect jackpot to begin with.’ Though she could not hear Abby’s giggles yet, the Mistress knew true torment was the long game not a sprint. She was quite content to dance this around Abby’s deep belly button. A twirl here and a flick of the feather there. Not enough content to even remotely illicit true ticklish torment but just enough to allow Abby’s mind to realize the torment that lay in her future. To begin the mindfuck of this sadistic game the Mistress was already beginning. A game of which she was a true master and Abby was but a beginner about to realize how she was so in over her head.
After tormenting Abby’s belly button for 3 minutes as well as creating a few giggles here and there, Mistress decided another feather was required. Returning to the tray, she found an exact duplicate of the feather she already possessed but this time she grabbed a chair and placed it behind Abby. Taking a seat, she slowly grazed both of Abby’s smooth white underarms. She only allowed the thinnest part of the tip to dance slowly and teasingly in circle after small circle. The soft feathers causing the first stream of giggles from Abby’s lips in a steady cascade. Every teasing touch caused the giggles to rise in pitch but never quite allowing the full release of hearty laughter. Just the humiliation of girlish giggles coming out from behind a gag. The Mistress could see Abby trying to escape as her arms flexed and her hands grasped at straps they could not reach. Mistress always loved it when her victims finally attempted a futile escape. She loved to reward them for their failed efforts as well. To truly show them how little power they had.
With one final flick, she ended the past 4 minutes of torment for Abby. She enjoyed the shuddering breaths that came with the reprieve she allowed Abby as well as the trembling that was beginning to overtake her victims body. ‘Sightlessness always brings deliciousness to the torment of the body.’ She took a seat once again in front of Abby but this time with a different goal in mind. Raising both feathers, she slowly lowered them upon Abby’s breasts. She allowed the midshaft of each feather to envelope Abby’s breasts as she slowly sawed them back and forth. As she had predicted, the feathers did not produce a ticklish affect, as they did with some subjects, but rather created an erotic range of feelings. It took mere seconds for Abby’s breasts to stiffen under the soft caress of the feathers but Mistress did not stop there. She wanted to make sure Abby truly realized what it meant to have her body at the mercy of the gods.
With skilled familiarity, she continued to slowly saw the feathers up and down Abby’s breasts without pause or respite. The first 2 minutes saw the breasts harden to a tip. The next several minutes saw Abby begin to attempt to slowly shift uncomfortably from left to right but the restraints prevented any substantial movement and the feathers showed no mercy. Come the 15 minute of breast feathering, Abby’s breathing came out in quick gasps and small grunts and moans were escaping from behind her gag.
The Mistress could tell Abby was visibly wet, at this point, but she had no intention of satisfying her at this time. Instead, she stopped the feathering of Abby’s breasts and set the feather down. Slowly, she moved forward until she wrapped her lips around one of Abby’s hard nipples and slowly sucked and ran her tongue up and down it’s tip. Abby’s body attempting to rear up from the pleasure cascading on her but the Mistress did not allow it to last long. While her mouth worked over Abby’s breasts, one right after the other, her hands slowly began to stroke up and down Abby’s soft underarms. Her shapely nails dances a soft waltz across the exposed flesh and soon the moans of pleasure became the first explosions of true laughter. Each nail stroked up and down, from side to side or in small circles driving Abby to a maddening ticklish crescendo.
‘Awww the pooorr baby.’ Mistress thinks time herself as she begins to run her wiggling fingers down to Abby’a ribs before dancing them but up to her soft underarms. ‘Gods above these breasts feel amazing and her soft underarms are heaven. She will break but maybe I’ll have some more fun first.’ With every second Abby’s muffled screams and shrieks rose in terror and lust. They bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the chamber but Mistress offered no quarter or mercy only torture. After 10 minutes of relentless teasing and tickling, Mistress finally decided it was time for a break. She slowed her fingers down to a small crawl still eliciting giggles and guffaws that the gag could not hide. Once she saw Abby’s heaving lunge slowly return back to normal, she stood up and walked back to the tray. With a wicked smile, she thinks ‘time to take this up a notch.’ as she reaches for the baby oil and hairbrush.
https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?318935-The-age-of-laughter-background-(no-tickling)
Hope you all enjoy the 5000 plus words. Part 3 will take me a while but make no mistake it’s on its way!!!
The Alshown wasted no time in the creation of their utopia and for 10 years they ruled with absolute power and devotion. The gods took sustenance from those women gifted with a life as a servant within the church while others loved, married, and had children.
However as all things, peace cannot last without sacrifice. As another time of Harvest approached. Hundreds of 17 year old girls stayed up late praying to the gods to allow them to serve as they willed. Some wept and others laughed. Yet, they all could feel the stirring of fear. The fear of being a giver to the gods. The fear of never leaving the church to be trapped in whatever fate awaited those in the dungeons of the cathedral.
Yet, the fear only crippled one. Her name was Monique and something in her heart told her that such a fate awaited her within the church. While most prayed, Monique was spending the night with her entire 5 foot frame curled up on the arms of her mother weeping. Monique’s dark hair fell around her in well kept clumps and her ivory skin shown in the candlelight of the room.
Her mother tried to comfort her. She spoke soothing words of the gods over her and held her close. Many knew her mother only as Ms. Preston, a strong independent woman, whose husband died during a building accident within the city. Many did not know that her first name was Abby or that she hated the city and it’s rule. Even more were not aware, she would do anything to protect her daughter from the fate of a giver. But for tonight, she only held her daughter close and tried her best to drive the demons of fear away from her. Morning would come soon and then the entire city would know the fate her daughter would meet. With a trembling breath, she realized her daughter had finally fallen and she willingly went to join her into the bliss of dreams.
-Collection Day
Morning came all too soon for Abby and Monique, they both awoke and looked at one another for what could be the last time. Abby could not help but feel a swell of pride at the beauty of her daughter even with eyes puffy with sleep. Her dark hair, long lashes, and piercing blue eyes all stared at her mother as those of a ghost or one soon to be a ghost. Overcome with emotion she wraps her arms around her daughter again whispering in her ear “you are going to look amazing today.”
Monique gives her mother a sad smile. Pink lips creased in fear and pride at her mother’s words. She slides off of the bed without a word. She feared what words could bring to her mother and herself. Instead, she headed into their washroom and undressed. She prepared herself in ways she never had before as dictated by the church. Every nail was trimmed, all excess body hair removed, and the ointment given to each girl for this moment rubbed generously into every last inch of her body. Once completed, she came out of the bathroom to find the white dress and blouse top specifically mandated for all those about to be sorted. The outfit was snug on her form and showed her natural curves gifted to her through genetics and a purposeful workout and training routine encouraged by all for any young woman who may serve within the church.
She stopped to admire herself in the mirror and twirled slightly causing the knee high dress to flutter. She stared at herself and once again had to hold back the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes. She slowly slid to her knees and once again muttered prayer after prayer to the gods. Prayers of strength and acceptance. Fear and bravery. She remained supplicant till a light knock resounded off of her mother’s front door. The security detail from the church was finally making their rounds to collect each girl for the sorting and to prevent any confusion or foul play from family members.
Blinking away tears and putting on a plastic smile, Monique walked down the stairs to her front door. Opening the door, she was greeted by a man in all white holding a clipboard. He glances up at her from behind a dark mask designed for protection and range of visions, “Monique Preston?” She nods, a motion she barely registers as butterflies take flight in her stomach and shackles take over her limbs.
“Please come with me.” He instructs. Turning briskly, he does not cast a look back her way. Such was the power of a church collector. No one would refuse him and all knew he would speak a second time.
With a deep shuddering breath, Monique walks out of her house. No heartfelt goodbyes to her mother. Not even a look, as she prepared to give herself to the church. A large domed vehicle on the central rail that ran to the church awaited her. It’s crisp white paint and windowless carriage reminded her of the old vehicles used to herd cattle prior to the apocalypse that shook the world. She had never seen one of course but some of the literature survived and they were devoured by many curious men and women like herself.
Her thoughts were soon dashed aside as the back of the transport opened revealing 16 or so girls all sitting in neat rows. None of them said a word when she entered. None of them even met her gaze as she walked to the one last vacant seat near the front of the vehicle. Sitting down and pulling her dress around her, she shut her eyes and communed with the gods.
The entire ride occurred in silence. Not one girl spoke and not one even moved. The entire car has heads bowed and eyes closed in supplication. They would have remained this way, if not for the lurch signifying the stop of the vehicle. Monique was almost flung out of her seat but she planted her feet to steady herself as many other of the girls did.
A small hiss sound escapes the entry hatch as it once again opened and one by one the girls marched into an empty docking area. White walls lined the inside of the dock and signs pointed them to their destination.
Monique followed the other girls along the white walls and shiny floors to a small oaken door. As if anticipating their approach, the door swung open revealing a massive area of worship.
Pews lined the bottom floor in white upholstery. White walls arched to a narrow steeple that oversaw and often projected voice messages to the community from the ministers of the church. Levels upon levels of balconies stretched up until it was impossible to tell how many could be seated and yet, with all the room and beauty, a deathly silence hung over the girls being ushered in. The small pat of there feet or shoes echoed in a silent voice as they were led to the forefront of the church. No one occupies the pews and no one stood before them. However, each would be judged silently by the gods of their people. Each girl kneeled and continued their supplication to the gods. Willing for a feeling and direction to their purpose.
Monique was the 28th girl to drop to her knees in supplication. ‘Please my lords guide me and direct me with your pleasure. Where is it that you need me? Where can I serve you best? My body is a temple for your glory and honor. I submit myself to your guidance and will. Please take me as an offering holy and for your uses.’ No sooner had she finished her mindful prayer then her mind felt a pull.
It started with a minor tickle of the brain and slowly grew until her limbs began to move on their own though her eyes were still shut. Step by step she moved. First she stood up and then taking one step out of line began to walk to the left. She had taken 20 steps before she finally opened her eyes to see the line of girls slowly fading behind her. A dark oaken door stood before her and with trembling hands she reached out and forced the door open.
A blast of warm air hit her face. Torches hung on the walls illuminating a staircase spiraling downward beyond her vision. The stairwell seemed to call to her as she slipped off her snarled and took her first step on the grey smooth stones. Her white feet felt cool as they descended deeper and deeper under the church. The descent only lasted for a minute but, with every step, Monique’s desire to reach the bottom grew. Something or someone had fully taken over her mind and desires. The gods she hoped, though she could not be sure.
Once the stair levels out, she found herself in a well lit, via torchlight, room with 5 chairs. No one was present and with little else to do her body moved to the first chair before taking a seat. 5 minutes passed before a door creaked open from across the room. A door made to be hidden. One that blended perfectly with the dark grey stone around her. A masked individual came out and without a word approached her.
Her eyes searched the body but nothing threatening presented herself. In fact, to her surprise, she noticed the body was that of a woman. Soon the woman stood before her and the masked woman offered her a hand stretched palm outward. With a gasp Monique recognized the ancient form of greeting from ages long gone. Standing, she took the woman’s hand and offered it a small shake. The woman’s green eyes drove into her soul as they shook hands before Monique, unnerved by the woman’s gaze, broke the contact.
A soft voice spoke from behind the mask, “they have called you to give yourself for their glory. Will you answer the call?”
In a voice not quite her own, Monique replied “unto their will I submit myself and their call I have answered.”
With a curt nod, the masked figure pulled out a set of restrains made to keep the wrists of the individual immobilized behind the back. “Will you submit yourself to the sustenance of the gods?” She undid both restraints and held them out to Monique.
“Yes I take upon myself the bonds of service and submit myself as sustenance to the gods in whatever needs they have.” Monique slipped her wrist into one of the restraints. She clipped it around her small wrists and then held her hands behind her back until the masked woman slowly walked around her and secured her other wrist.
The woman took ahold of Monique’s smooth right arm “follow me into your new service.” As she spoke the door slowly swung open again revealing a long hallway ending in another door. “We will notify your mother of the gods decision for your life and your acceptance of their divine will.”
Monique nodded while allowing herself to be led into the hallway. Past the door that led to freedom. To her old life. With a shaky sigh, she looked ahead even as the door ahead of her was opened and two figures stepped out. Each grabbed a different arm of Monique and together they led her down two more hallways and finally a flight of stairs.
At the base of the stairs, a small series of cell doors sat. She was led to the first. A small room with a cot in the corner and food on a table. A small door in the corner led to what she assumed was the wash room. Her wrists were uncuffed and both women turned to her. “Here you will be kept until we gain word from your mother that she accepts the will of the gods. Until such a time as we have confirmation, you will remain here untouched and unspoilt. If you need for or drink, you only need to ring this bell.” The woman on the left procured a small bell out of her pocket and handed it to Monique. “Please enjoy this time as much as you can. Little rest is given to those once their service to the gods begin. We cannot answer any questions you may have as secrets cannot be shared to those still awaiting confirmation. We will pray to the gods for your body and soul.” With a small bow, both left the cell room leaving Monique both terrified and curious if her new life. She sat at the table and once again shut her eyes to pray for understanding for her mother and that her mother would accept the will of the gods. It was in this position, sleep finally found her and took her away from the room. Took her to a place no one could touch her. The tranquility of dreams.
Abby Prestons Decision
Abby, monique’s, lay on her bed weeping into her pillow. Fear thundered through her as she awaited the fate of her daughter. She had prayed to the gods until she was sure they were no longer listening. She had screamed at the sky until her voice was hoarse and all she could do now was weep to release the tension.
Her pillows and bed sheet was slick with tears when she heard a rap on the door. Hope seized her briefly, a fickle mistress reminding her that her daughter had returned. However, she saw a white church vehicle on the train cable outside her home, dispelling any hope that Monique had returned.
She opened the door quietly to two men in white uniforms. She looked them up and down but did not speak a word. Instead, she allowed them to shift nervously from one foot to the next till the younger looking of the two reached out an enveloped letter to her. With a small, almost sad, smile he turned with his partner back to their transport.
She did not allow them the luxury of leaving. “I know what this means.” The men slowly turned upon hearing her voice. Both with head downcast staring at the ground and not making eye contact. “She has been chosen hasn’t she. I mean why not. An amazingly pius girl like her, the gods know who to choose and why but it does not mean I have to accept it.” She turned and slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed her coat. “I will have a word with the bishop if you don’t mind.” Without waiting for their response, she walked past them and waited for them to open the back of the transport.
Both men stood frozen in shock for a moment. They had never heard of anyone regarding the letter in such a way. Most broke down in tears upon receiving it instead of their daughter. But, to his credit, the youngest sprung into action. He took his partner by the arm and steered him back to the vehicle before pressing a button to open the holding area. Once he was sure MS. Preston had entered, he closed the doors and powered the transport to return to the church. ‘What a day for the bishop’ he thought to himself. ‘Hope he does not blame us for this woman’s intrusion.’
The Bishop
The Bishop that Ms. Preston was on her way to meet, could not have less prepared for the strangely calm visitor, who showed up to his office and let herself in. The Bishop’s name was Daniel, not that anyone ever cared to ask, and he was 58 years old. He had been part of the original uprising of the monks so many years ago during the civil war. Since then he had come to enjoy the power and constancy his position brought. One of which was, he would have no visitors the day if the reaping as all the mothers and fathers would be too busy celebrating the return of a daughter or grieving the loss of one. Yet this middle aged woman was challenging the best of his expectations concerning a grieving mother.
After the initial shock of her arrival, the Bishop quickly took his seat and prayed with the woman. He had implored the gods to give her a spirit of acceptance and the courage to face life knowing her daughter was serving the gods. He wove a tapestry of beautiful words around the woman and he silently applauded himself for the defusal of the situation. Or so he thought.
As the last of his words fell from the ceiling back to the floor, the woman introduced herself. “Hello Bishop. I thank you for that prayer but I did not come here today to pray. My name is Abby Preston and the gods have called my daughter to serve them as a giver. Her name is Monique and she is all I have. She is pious and selfless and I am not surprised the gods chose her as a vessel for their service. Some part of me even feels pride in their decision. However, I cannot accept her fate. I am a pious woman, Bishop but I cannot sit by as my daughter is taken from me. I know the laws of the church and I will invoke them. I invoke the challenge of the gods. My prize is the body and soul of my daughter. My offer is my body and soul for the gods sustenance should I fail. As it is written, any woman strong enough to survive 2 days in the gods dungeon will be blessed and sainted in their sight. She shall be given that which she desires and will depart in peace and safety from the church. However, for the woman who fails nothing but suffering awaits her and only the offering of her body will redeem her in the eyes of the gods.” Abby’s gaze bored into the eyes of the Bishop as she spoke.
With a small sigh ‘why did this have to happen today,’ he opened the Tome of Knowledge which included every law and edict in the church. Finding the rules Abby was invoking, he turned to her. “You know there is no going back once I call in the Mistress of the Bringers?” Abby nods her head. “Though I would caution you otherwise, I will honor your wishes.” Moving to the door, he barked “Alyssa. Come here.” A thick large breasted woman with mousy brown hair came into view. “Yes Father Bishop?” She inquires.
The Bishop hands her a premade parchment of paper. “Take this to the Mistress of the Bringers. Tell her it is urgent and must begin today. IMMEDIATELY.” The woman paled, “are you not sure someone else would make a better messenger. After all, she hates to be disturbed during this time of day and sometimes her summoning comes with consequences.” She trembles everso slightly.
The Bishop sighs before handing her a small seal. “Take this and show it to her. She will not touch you if she knows you are my personal messenger. Now go.”
The woman turns and walks on trembling legs out of view. Abby could not be sure but she swore she heard trembling prayers muttered for safety and protection. The Bishop sat back down, “nothing to do now but wait for her arrival. I would invite you to join me in prayer to the gods for the upcoming ordeal. That their will would be done.” He bowed his head and his mouth moved in silent supplication. With a small shrug, Abby joined in as well but instead of praying for herself she begged that the gods would keep her daughter safe so she could see her again one day.
Around 45 minutes passed in complete silence for Abby, until she heard the patter of feet outside the door. The sound of feet that knew they were important and did not mind letting others know they were on their way. A loud rap on the door fully announced the visitor and the bishop said, “come in” without opening his eyes.
The dark oak door swung inward and Abby could barely hide her surprise at the woman who entered. She stood about 5 foot 10 or so with dark black hair that was covered by a black mask. Her white teeth shined slightly as she strode in with a grin and long neatly manicured nails were atop her hands. A soft voice came out of her “hello David. Your pretty little assistant told me this matter was of great urgency? I hope for her sake it is. Some of my trainees are currently entertaining her until I could get the entire story. Nothing permanent of course just something to take the starch out of her. Making sure she stops flashing that badge and all that.” She took a seat near the Bishop before glancing at Abby. “It’s not her is it?” She points briskly at Abby.
With another heavy sigh, the Bishop glanced at the woman who entered. “I see time has not calmed you Mistress. While the gods make use of your energy I’m sure my assistant is not one in the menu for the gods so I would request your cooperation in releasing her. As for the matter at hand, yes she is the cause of this intrusion. Her daughter was selected as a giver this morning and she has declared the challenge of the gods. I see no reason to deny her though I counseled her otherwise. She is quite insistent. She knows what fate awaits her should she revoke the challenge as well.” He looks at the Mistress intently. “As the laws decree you two cannot speak until she is in the dungeon of the gods. I expect you to uphold this unlike the other times where you have attempted to break protocol as this matter is of grave importance.”
He motioned the Mistress over to a paper he has created before beginning his earlier prayers. “This is the name of her daughter as well as her family tree etc etc. please make sure your bringers make sure to observe proper etiquette for this situation concerning her daughter.”
The Mistress smiled a toothy grin. “It would be my pleasure to serve the gods in this way considering it has been at least 30 years since anyone challenged a ruling in this manner. As for your pretty assistant, I will allow her to leave if she wants too. And since when have I been anything but professional in my years of service.” She rises out of the chair. “I will have the dungeon prepared and will send two apprentices to bring her down when we are ready. Until then, if you could have her wait in the foyer, I would greatly appreciate it.”
She waltzed out the door without waiting for acknowledgement not even bothering to close it. The Bishop watched her leave before turning to Abby “this is her show now. Please go wait in the foyer and prepare yourself for what the gods have awaiting you.” He turned away from her and knelt on his knees in prayer.
Abby took this as a sign for her to exit and she left the office quickly. Her thoughts whirled with questions she knew would not be answered until her trial began so onward she walked to the foyer. The open area was deserted so she sat in a soft red chair matching the upholstery of the floors. Silence was heavy in the air so she grabbed some of the churches literature to pass the time. She read articles on the suffering and pain of those living beyond the city as well as the latest food recipes to feed a family with the rations provided by the church. It was far from an engrossing read but helped take her mind off of current events.
Before she was fully ready, Abby heard the soft patter of feet walking across the foyers red carpet. With a small breath, she looked up and saw two female figures clad in black, much like their mistress was. They did not say a word as they approached and when they were a few feet from her, the one on the right motioned for her to follow. Abby slowly rose from her chair and followed both women out of the foyer, down two side hallways and finally to an oak door. The women reached out and pushed the door open before motioning her inside. Abby walked past both of them as she entered a dimly lit room where neither woman moved to follow. The doors were closed with a resounding boom leaving Abby quite alone.
The room she found herself in was dimly lit by 3 overhead lights but she could make out chairs sitting just outside of the lights touch. Wasting little time, she moved to the chairs and took a seat in the dim darkness. She did not have anything to read or occupy herself with in this extremely empty room so she twiddled her thumbs and clasps and unclasped her hands together. ‘Is this where they first took my daughter’ she wonders.
However, a voice suddenly floats upon the air, “so you have chosen to go through with your defiance of the gods will. It has been many years since I’ve had a rebel in here. Mainly I only get to play with spies or rebels and the like. Maybe a disobedient Bringer from time to time.” The Mistress slowly strides into the dim lighting still dressed in all black. In her right hand, she held a set of white clothes that she tossed to Abby. “Put these on. The white symbolizes the purity of heart any facing the gods must have to survive or so the bishops tell me. Not that any of them have ever been down here before. They are quite content to run the city from their lit offices and leave the acts in the darkness to us. A necessary evil I suppose.” She turns to give Abby privacy for change.
“Though, I don’t suppose any of those leaders would ever really want to see what goes on down here for fear that their concept of the gods would be forever altered. The cross we Bringers must bear.” She turns back to see Abby in the tight fitting dress the church provided for just these occasions. “Does it fit well?”
Abby rotates her bare arms and walks forward then back. “It fits surprisingly well thank you. But why all the buttons?” She points to the 8 buttons running from the crotch of the dress to her neck. “It was a pain to put on and snap.”
The Mistress smiles lightly, “the edict of the gods say so and that is good enough for me.” Now please follow me.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed deeper into the darkness. Abby quickly followed, barely able to track the Mistress’ shadow, until the Mistress opened a door blending perfectly with the wall. Light poured out of the room and Abby squinted her eyes at the sudden radiance. She could not see the room beyond the light and her eyes had yet to adjust but she followed the Mistress into the hidden room out of the desire to save her daughter.
Her eyes never had time to discuss. As soon as she entered the room, she felt a small prick in her right arm and the world slowly went black. She fell with a small sigh and the Mistress caught her. “As it is written the one standing in defiance cannot know the location of her punishment nor the manner in which it will occur. She will awaken in the chamber of the gods and her world will become one that she never knew existed.” She finished her recitation before setting Abby’s body on a gurney and slowly pushing it into a large mobile box that the old world called an elevator.
Down and down they traveled. Past the holding cells for the new givers, where Monique still awaited her fate to be decided. Past the halls of torment and the interrogation floors where the veteran bringers worked their craft against spies and insurrectionists. Past the living quarters for the givers till they finally reached a floor with no label or header. A floor strictly held for the Mistress herself.
With a small ding, the elevator door opened into a small loading bag that ended in a large soundproof metal door. This area was only reserved for the most stubborn spies or those who challenged the edict of the gods. None knew what lay inside outside of the Mistress. Not even their highest ranking religious leaders had the ability to enter this room.
Pushing the gurney in front of her, Mistress walked across the polished loading area floor and she stopped the gurney a few feet from the entrance to the Dungeon of the Gods. Taking a small key out of her pocket, she inserted it into a lock that blended in seamlessly with the door. Twisting the key until she heard a click, she then opened the doors and pushed the gurney inside.
The room beyond was already well lit and had been warmed in preparation for Abby’s defiance. Wasting little time, she began to undo the buttons of Abby’s dress until the last clasp fell away and she slipped the petite woman out of her clothes. Panties and bra soon followed. She admired Abby’s body for a moment. ‘I cannot believe she has had a child and she is 18 already’ she thinks to herself. Abby did not have any weight in herself for her age and her petite body had surprisingly large and supple breasts. Her belly could be firmer but the small amount of pudge would make the ordeal that was to follow so much more excruciating.
She looked around the room ‘but where to put you.’ She knew the ancient laws that where Abby began is where she would finish. The laws do not allow for the transferring of the victim after the initial torture begins. However, the Mistress has not forsaken her old name and been promoted to this position for nothing. She had the terrible talent of identifying, without touching a victim, where the worst spots will be. Where the true weaknesses lie.
She considered the stocks and pillar but decided against it ‘not accessible enough.’ Next was the wheel, she glanced at Abby ‘her belly would look very attractive but it would hinder some of my more intimate torments so no.’ The next restraint brought a smile to her face. ‘Yessssss.’ She walked back to Abby and picked up her still sleeping form. She walked her over and gently set her down in a padded black leather chair. However, the chair was not a normal chair by any means. The chair was twice as wide across the back as a normal chair and it did not possess a seat. Instead, the body of Abby was forced into a 70 degree angle. A thick leather belt, padded for comfort, was wrapped around her rib cage directly under her breasts. Once the Mistress was sure Abby was secure, she took her arms one at a time and secured them to metal limbs that sprouted from the back of the chair immobilizing her arms at the elbow, wrist, and 3 inches to the right or left of the underarm dependent on the arm. Lastly, she secured both Abby’s legs to similar limbs that rose up from the floor. The difference was these limbs only secured her ankle, below her knee and above her knee. This left easy access to her belly, ass, and genitals with very little allowed mobility.
Once secured, the Mistress admired Abby’s still form and the amount of exposure she had to Abby’s body. ‘Limitless. Simply limitless’ with another smile she begins to search the cabinets for the tools she wants. Many of these “instruments” were ancient and irreplaceable for what they did. She grabbed two small vibrators out of one cabinet, 4 mini vibrators out of another, and lastly she grabbed the “punisher” as she had dubbed it. A metal unit attached to a rod. The unit housed a multi speed motor. When the motor was powered up, the rod would thrust forward and back at dictated speed as controlled by the Mistress. To finish the machine, she reached in a small cabinet and grabbed a replica of make genitalia. She screwed it into the rod and slowly dragged the heavy machinery over to Abby but still well enough away to give her fluid access to Abby until the machine was needed.
The rest of her items were fairly standard. Baby oil, medical tape, feathers, brushes, and various other tools of her trade as a Mistress of them bringers. Lastly though, she rummaged around and found her favorites. An old leather blindfold and a rubber ball connected to 2 leather straps that she loved to use to take away her victims speech. A few steps found her putting the blindfold on Abby but she left the ball gag loosely clasped on Abby’s neck. ‘Have to follow protocol after all. Need to give her one last chance to repent of this decision. But I do believe she has slept enough. Time to wake her.’
Reaching out to her, the Mistress slowly caresses Abby’s cheek and neck. Running one manicured nail up and down, shortly followed by another. It took about 40 seconds before she noticed the sleeping injection wearing off from the touch.
It started with a twitch and the attempt of Abby to move her limbs. Followed by puffy eyes trying to force their way open, only to be enveloped in darkness. Once most of Abby’s cognitive abilities return, the light struggles came with bone jarring thrusts and bucks.Regardless, the restraints held her fast with minimal wear or tear outside of the acoustics of a struggle. Finally, her struggles ceased. Her mouth open slightly and face red from the excursion of her attempted break out.
The Mistress smiled, her blood beginning to quicken, “well I’m glad to see you are awake.” She stroked Abby’s neck one last time even as Abby opened her mouth to speak. “Shhhh don’t say anything. You say the wrong word and all of this ends and you don’t get your daughter back. Only speak when spoken to in this place. And I do welcome you to the dungeon of the gods. As it is dictated, your cloths have been removed for the upcoming ceremony and you have been placed in the restraints as the gods led me. Now the only question you must answered is have you given up on this foolish quest and defiance against the gods?”
Abby’s jaw worked slowly but finally the Mistress heard the word she was hoping to hear, “No.” With a grin most unholy, she whispers in Abby’s ear “let us begin then. You will not win this.” One quick jerk found the gag in Abby’s mouth, the Mistress stood and walked over to a small metal tray she had set up 2 feet from Abby ‘time to warm her up’ she thought while grabbing a thin blue feather. Sitting down in between Abby’s legs, she allowed the feather to trace Abby’s belly button causing her body to shudder and jerk from the unexpected sensation ‘what a perfect jackpot to begin with.’ Though she could not hear Abby’s giggles yet, the Mistress knew true torment was the long game not a sprint. She was quite content to dance this around Abby’s deep belly button. A twirl here and a flick of the feather there. Not enough content to even remotely illicit true ticklish torment but just enough to allow Abby’s mind to realize the torment that lay in her future. To begin the mindfuck of this sadistic game the Mistress was already beginning. A game of which she was a true master and Abby was but a beginner about to realize how she was so in over her head.
After tormenting Abby’s belly button for 3 minutes as well as creating a few giggles here and there, Mistress decided another feather was required. Returning to the tray, she found an exact duplicate of the feather she already possessed but this time she grabbed a chair and placed it behind Abby. Taking a seat, she slowly grazed both of Abby’s smooth white underarms. She only allowed the thinnest part of the tip to dance slowly and teasingly in circle after small circle. The soft feathers causing the first stream of giggles from Abby’s lips in a steady cascade. Every teasing touch caused the giggles to rise in pitch but never quite allowing the full release of hearty laughter. Just the humiliation of girlish giggles coming out from behind a gag. The Mistress could see Abby trying to escape as her arms flexed and her hands grasped at straps they could not reach. Mistress always loved it when her victims finally attempted a futile escape. She loved to reward them for their failed efforts as well. To truly show them how little power they had.
With one final flick, she ended the past 4 minutes of torment for Abby. She enjoyed the shuddering breaths that came with the reprieve she allowed Abby as well as the trembling that was beginning to overtake her victims body. ‘Sightlessness always brings deliciousness to the torment of the body.’ She took a seat once again in front of Abby but this time with a different goal in mind. Raising both feathers, she slowly lowered them upon Abby’s breasts. She allowed the midshaft of each feather to envelope Abby’s breasts as she slowly sawed them back and forth. As she had predicted, the feathers did not produce a ticklish affect, as they did with some subjects, but rather created an erotic range of feelings. It took mere seconds for Abby’s breasts to stiffen under the soft caress of the feathers but Mistress did not stop there. She wanted to make sure Abby truly realized what it meant to have her body at the mercy of the gods.
With skilled familiarity, she continued to slowly saw the feathers up and down Abby’s breasts without pause or respite. The first 2 minutes saw the breasts harden to a tip. The next several minutes saw Abby begin to attempt to slowly shift uncomfortably from left to right but the restraints prevented any substantial movement and the feathers showed no mercy. Come the 15 minute of breast feathering, Abby’s breathing came out in quick gasps and small grunts and moans were escaping from behind her gag.
The Mistress could tell Abby was visibly wet, at this point, but she had no intention of satisfying her at this time. Instead, she stopped the feathering of Abby’s breasts and set the feather down. Slowly, she moved forward until she wrapped her lips around one of Abby’s hard nipples and slowly sucked and ran her tongue up and down it’s tip. Abby’s body attempting to rear up from the pleasure cascading on her but the Mistress did not allow it to last long. While her mouth worked over Abby’s breasts, one right after the other, her hands slowly began to stroke up and down Abby’s soft underarms. Her shapely nails dances a soft waltz across the exposed flesh and soon the moans of pleasure became the first explosions of true laughter. Each nail stroked up and down, from side to side or in small circles driving Abby to a maddening ticklish crescendo.
‘Awww the pooorr baby.’ Mistress thinks time herself as she begins to run her wiggling fingers down to Abby’a ribs before dancing them but up to her soft underarms. ‘Gods above these breasts feel amazing and her soft underarms are heaven. She will break but maybe I’ll have some more fun first.’ With every second Abby’s muffled screams and shrieks rose in terror and lust. They bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the chamber but Mistress offered no quarter or mercy only torture. After 10 minutes of relentless teasing and tickling, Mistress finally decided it was time for a break. She slowed her fingers down to a small crawl still eliciting giggles and guffaws that the gag could not hide. Once she saw Abby’s heaving lunge slowly return back to normal, she stood up and walked back to the tray. With a wicked smile, she thinks ‘time to take this up a notch.’ as she reaches for the baby oil and hairbrush.
