tickles_me
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Subject line says it all. Sorry for the lame title but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
The Devil’s Boxes
2019
Part I: The Capture
Aerik thought he was prepared for the attack when it came. The five of them rode slowly through the brush of a suspiciously quiet forest, armed and alert. Thousand-year-old trees towered above them, gnarly limbs and curtains of thick vines rising into the dark canopy. No birds sang; Aerik saw no shuffling wildlife. The horses snorted and their ears swiveled.
Four elite soldiers had volunteered to protect him with their lives, and Aerik himself was a decorated war veteran. He had sired children all over the kingdom by women who had welcomed him back from war after victorious war - they wanted royal warrior blood in their future stock. The four others had fought alongside him in battle, and had fathered bastards of their own: they were skilled killers that had devoted their last breath to the throne of Longsword City.
They constituted a formidable defense for the secret that Aerik carried. His father, the King of Longsword City, had ordered that the information be revealed only to Aerik’s uncle, the King of Hartshorn Pass. Each of the five men had volunteered to travel the three days to their neighboring land, and had pledged their lives to see their orders carried out to deliver the message to Prince Aerik’s uncle.
So Aerik was surprised, the most, by his surprise.
Suddenly, one of the horses dropped from under its rider. Then, another. The forest rang with screaming as ropes of thick vines snatched them by their legs and carried them outward into the trees. A whipping wind shook the branches above as the trailing two guards fell, rolling onto their feet with swords raised.
Aerik turned to look behind in time to see two more horses fall - and feel his own beast disappear from under his legs almost simultaneously. He leapt from the saddle and rolled away from the vines as the others had, rolling to his feet.
The two soldiers that had fallen first, Amos and Rand, struggled to remain on their feet, their faces strained and red. Aerik’s brow furrowed, unable to see what caused their distress. They both appeared to struggle to keep their sword arms away from their bodies, as if they wanted to pull their elbows in. Aerik saw nothing touching them. He began to hear grunting and groans from them both, their mouths tightening.
“MMPPHHhh huh huh huh.”
“Huh huh UNNGGGNN RRRrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr!”
The soldier directly behind Aerik stood up then doubled over, clutching his stomach with a cry.
“Gnnnngrrr...GAAHH! AARRGGHH! Huh huh huh!”
The last man glanced around quickly and moved closer to protect Aerik. Within three strides he let out a choked wail and fell to his knees on the forest floor. His arms wrapped around his torso, clutching at his ribs, and he kicked into the dirt beneath him - his mouth opened into a wide, desperate screech.
Over the rustle of leaves and the faded shrieks of startled horses, Aerik heard more muffled grunts, coughs and choked breaths. A long groan ended abruptly in a giggle..
One of the men on Aerik’s right cried out, “No NO NOT THE - PITSSAAARRRGGHH AAHAHAHAHA!”
“HUH HURRNNGGG aha aha rrRRRRRnngggg NO NO DON’T...AAAHHHHH HAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA!”
“NOOAOAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAH STAAAHAHAHP NOOAAHHA!”
“EERRNNGGG HERRRNG HRRRNG HRRRNG HERRRRAAAHAHAHA….RRRRNNGG!”
One by one each soldier let out a clenched protest followed by hearty belly laughter. The men were stumbling and clutching at themselves; they tucked armpits and clenched groins, slapping at their ribs. Two dropped their swords to grab and swat at their legs.
Aerik blinked - sword up and stunned - as it dawned on him that his protective guard was being mercilessly tickled. In less time than it took to shave his face, they had been reduced to squealing, kicking, howling wrecks; hilarious cackling laughter poured from each mighty throat.
As the fourth soldier‘s knees sank into the leaves and dirt below, his helmeted head tossed forward into the ground as he laughed, Aerik turned to run away. This was magic, and magic could not be stopped with his sword - he was vulnerable.
A thick vine shot out beneath him and snapped his ankles together, yanking to flip him upside-down. Aerik shouted in surprise as the vision of his soldiers flipped over: they were sprawled on the ground or curled into balls, kicking and slamming their fists in the dirt as they laughed hysterically. Aerik panted as his sword was ripped from his hand and discarded by a whipped tree limb.
A thick, bald man stepped in front of him as he hung by his ankles; he had been reaching for his belt knife, but froze as the man’s shadow fell across him. Vines wrapped around his arms and pulled them behind his back, looping his wrists together.
“Hello, Aerik,” the man’s voice was deep and threatening. “I understand you are carrying a secret.”
“Who...are you?!” Aerik swung a little as he tilted his chin to peer up from below. The man was shrouded in shadow.
“I am Malkiore, the Grand Wizard of the West Plateau. Perhaps you have heard of me?” The man’s tone was dismissively casual as he reached out and grabbed at the crotch of Aerik’s pants, tugging the fabric off of Aerik’s body.
“Oi! Oi! No, no NO STOP!” Aerik struggled uselessly as the crotch of his pants was slit open. He could swing his body but not enough to deter the Grand Wizard.
He wondered if it mattered whether he made any noise. He had been captured and tortured twice. He had resisted, and been rescued, twice - but he had screamed. He didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t scream, if he wanted, and it hurt enough. There would be no rescue here - were his friends really being tickled? He was incredulous; maybe he had hit his head..
“You haven’t heard of me? That’s too bad. I’ve heard of you,” the wizard drawled.
He reached into the hole in Aerik’s pants and pulled out his small clothes. He slit those open - Aerik could tell by the draft. “I have heard about the secret you carry from your Father to his brother. And I would like you to tell me what it is.”
“I have heard of you,” Aerik snarled. “You murder babes in their beds for their blood. You eat beating hearts. You want me and all my kin to burn.”
The wizard paused to look down at Aerik’s red face. “Is that so? You know so many things.”
A puff of air blew across Aerik’s dick and then a steady, cool hand pulled him out of his pants. His dick flopped against his belt, his balls stretched forward and down. The sensations that followed were unfamiliar to him: some icy cold chills, a pinch up the shaft, followed by light tingling. He was nervous, but he remained quiet.
The wizard continued, “You know something I want to know, quite specifically.” He glanced at Aerik almost coyly. “Of course, I don’t expect you tell me now. You’ve received your orders, I am sure.” He stepped away from Aerik’s dangling body and held out one hand, displaying … Aerik gasped. His dick and balls!
They lay flat against the wizard’s palm, the flaccid penis nestled in its spot between the testicles. Malkiore ran one finger from the tip of the shaft up to his palm - a jolt shot through the prince’s pelvis. Aerik screamed with rage and curled upward, struggling against the solid vines holding his ankles and wrists. He would not be violated without a fight.
Malkiore sneered as he looked down into the prince’s eyes and said, “We will talk again when we arrive. You will have a day or so to think it over.”
With a flick of his wrist, the wizard turned and left. Aerik felt the vines swing him, back and forth, farther and farther - he could see, occasionally, his friends and fellow soldiers, writhing on the ground in the far clearing. They looked as if they still laughed, but he could not hear them; their horses grazed calmly beyond.
Then the vines let go of Aerik, and he saw that he was being tossed into a box. It was too short, and his knees were bent at 90 degrees behind him when he landed on his face. His wide shoulders wedged tight between the walls of the box. He was unable to move his arms; they pressed to his sides. His face smashed into the bottom; he could turn his head to press one cheek or the other to the floor.
The lid slammed closed and his feet were trapped behind him, sticking through holes around his ankles; he could move his legs slightly within the holes and flap his boots. He could not take a deep breath, and his heart began to race. Confinement made his heart race and he could not take a deep breath.
The box tilted and was dragged, clunking in the dirt - he felt it lifted and loaded, bottom scraping, into a cart. Aerik panted; he could not feel his dick pressed under his body, but he could feel it jostle along with a rocking carriage.
Something pulled off his boots and socks. His toes curled.
Part II: Travel
The tickling began immediately. Pointy nails walked from his heels to his toes, up and down the wrinkled soles, up and down, up and down. He tried to kick but his feet just flapped; there was nowhere to go. He panted and groaned, tried to ignore the prickly, tingling feelings along his soles.
The nails began to drag and scratch, and he coughed in the box, fighting the urge to laugh as the tickling heightened. Scratch scratch scratch up to the toes, then skitter skitter scratch all the way down to the heels.
The prince flailed and clenched his toes, flapping his feet. A grin tugged on his face and his lips spat little giggling puffs of air. Laughter filled his belly with hot air as the nails scratched at the balls of his feet and pinched his toe pads. Aerik chuckled smoothly, succumbing to the foot tickling.
The scratching, pinching nails crawled around his arches and onto the tops of his feet, tickling up to his toes and poked gently at the cracks between them. Aerik giggled and kicked his feet, truly hoping to escape the scratches between his toes - they sent jolts of electricity up his legs. The nails raced around to tickle and pinch at the clenched balls of his feet and more laughter escaped his pressed lips.
As the nails danced up and down his soles again, again, and again, the laughter pushed his mouth open to bellow. “mmmMMRRAAWww aaahahahahHAHAHA0 HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
No matter how he tilted his feet, the nails skittered and prickled, tickling the bottoms; the more he tried to escape, the more ticklish his skin felt. The nails danced up his squirming arches and along the wrinkles from his curled toes; they pinched at the littlest toes, pinch pinch pinch. Aerik’s body jumped inside the box as a surprised gasp and gutteral laughter poured out of him.
As he drew a breath amidst the laughter, Aerik felt fingertips pressing into his armpits and wiggling - hard. It wasn’t possible, because he was wedged in the box, so he knew it was magic. The same magic that tickled his guards in the forest, he guessed. The magic fingers dug into him with groping grabs and playful pinches as they traveled down from his armpits down to his waist. Pinch pinch pinch. His body writhed.
Aerik couldn’t breathe as the tickling took over his ribs, pushing all the air out of his lungs. “WAAAHAHAHAHAA OHHHAAAAAA NOOOOOOOO AAAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAH AHAHAHA!!”
More fingers grabbed at his ass cheeks, massaged roughly at the nerves in his glutes, and stiffly pressed as they walked around to his lower belly. Aerik’s body curled around his stomach, barely able to arch within its confines. The fingers marched back to his ass crack, poking as they went, then turned and clawed back toward his belly. The moving assault tickled him senseless and he howled with forced laughter.
“OH OH NOOOO NAAHAHAHAHA THAAAHAHAHAHAHAT!!” he cried as the fingers wiggled in the space between his hip bone and thigh. He wanted desperately to curl around the poking fingers, to pull them away from his ticklish groin.
More fingers crept into his armpits, drawing stiff little circles in the soft centers. Two fingers on each side pinchered up and down the ladders of bones, pinch pinch pinch. The harsh tickling jolted through his torso and the prince could feel his dick hardening, wherever it was, from distress and frustration.
He tossed his head back to gasp desperately before more laughter slammed out of him. The rib tickling forcibly clenched his ribs, he couldn’t inhale until the pincers stopped.
Fingers tickling near his groin crawled down the insides of his legs and lobster-clawed his kneecaps - he kicked and roared, thrashing in the box, as guffaws poured from him.
“NAAAHAHAH STAAHAHAHAPP! BAAAHAHAHAHAHA huh huuuuh huuuuh wwaaAAAHAHAHAAA!”
More and more fingers helped themselves to his ticklish crevices and soft spots: they scratched his neck and jabbed his collarbones, ribs and kidneys. His body clenched and jolted, knees kicking out or elbows knocking the walls.
The fingers still stroked and wiggled, finding tender places in his belly, and pinching at his hips and thighs. Aerik cackled and howled, unable to breathe in from the overwhelming ticklish torture inside the cursed box. It jostled along to the stones in the road, clunking on the cart floor.
Pointy nails continued to tickle all over his feet - like crazed spiders they raced from heels to toes, underneath and on top, pinching and scratching at his clenched toes. Aerik shrieked and kicked, curling his toes tightly as he shook his feet away. Eventually the muscles tired, and he could feel a long finger pull back the big toes on both feet; he groaned and flexed his body away from the impending attack.
Nails scribbled frantically at the stretched undersides of his trembling toes. Aerik howled with laughter and thrashed his body, feeling the box shift on the floor. The tickling in so many different places overwhelmed him - pinch pinch in his armpits, jab jab in his flanks. Thumbs rubbed stiff circles around his nipples, sometimes flicking them gently.
The prince couldn’t wiggle away, all he could do was cackle into the darkness of his box from hell.
He was barely aware of the tightening in his dick, although it was not in the box - where is it? - until he felt it touch the arches of his feet. He felt the sensations from both at once. A jolt of elation and erotic pleasure zapped through him at the sensation of his own dick tip and his feet - it was safe. As he flapped his feet to avoid the prickly nails tickling, his arches touched and stroked his erect penis, which was nestled between them on the lid of the box.
Magic fingers tickled him without mercy all over his cramped body: his armpits and knees, his flanks and ribs and shoulders. Aerik squealed and kicked, his laughter boisterous and hysterical; drool and sweat began to pool under his face. The cart bumped along, rocking and jostling him.
As time went on, a slick, desperate orgasm built up in his stomach.
“RRunGGNN HRRNNGG HRRNNNG HAHAHAHAHAHA AAAAHAHAHAHA NOOOAHAHA STAAAHAHAHAP!” he begged, sure that he could not be heard.
The fingers never stopped, never slowed - they constantly sought to tickle the spots that forced a reaction.
The wizard’s fingers, tasked with tickling his feet with relentless, delicate scratches, suddenly stopped - and started again on his testicles.
Aerik’s body jerked and his jaw fell open, his laughter pounding out in squealy growls as the nails danced up his balls, up and down the backs, up and down the sides, around and around. Their tickly tapping and scratching sent wave after wave of hysterical, ticklish laughter through the prince’s trapped, muscled body.
His dick stood up straight and he tucked the desperate, tickled soles of his feet around the shaft. It felt wonderful and partially hid them from the pointy nails - which felt even better. Aerik couldn’t help but begin to pump his feet up and down, up and down, feeling the orgasm build.
It only took a few little kicks, and Aerik came hard. The tickling stopped as the orgasm passed over him, and then it started again, with a vengeance. Fingers crawled across his belly and dug into his sides; they walked up his ribs and into his armpits - where they pinched and wiggled ferociously. Aerik gasped and panted, then broke into shrieking giggles.
He was twice as ticklish as he had been before.
Pointy nails continued to skitter around on his testicles, then crawled up his shaft to the very tip; fingertips tickled and rubbed the spent head. This rough, pinchy rub was he most heinous and intense tickling he had ever known: thunderbolts shot through his dick and into his belly and nipples. Aerik screamed and kicked wildly, desperately trying to pull away. His shrieks ended in wild staccato cackling, face red and drooling.
They tickled his penis until he came again, face down in his own drool and laughing himself hoarse. The magic fingers prodded and jabbed his shoulders and neck, and crept around his waist from his spine; they jabbed above his kidneys and he laughed so hard that tears poured down his face.
The trip took a day and a half, and he laughed himself hoarse every minute. He came several more times and the scratchy and ruthless hands of the wizard, and each time he felt more ticklish afterward. Magic fingers tickled every sensitive place on his body and the wizard himself tormented his feet and toes, his dick and balls. Hour after hour, locked in the box; he was given water twice, and fed two bowls of oatmeal.
Twice during his torture, Aerik wept with frustration as fingers attacked his groin while he orgasmed. Once, he pissed and heard it land on the lid of the box, trickling - the wizard tickled his scrotum while he peed.
The prince couldn’t help but kick his ticklish feet, which were under constant attack, and the wizard eventually tied his toes together to keep them wrapped around his half-erect penis. It struck Aerik that he never became exhausted and his nerves never ceased to be sensitive. How long could this go on?
“WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH AAAAAHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Aerik cried as fingers clawed at his pecs and tickled his nipples; skittery nails teased his dick head.
He was sure he couldn’t come again, but the fingers seemed unconvinced - they scribbled lightly at the slippery pink skin. It tickled like mad, now that all the erotic sensation had been rubbed away. The prince thought he might be dying, he couldn’t breathe as laughter overcame him once more.
Aerik heard a drawbridge rise and fall as the nails attacked his toes. He shrieked and kicked, drool and tears wetting his mouth and chin. A familiar dark voice from outside the box said, “We have arrived.”
Part III: The Dungeon
Aerik was carried down many stairs, and then dropped unceremoniously on a stone floor. The thump of the box rang against stone walls. He was intermittently asleep, stirring only when the box slammed; he had been tickled and milked for over a day, and he was exhausted.
The lid rose off the box, and Aerik did not move from where he lay on his stomach, pink feet tickled raw sticking out behind him. They were instinctively curled up, now, all but trembling with fear that they might draw the wizard’s attention again.
“Is there anything you would like to tell me?” Malkiore asked from somewhere in the room. “Come on out, and we can talk.”
Against his will, Aerik’s body began to move. His feet and arms flexed, he bent in half and pressed his hands into the bottom of the box. He lifted himself up and onto his knees, his joints aching and popping as he rose to stand on his feet.
Then his arms raised up high above his head, and he stretched - it felt good but he was also stiff and he groaned loudly as he rose up on to his toes.
He found himself staring at Malkiore, who sat in a stuffed chair with Aerik’s genitals nested in his lap. Aerik’s body stretched upward as tightly as it could go, and he balanced precariously on his toes. His breath came in little strained pants, his face red and wet; he scowled.
As Malkiore spoke, he ran one long finger gently down Aerik’s limp dick, base to tip, again and again. The dick twitched with every ticklish stroke but the prince was determined to keep his face still.
“What have you got to say, hmm, lad? Any secrets?” Malkiore clawed one hand and dragged four fingers up and down the dick. Gently dragging nails up, and down, up and down. The tickle was soft but threatening; Aerik’s body tensed and his dick twitched again and again.
“Aha...I ha-HAve nothing to sa-SAY toohooohooo youuhoohooo ahah ahaha
ahem.” So much for a straight face - his whole body was twitchy and sensitive.
Aerik glowered at his captor, around gasping breaths, but inside he trembled. The hours of tickling he had already endured had taken him deep into hell, and he was not eager to plunge to the depths again.
“Nothing?” Malkiore lifted his penis and used three fingers to lightly tickle under the head.
“Are you sure you are ready for more?”
“NO! No, NO AHA ahahaha JUst AHAnother MIN-minuTE! PLEASE!”
Aerik yanked and shook, but could not bring his arms down. In fact, the more he tried the higher up his hands crept. The strain in his body set his nerves on fire, and he could feel the trickle of sweat run down his belly and his legs.
Malkiore produced a long, stiff turkey feather from inside his silk robes, held the head of the dick up and dragged the blade of the feather across Aerik’s piss hole. Strooke, strooooke, strooooke, then flicked it with the tip, flick flick flick. Stroooke strooke…stroooke.
Aerik’s stomach clenched and laughter poured out of him. He had lost his ability to contain himself after hours of merciless tickling in the box; no matter how tightly he tensed his stomach, the laughter was pushed out of his throat by any tickling at all.
Now, he stood, stretched and cackling, mouth wide open, as the wizard stroked the very tip of his penis again and again with the stiff feather. It tickled like a sharp, hilarious itch and he felt himself began to swell; No, no no no no! The prince thought. He didn’t want to come again, not while laughing, not at the hands of this monster. The feather stroked again, and again, tickling him to death and filling him up.
“I had to place a sensitivity hex on your soldiers to break them down so quickly,” Malkiore mused, watching Aerik’s hysterical face as he feathered his dick, “but for you, I didn’t have to waste the energy.”
Fingers began to tickle Aerik’s wrists, and scribble as they walked down his arms, headed for the pits. The fingers skittered and scratched, scritch scritch scritch, and made their way over his elbow joint.
Aerik’s eyes shot open and he squealed, “NoooO!” as fingers crawled down his biceps and leapt into his hairy, stretched pits. They scrabbled and scratched at the concave centers; Aerik fell apart.
“AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” he laughed, his muscles straining and trembling under their own weight, despite the magic force compelling them to stretch upward. “AAAYYYEEHEHEHEEHEHEEE WOOHOHOHOOOAHAHAHAHAAA HAHAHA! WON’T! AAAHAHAHAHA WAAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHAAA! TALK! Huh huh huhuhuhuhuaha ahAHAHAAA!”
Pointy massaging fingers clawed at his pec muscles, tickling all around the nipples and dancing up and down; toward the collarbones, down to the ribs. Jab, jab, jab. Aerik screamed and it crumbled into staccato laughter. More fingers began to touch him, poking his belly and pinching his thighs - his breath caught and then blasted out in a guffaw. He went silent, the sensations overwhelming him, the laugh becoming a deep wheeze. He couldn’t protect his violated, ticklish spots.
Harsh scratching nails crept down his legs, down the calves and ankles, then crept into his quaking arches. Aerik wanted to press his feet into the ground and hide them from the torturous prickles. He laughed and shook, the dick-tickling a constant overtone to the deep, gut wrenching pokes in his ribs and body, and endless scratches and pinches on his feet.
“Aerik,” the wizard taunted him, “Aeerriik, tell me your seeecreeets. I am going to tickle, tickle, tickle them out of yoouuu.”
Now that his penis again stood on its own, Malkiore flicked the tip up and down his shaft and began to scratch-fondle his nuts. The scratching-massage feeling on his tight scrotum tickled like mad all the way to his navel. He shivered as he felt the lightning bolt of laughter building in his belly, Aeriks’ breath blasted out of him in a startled, desperate cackle.
“WAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA huh huhuhaaaAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!”
All he wanted was to be able to cup his hands around his dick, to hide it from the endless tickling and constant, impending orgasms. He felt raw and exhausted - the come had begun to leak from him again, and he didn’t want it.
“We both know how this is going to end. There is no escape - you will tell me what I want to know. Eventually, the constant stimulation will addle your brains, and you will become my slave. You will do anything to stop the torment. Tickle tickle, it doesn’t usually take more than a few days. Oh dear, I think you are ready for another good time.”
Instead of egging the orgasm on, the wizard devoted all ten fingers to the tickling ball massage. Aerik screamed himself hoarse, his laughter rough and wheezing, as fingertips tickled his scrotum. They crawled up and down, poking into the little wrinkles and scratching the skin gently. His thigh muscles clenched and trembled reflexively.
“NAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAA AAAAHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAH! WAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA AHAHA!”
His dick ached, but nothing touched it. The wizard tickled his nuts and the invisible magic fingers poked and jabbed and crawled all over his splayed body.
Several scratched at his toes, splayed and trembling under his weight, and more at the balls of his feet. The prince squealed and his ankles kicked, though affected nothing.
The most ticklish fingers wormed into the creases where his legs met his body, pinching and grabbing at his groin. Uncontrollable belly laughter wheezed from his exhausted body as the fingers tickled and tickled at his inner thighs..
“How long do you think you can hide your secrets from me, Prince Aerik? Hmm?”
The wizard’s fingers crawled up his scrotum and then up his rigid erect dick. They tickled to the head and then scratched it, ruthlessly, with pinchy, rough tickles..
Aerik screamed hoarsely and came suddenly with a shivering jolt.
“WAAAAHHHHHHHHHHAHAHA ….UUNNGGHHHHHH!”
Without warning, the magic holding him up let him go and Aerik crumpled to the ground. The fingers did not stop their vicious tickling attack on his dick head, and after the initial eruption Aerik began to shudder and squeal. It devolved quickly into whiny giggling, and then sobbing laughter as he grabbed at his crotch and rolled on the ground.
“UUNNNGG HUHN HUHN HUHN ERRNNGNGNG no NO! UNNGH UNGH!”
The fingers tickled him all over and he curled into a ball on the stone floor, hands tucked between his legs and feet folded under him. He tucked his chin to his chest and squealed, begging. “PLEEHEEHEHEHEHEESESESESEE! HEEHEEHEEHEE AHAHAHAHA!”
The tickling stopped. Aerik took several long minutes to catch his breath, then turned his head up to where the wizard sat in his chair. Malkiore held up an ornately decorated golden box in one hand, and Aerik’s genitals in the other; he dropped the dick and balls into the box.
Then, Malkiore held the box out in front of himself - and flipped the lid closed.
Aerik’s body clenched and his eyes bulged: he screamed and thrashed on the floor, grabbing desperately for his crotch. His feet kicked outward and back with wild abandon, his head thrown back and mouth agape with a wild squeal that devolved into crazed, cackling laughter.
As soon as the lid clicked closed, his dick and balls pulsated with the most intense ticklish sensations he had ever known. Wave after jolting, hysterical wave of tickling thrummed through the testicles and the muscles in the shaft; they vibrated along the head and buzzed through the piss slot. It was the most horrible tickling, wave after wave along every ticklish nerve. Aerik wanted to die, he couldn’t laugh loud enough.
“WAAAHAHAHA ABASTAPABS FOR FUHHAAHAHAH AUHHAHA NGUGGUGAHAHAA!” He spattered and spluttered, spit and cackled, rolling back and forth on the stone floor while his genitals pulsated tickling. “WAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOOOOAHAHAHA! FLAABASFKLAAHF AFHAHAHHAAH STAAHAHAPA AHAHADSTNIA AAAHHHAHA!”
The prince came, and the tickling worsened without stopping. The thrumming inside the gold box vibrated his penis and after a few moments, he came again (loudly, while he begged not to have to, “PLEEHEEHEE - UUNNNGGG NO aahahahahahaa AHAHAHA!”) - despite the tickling, through the tickling.
Aerik came again. He didn’t want to come anymore, and he started to weep - but the tickling continued and he came again and again, in rapid succession. He choked and wept as the tickling continued, crazed laughter overcoming his frustration after several long minutes. He laughed his fool head off until he came, again.
When Aerik was so exhausted he could barely cry, Malkiore opened the lid of the box and the buzzing tickles ceased. Sticky jizz dripped from the lid and down the pink, spent dick. Malkiore removed it from the box, and Aerik jerked at the sensation but otherwise didn’t move from the floor.
“I wonder, now, if you have anything you would like to share with me?” Malkiore asked, pulling a clean cloth from his sleeve and wiping the prince’s dick with a steady hand.
Aerik groaned and let out a breathy giggle. “I...heh heh … will...not.” He was fixated on the sensation of being cleaned off, it felt tingly and he expected to be tickled any second. He took long, slow breaths trying to recover as much as he could. He didn’t want to lift his head.
“Oh, yes you will.” Malkiore put the dick and balls back in the box.
“NO, no, no, please, no,” Aerik begged immediately, eyes fixated on the torture box with his dick and balls inside. He couldn’t help but beg desperately. “Please, PLEASE! Please NO! No, please, don’t close the lid!”
Malkiore looked him in the eyes, and flipped the lid closed.
It was worse than before. Aerik’s eyes bulged and screams roared from his throat as the tickling ripped through his dick. His balls quaked, his dick head pulsed and squirted, weakly. He cackled like a madman as his nerves frayed, and his dick spurted weakly again.
“AAAAAHHHHHHH UNGGHHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHHHHHHH!”
“Tell me your seecreets Aeeerrik!” Malkiore taunted. “I know you have secrets to teeeelll meee!”
Aerik thrashed on the floor, holding his crotch uselessly as he screamed and shrieked and laughed. His throat and ribs hurt from the forced laughter and his muscles cramped from the constant clenching. Malkiore lifted the lid of the box and placed the box on the arm of his chair.
Aerik slumped on the floor, sobbing and giggling, and gasped for breath.
“Tell me.”
Aeriek took several long breaths. “No.”
Malkiore sighed. “It sounds like you need some time to think. Please get back in your box.”
Aerik’s eyes shot open again. “WHat! Oh no, no no please! Please not the box again!”
His body began to unroll itself and his hands pressed into the ground, hoisting him up - he was not in control. He crawled himself to the box and stepped in on his belly like a lizard, lying on his face and stomach with his legs bent back. “No no no no no! Stop! Stop please no!”
The lid to the box snapped closed. Aerik heard the muffled sound of robes running along the outside, and tickling nails began to prickle he heels of his bare feet. He groaned and his feet flexed. Malkiore’s hands stopped them, and held both feet still. Aerik cried out in fear, but nothing happened.
He felt loops of string wrap around each toe, and they were pulled taught backwards - this stretched the raw soles of his feet down toward the ground. The soles were taut and pink.
“Aerik, listen to me,” the wizard said. “These strings are tied to small sticks wedged under the lid of the little gold box I just showed you. If you curl your toes, the sticks will be pulled out, and the lid will close.”
Aerik moaned with anxiety. One fingernail began to scratch delicately at the ball of the foot under each big toe and he growled and thumped from inside the box, careful not to kick his feet.
“Your stubbornness has kept me up too late, Aerik. I shall retire, and return tomorrow to see if you have changed your mind. If you tell me everything, then the tickling will stop.”
The robes rustled, and Aerik could hear footsteps leave the room. A large door slammed shut. Aerik heard nothing but his ragged breathing inside the box.
Then, the scratching began on his feet. First on the insides of his ankles, then up into the heels and up the arches toward the pulled-back toes. A shrieky whine escaped his lips as the tickling sensations raced up his legs and his feet twitched with the effort to not curl his toes. Scratching nails crawled up his soles to the balls of his feet, which were pinched - pinch pinch pinch - and under the toes, scritch scritch scritch. Aerik’s whining became forced, unhappy giggles.
“MMM hhMMM hMM hMM HMMMMMM! HMMHMMRRRHERR HERR HERR HERR HERR!”
The scratching increased and in moments it felt as if thousands of spiders with steel feet scraped and scrambled, pinched and tickled all over his feet.
Aerik squealed and laughed inside the box, thrashing his body because he could not, dared not, curl his toes. Deep, relentless pinches, again and again, attached the undersides of his big toes and he growled and laughed.
As the muscles in Aerik’s feet twitched with exhaustion and he thought he was about to fail, the tickling suddenly stopped. He panted and gasped, heaving inside the box. Tears streamed down his eyes, and his face was sticky with saliva and sweat. He wept silently.
Until fingers wiggled under his arms, and down his ribs. Tickling, groping, jabbing fingers found the deepest curve in his pits and pinched ferociously. They rubbed deeply into the muscles above his kneecaps; they poked and massaged his buttocks, skittering into his ass crack. He clenched and howled. .
Fingers knuckled his kidneys and lobster-clawed his ticklish flanks, using pincers to jab up and down his sides. They grabbed and poked his belly and his hips. The sensations attacked his body in the otherwise sensory-free box - and the suddenness of the attack startled him into an endless hysterical belly laugh.
It barely made a sound, hoarse and wheezing as he was, but the sensations were as loud as they could be. How could they tickle him so deftly when he was tucked tight? It felt worse than when he was stretched up and exposed; he couldn’t stretch if he wanted to.
Fingers wandered up his chest and into his ears and he shook his head back and forth, uselessly.
Aerik wheezed and gasped, unable to laugh enough to express how much he was being tickled. A hand crawled down his ass and between the backs of his thighs, the fingers pinching where his perineum me his asscrack. He shrieked soundlessly and kicked his feet, his toes curling half way - his eyes shot open in the dark box and he thrashed and waited, but nothing happened to his dick.
He sagged with relief and the tickling in his body stopped. He gasped and whined, not sure he could take any more. The tickling began again on his feet, and was as merciless as ever - pointy, relentless, scrambling from heels to toes, up and down. He wheezed and kicked and just when he thought he would succumb, it stopped.
And began again on his body, this time soft and tender tickles - light and rapid, up and down his ass and legs, his back and sides, his belly and chest. Fluttery tickles in his pits even though his arms were tucked to his sides.
“HHRRNNNGN Nooo noooo no no,” he moaned, “aha ahaha ahahahahah HAHAHAHAH!”
Aerik made it five more rounds of light tickling then rough tickling before the sensation of teeth gnawing at the tender pink toes broke him. With a soundless squeal, Aerik curled his desperate toes away from the teeth, and felt the sticks pop out from the lid of the box.
As it snapped closed the merciless vibrating tickles enveloped his hypersensitive genitals. He shrieked and kicked and thrashed in the box, the relentless tickling ripping his mind and throat apart. How long could a wizard keep him alive? How long could he live like this?
The lids of both boxes remained closed until the prince passed out. They were closed when he was jolted awake by the continued zapping tickles through his exhausted penis, and he lost consciousness again as he was wracked by orgasm after weak orgasm. The prince’s body never tired, which he guessed was magic; his mind was addled by overload and he had no sense of time.
Eventually, the tickling in his dick stopped. The lid to the boxes had been opened, and Malkiore said, “Have anything to tell me, little tickle prince?
“UUuunnghhh,” Aerik moaned, barely able to turn his head enough to see his captor.
“No?” said the wizard with a shrug, and began lowering the lid of the box. “I’ll come back tomorrow, then.”
“NO WAIT! WAIT AHAHA AH no… no I…I’ll TALK please PLEASE! I’ll TALK!”
“Hmm?” Malkiore opened the lid, and one bloodshot eye strained to look up at him from inside the box.
“My father is dying,” Aerik sobbed with defeat. “And my brother will take the throne before year’s end. My uncle is to send protection and teachers, to help train my brother to be a proper King.”
Malkiore snorted a laugh. “Oh, is that it? Your father died two days ago, while we were still in the forest. Your kingdom was infiltrated and attacked, and your brother has fallen to your uncle’s troops. There is chaos between the two lands, and you are presumed dead.
“Which means you are mine, now. No one will come looking for you, and there is no message to keep hidden.”
Malkiore’s dark eyes sparkled with glee as he lifted his fingers up, wiggling them with malice.
“NO! NO, YOU’RE LYING! Stop! No, please!” the prince cried, overloaded with desperate information.
Malkiore chuckled as he picked the ornate box up off the floor. Aerik wiggled furiously in his cramped quarters, sensitive feet flapping. “Come now, why would it matter? Now, where were we?”
The wizard reached in the box and began to lightly scritch the head of the prince’s flaccid penis. “Ah, yes. Tickle tickle tiiiickle!”
As his mouth twisted into a tight smile, a wave of healing cold flushed over Aerik - he felt refreshed and completely recovered. His dick felt semi-erect and sensitive as if he had not come in days, so the wizard’s fingers made him squirm.
As he broke into angry giggles, the invisible fingers invited themselves into his trembling crevices.
After a few seconds watching Aerik wiggle, Malkiore said suddenly “well, now, I have some important wizardry to do today - so I will see you this evening, after supper.”
Aerik’s eyes shot open with realization and as he shrieked a delirious protest, the lids of both boxes slammed shut.
End.
The Devil’s Boxes
2019
Part I: The Capture
Aerik thought he was prepared for the attack when it came. The five of them rode slowly through the brush of a suspiciously quiet forest, armed and alert. Thousand-year-old trees towered above them, gnarly limbs and curtains of thick vines rising into the dark canopy. No birds sang; Aerik saw no shuffling wildlife. The horses snorted and their ears swiveled.
Four elite soldiers had volunteered to protect him with their lives, and Aerik himself was a decorated war veteran. He had sired children all over the kingdom by women who had welcomed him back from war after victorious war - they wanted royal warrior blood in their future stock. The four others had fought alongside him in battle, and had fathered bastards of their own: they were skilled killers that had devoted their last breath to the throne of Longsword City.
They constituted a formidable defense for the secret that Aerik carried. His father, the King of Longsword City, had ordered that the information be revealed only to Aerik’s uncle, the King of Hartshorn Pass. Each of the five men had volunteered to travel the three days to their neighboring land, and had pledged their lives to see their orders carried out to deliver the message to Prince Aerik’s uncle.
So Aerik was surprised, the most, by his surprise.
Suddenly, one of the horses dropped from under its rider. Then, another. The forest rang with screaming as ropes of thick vines snatched them by their legs and carried them outward into the trees. A whipping wind shook the branches above as the trailing two guards fell, rolling onto their feet with swords raised.
Aerik turned to look behind in time to see two more horses fall - and feel his own beast disappear from under his legs almost simultaneously. He leapt from the saddle and rolled away from the vines as the others had, rolling to his feet.
The two soldiers that had fallen first, Amos and Rand, struggled to remain on their feet, their faces strained and red. Aerik’s brow furrowed, unable to see what caused their distress. They both appeared to struggle to keep their sword arms away from their bodies, as if they wanted to pull their elbows in. Aerik saw nothing touching them. He began to hear grunting and groans from them both, their mouths tightening.
“MMPPHHhh huh huh huh.”
“Huh huh UNNGGGNN RRRrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr!”
The soldier directly behind Aerik stood up then doubled over, clutching his stomach with a cry.
“Gnnnngrrr...GAAHH! AARRGGHH! Huh huh huh!”
The last man glanced around quickly and moved closer to protect Aerik. Within three strides he let out a choked wail and fell to his knees on the forest floor. His arms wrapped around his torso, clutching at his ribs, and he kicked into the dirt beneath him - his mouth opened into a wide, desperate screech.
Over the rustle of leaves and the faded shrieks of startled horses, Aerik heard more muffled grunts, coughs and choked breaths. A long groan ended abruptly in a giggle..
One of the men on Aerik’s right cried out, “No NO NOT THE - PITSSAAARRRGGHH AAHAHAHAHA!”
“HUH HURRNNGGG aha aha rrRRRRRnngggg NO NO DON’T...AAAHHHHH HAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA!”
“NOOAOAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAH STAAAHAHAHP NOOAAHHA!”
“EERRNNGGG HERRRNG HRRRNG HRRRNG HERRRRAAAHAHAHA….RRRRNNGG!”
One by one each soldier let out a clenched protest followed by hearty belly laughter. The men were stumbling and clutching at themselves; they tucked armpits and clenched groins, slapping at their ribs. Two dropped their swords to grab and swat at their legs.
Aerik blinked - sword up and stunned - as it dawned on him that his protective guard was being mercilessly tickled. In less time than it took to shave his face, they had been reduced to squealing, kicking, howling wrecks; hilarious cackling laughter poured from each mighty throat.
As the fourth soldier‘s knees sank into the leaves and dirt below, his helmeted head tossed forward into the ground as he laughed, Aerik turned to run away. This was magic, and magic could not be stopped with his sword - he was vulnerable.
A thick vine shot out beneath him and snapped his ankles together, yanking to flip him upside-down. Aerik shouted in surprise as the vision of his soldiers flipped over: they were sprawled on the ground or curled into balls, kicking and slamming their fists in the dirt as they laughed hysterically. Aerik panted as his sword was ripped from his hand and discarded by a whipped tree limb.
A thick, bald man stepped in front of him as he hung by his ankles; he had been reaching for his belt knife, but froze as the man’s shadow fell across him. Vines wrapped around his arms and pulled them behind his back, looping his wrists together.
“Hello, Aerik,” the man’s voice was deep and threatening. “I understand you are carrying a secret.”
“Who...are you?!” Aerik swung a little as he tilted his chin to peer up from below. The man was shrouded in shadow.
“I am Malkiore, the Grand Wizard of the West Plateau. Perhaps you have heard of me?” The man’s tone was dismissively casual as he reached out and grabbed at the crotch of Aerik’s pants, tugging the fabric off of Aerik’s body.
“Oi! Oi! No, no NO STOP!” Aerik struggled uselessly as the crotch of his pants was slit open. He could swing his body but not enough to deter the Grand Wizard.
He wondered if it mattered whether he made any noise. He had been captured and tortured twice. He had resisted, and been rescued, twice - but he had screamed. He didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t scream, if he wanted, and it hurt enough. There would be no rescue here - were his friends really being tickled? He was incredulous; maybe he had hit his head..
“You haven’t heard of me? That’s too bad. I’ve heard of you,” the wizard drawled.
He reached into the hole in Aerik’s pants and pulled out his small clothes. He slit those open - Aerik could tell by the draft. “I have heard about the secret you carry from your Father to his brother. And I would like you to tell me what it is.”
“I have heard of you,” Aerik snarled. “You murder babes in their beds for their blood. You eat beating hearts. You want me and all my kin to burn.”
The wizard paused to look down at Aerik’s red face. “Is that so? You know so many things.”
A puff of air blew across Aerik’s dick and then a steady, cool hand pulled him out of his pants. His dick flopped against his belt, his balls stretched forward and down. The sensations that followed were unfamiliar to him: some icy cold chills, a pinch up the shaft, followed by light tingling. He was nervous, but he remained quiet.
The wizard continued, “You know something I want to know, quite specifically.” He glanced at Aerik almost coyly. “Of course, I don’t expect you tell me now. You’ve received your orders, I am sure.” He stepped away from Aerik’s dangling body and held out one hand, displaying … Aerik gasped. His dick and balls!
They lay flat against the wizard’s palm, the flaccid penis nestled in its spot between the testicles. Malkiore ran one finger from the tip of the shaft up to his palm - a jolt shot through the prince’s pelvis. Aerik screamed with rage and curled upward, struggling against the solid vines holding his ankles and wrists. He would not be violated without a fight.
Malkiore sneered as he looked down into the prince’s eyes and said, “We will talk again when we arrive. You will have a day or so to think it over.”
With a flick of his wrist, the wizard turned and left. Aerik felt the vines swing him, back and forth, farther and farther - he could see, occasionally, his friends and fellow soldiers, writhing on the ground in the far clearing. They looked as if they still laughed, but he could not hear them; their horses grazed calmly beyond.
Then the vines let go of Aerik, and he saw that he was being tossed into a box. It was too short, and his knees were bent at 90 degrees behind him when he landed on his face. His wide shoulders wedged tight between the walls of the box. He was unable to move his arms; they pressed to his sides. His face smashed into the bottom; he could turn his head to press one cheek or the other to the floor.
The lid slammed closed and his feet were trapped behind him, sticking through holes around his ankles; he could move his legs slightly within the holes and flap his boots. He could not take a deep breath, and his heart began to race. Confinement made his heart race and he could not take a deep breath.
The box tilted and was dragged, clunking in the dirt - he felt it lifted and loaded, bottom scraping, into a cart. Aerik panted; he could not feel his dick pressed under his body, but he could feel it jostle along with a rocking carriage.
Something pulled off his boots and socks. His toes curled.
Part II: Travel
The tickling began immediately. Pointy nails walked from his heels to his toes, up and down the wrinkled soles, up and down, up and down. He tried to kick but his feet just flapped; there was nowhere to go. He panted and groaned, tried to ignore the prickly, tingling feelings along his soles.
The nails began to drag and scratch, and he coughed in the box, fighting the urge to laugh as the tickling heightened. Scratch scratch scratch up to the toes, then skitter skitter scratch all the way down to the heels.
The prince flailed and clenched his toes, flapping his feet. A grin tugged on his face and his lips spat little giggling puffs of air. Laughter filled his belly with hot air as the nails scratched at the balls of his feet and pinched his toe pads. Aerik chuckled smoothly, succumbing to the foot tickling.
The scratching, pinching nails crawled around his arches and onto the tops of his feet, tickling up to his toes and poked gently at the cracks between them. Aerik giggled and kicked his feet, truly hoping to escape the scratches between his toes - they sent jolts of electricity up his legs. The nails raced around to tickle and pinch at the clenched balls of his feet and more laughter escaped his pressed lips.
As the nails danced up and down his soles again, again, and again, the laughter pushed his mouth open to bellow. “mmmMMRRAAWww aaahahahahHAHAHA0 HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
No matter how he tilted his feet, the nails skittered and prickled, tickling the bottoms; the more he tried to escape, the more ticklish his skin felt. The nails danced up his squirming arches and along the wrinkles from his curled toes; they pinched at the littlest toes, pinch pinch pinch. Aerik’s body jumped inside the box as a surprised gasp and gutteral laughter poured out of him.
As he drew a breath amidst the laughter, Aerik felt fingertips pressing into his armpits and wiggling - hard. It wasn’t possible, because he was wedged in the box, so he knew it was magic. The same magic that tickled his guards in the forest, he guessed. The magic fingers dug into him with groping grabs and playful pinches as they traveled down from his armpits down to his waist. Pinch pinch pinch. His body writhed.
Aerik couldn’t breathe as the tickling took over his ribs, pushing all the air out of his lungs. “WAAAHAHAHAHAA OHHHAAAAAA NOOOOOOOO AAAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAH AHAHAHA!!”
More fingers grabbed at his ass cheeks, massaged roughly at the nerves in his glutes, and stiffly pressed as they walked around to his lower belly. Aerik’s body curled around his stomach, barely able to arch within its confines. The fingers marched back to his ass crack, poking as they went, then turned and clawed back toward his belly. The moving assault tickled him senseless and he howled with forced laughter.
“OH OH NOOOO NAAHAHAHAHA THAAAHAHAHAHAHAT!!” he cried as the fingers wiggled in the space between his hip bone and thigh. He wanted desperately to curl around the poking fingers, to pull them away from his ticklish groin.
More fingers crept into his armpits, drawing stiff little circles in the soft centers. Two fingers on each side pinchered up and down the ladders of bones, pinch pinch pinch. The harsh tickling jolted through his torso and the prince could feel his dick hardening, wherever it was, from distress and frustration.
He tossed his head back to gasp desperately before more laughter slammed out of him. The rib tickling forcibly clenched his ribs, he couldn’t inhale until the pincers stopped.
Fingers tickling near his groin crawled down the insides of his legs and lobster-clawed his kneecaps - he kicked and roared, thrashing in the box, as guffaws poured from him.
“NAAAHAHAH STAAHAHAHAPP! BAAAHAHAHAHAHA huh huuuuh huuuuh wwaaAAAHAHAHAAA!”
More and more fingers helped themselves to his ticklish crevices and soft spots: they scratched his neck and jabbed his collarbones, ribs and kidneys. His body clenched and jolted, knees kicking out or elbows knocking the walls.
The fingers still stroked and wiggled, finding tender places in his belly, and pinching at his hips and thighs. Aerik cackled and howled, unable to breathe in from the overwhelming ticklish torture inside the cursed box. It jostled along to the stones in the road, clunking on the cart floor.
Pointy nails continued to tickle all over his feet - like crazed spiders they raced from heels to toes, underneath and on top, pinching and scratching at his clenched toes. Aerik shrieked and kicked, curling his toes tightly as he shook his feet away. Eventually the muscles tired, and he could feel a long finger pull back the big toes on both feet; he groaned and flexed his body away from the impending attack.
Nails scribbled frantically at the stretched undersides of his trembling toes. Aerik howled with laughter and thrashed his body, feeling the box shift on the floor. The tickling in so many different places overwhelmed him - pinch pinch in his armpits, jab jab in his flanks. Thumbs rubbed stiff circles around his nipples, sometimes flicking them gently.
The prince couldn’t wiggle away, all he could do was cackle into the darkness of his box from hell.
He was barely aware of the tightening in his dick, although it was not in the box - where is it? - until he felt it touch the arches of his feet. He felt the sensations from both at once. A jolt of elation and erotic pleasure zapped through him at the sensation of his own dick tip and his feet - it was safe. As he flapped his feet to avoid the prickly nails tickling, his arches touched and stroked his erect penis, which was nestled between them on the lid of the box.
Magic fingers tickled him without mercy all over his cramped body: his armpits and knees, his flanks and ribs and shoulders. Aerik squealed and kicked, his laughter boisterous and hysterical; drool and sweat began to pool under his face. The cart bumped along, rocking and jostling him.
As time went on, a slick, desperate orgasm built up in his stomach.
“RRunGGNN HRRNNGG HRRNNNG HAHAHAHAHAHA AAAAHAHAHAHA NOOOAHAHA STAAAHAHAHAP!” he begged, sure that he could not be heard.
The fingers never stopped, never slowed - they constantly sought to tickle the spots that forced a reaction.
The wizard’s fingers, tasked with tickling his feet with relentless, delicate scratches, suddenly stopped - and started again on his testicles.
Aerik’s body jerked and his jaw fell open, his laughter pounding out in squealy growls as the nails danced up his balls, up and down the backs, up and down the sides, around and around. Their tickly tapping and scratching sent wave after wave of hysterical, ticklish laughter through the prince’s trapped, muscled body.
His dick stood up straight and he tucked the desperate, tickled soles of his feet around the shaft. It felt wonderful and partially hid them from the pointy nails - which felt even better. Aerik couldn’t help but begin to pump his feet up and down, up and down, feeling the orgasm build.
It only took a few little kicks, and Aerik came hard. The tickling stopped as the orgasm passed over him, and then it started again, with a vengeance. Fingers crawled across his belly and dug into his sides; they walked up his ribs and into his armpits - where they pinched and wiggled ferociously. Aerik gasped and panted, then broke into shrieking giggles.
He was twice as ticklish as he had been before.
Pointy nails continued to skitter around on his testicles, then crawled up his shaft to the very tip; fingertips tickled and rubbed the spent head. This rough, pinchy rub was he most heinous and intense tickling he had ever known: thunderbolts shot through his dick and into his belly and nipples. Aerik screamed and kicked wildly, desperately trying to pull away. His shrieks ended in wild staccato cackling, face red and drooling.
They tickled his penis until he came again, face down in his own drool and laughing himself hoarse. The magic fingers prodded and jabbed his shoulders and neck, and crept around his waist from his spine; they jabbed above his kidneys and he laughed so hard that tears poured down his face.
The trip took a day and a half, and he laughed himself hoarse every minute. He came several more times and the scratchy and ruthless hands of the wizard, and each time he felt more ticklish afterward. Magic fingers tickled every sensitive place on his body and the wizard himself tormented his feet and toes, his dick and balls. Hour after hour, locked in the box; he was given water twice, and fed two bowls of oatmeal.
Twice during his torture, Aerik wept with frustration as fingers attacked his groin while he orgasmed. Once, he pissed and heard it land on the lid of the box, trickling - the wizard tickled his scrotum while he peed.
The prince couldn’t help but kick his ticklish feet, which were under constant attack, and the wizard eventually tied his toes together to keep them wrapped around his half-erect penis. It struck Aerik that he never became exhausted and his nerves never ceased to be sensitive. How long could this go on?
“WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH AAAAAHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Aerik cried as fingers clawed at his pecs and tickled his nipples; skittery nails teased his dick head.
He was sure he couldn’t come again, but the fingers seemed unconvinced - they scribbled lightly at the slippery pink skin. It tickled like mad, now that all the erotic sensation had been rubbed away. The prince thought he might be dying, he couldn’t breathe as laughter overcame him once more.
Aerik heard a drawbridge rise and fall as the nails attacked his toes. He shrieked and kicked, drool and tears wetting his mouth and chin. A familiar dark voice from outside the box said, “We have arrived.”
Part III: The Dungeon
Aerik was carried down many stairs, and then dropped unceremoniously on a stone floor. The thump of the box rang against stone walls. He was intermittently asleep, stirring only when the box slammed; he had been tickled and milked for over a day, and he was exhausted.
The lid rose off the box, and Aerik did not move from where he lay on his stomach, pink feet tickled raw sticking out behind him. They were instinctively curled up, now, all but trembling with fear that they might draw the wizard’s attention again.
“Is there anything you would like to tell me?” Malkiore asked from somewhere in the room. “Come on out, and we can talk.”
Against his will, Aerik’s body began to move. His feet and arms flexed, he bent in half and pressed his hands into the bottom of the box. He lifted himself up and onto his knees, his joints aching and popping as he rose to stand on his feet.
Then his arms raised up high above his head, and he stretched - it felt good but he was also stiff and he groaned loudly as he rose up on to his toes.
He found himself staring at Malkiore, who sat in a stuffed chair with Aerik’s genitals nested in his lap. Aerik’s body stretched upward as tightly as it could go, and he balanced precariously on his toes. His breath came in little strained pants, his face red and wet; he scowled.
As Malkiore spoke, he ran one long finger gently down Aerik’s limp dick, base to tip, again and again. The dick twitched with every ticklish stroke but the prince was determined to keep his face still.
“What have you got to say, hmm, lad? Any secrets?” Malkiore clawed one hand and dragged four fingers up and down the dick. Gently dragging nails up, and down, up and down. The tickle was soft but threatening; Aerik’s body tensed and his dick twitched again and again.
“Aha...I ha-HAve nothing to sa-SAY toohooohooo youuhoohooo ahah ahaha
ahem.” So much for a straight face - his whole body was twitchy and sensitive.
Aerik glowered at his captor, around gasping breaths, but inside he trembled. The hours of tickling he had already endured had taken him deep into hell, and he was not eager to plunge to the depths again.
“Nothing?” Malkiore lifted his penis and used three fingers to lightly tickle under the head.
“Are you sure you are ready for more?”
“NO! No, NO AHA ahahaha JUst AHAnother MIN-minuTE! PLEASE!”
Aerik yanked and shook, but could not bring his arms down. In fact, the more he tried the higher up his hands crept. The strain in his body set his nerves on fire, and he could feel the trickle of sweat run down his belly and his legs.
Malkiore produced a long, stiff turkey feather from inside his silk robes, held the head of the dick up and dragged the blade of the feather across Aerik’s piss hole. Strooke, strooooke, strooooke, then flicked it with the tip, flick flick flick. Stroooke strooke…stroooke.
Aerik’s stomach clenched and laughter poured out of him. He had lost his ability to contain himself after hours of merciless tickling in the box; no matter how tightly he tensed his stomach, the laughter was pushed out of his throat by any tickling at all.
Now, he stood, stretched and cackling, mouth wide open, as the wizard stroked the very tip of his penis again and again with the stiff feather. It tickled like a sharp, hilarious itch and he felt himself began to swell; No, no no no no! The prince thought. He didn’t want to come again, not while laughing, not at the hands of this monster. The feather stroked again, and again, tickling him to death and filling him up.
“I had to place a sensitivity hex on your soldiers to break them down so quickly,” Malkiore mused, watching Aerik’s hysterical face as he feathered his dick, “but for you, I didn’t have to waste the energy.”
Fingers began to tickle Aerik’s wrists, and scribble as they walked down his arms, headed for the pits. The fingers skittered and scratched, scritch scritch scritch, and made their way over his elbow joint.
Aerik’s eyes shot open and he squealed, “NoooO!” as fingers crawled down his biceps and leapt into his hairy, stretched pits. They scrabbled and scratched at the concave centers; Aerik fell apart.
“AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” he laughed, his muscles straining and trembling under their own weight, despite the magic force compelling them to stretch upward. “AAAYYYEEHEHEHEEHEHEEE WOOHOHOHOOOAHAHAHAHAAA HAHAHA! WON’T! AAAHAHAHAHA WAAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHAAA! TALK! Huh huh huhuhuhuhuaha ahAHAHAAA!”
Pointy massaging fingers clawed at his pec muscles, tickling all around the nipples and dancing up and down; toward the collarbones, down to the ribs. Jab, jab, jab. Aerik screamed and it crumbled into staccato laughter. More fingers began to touch him, poking his belly and pinching his thighs - his breath caught and then blasted out in a guffaw. He went silent, the sensations overwhelming him, the laugh becoming a deep wheeze. He couldn’t protect his violated, ticklish spots.
Harsh scratching nails crept down his legs, down the calves and ankles, then crept into his quaking arches. Aerik wanted to press his feet into the ground and hide them from the torturous prickles. He laughed and shook, the dick-tickling a constant overtone to the deep, gut wrenching pokes in his ribs and body, and endless scratches and pinches on his feet.
“Aerik,” the wizard taunted him, “Aeerriik, tell me your seeecreeets. I am going to tickle, tickle, tickle them out of yoouuu.”
Now that his penis again stood on its own, Malkiore flicked the tip up and down his shaft and began to scratch-fondle his nuts. The scratching-massage feeling on his tight scrotum tickled like mad all the way to his navel. He shivered as he felt the lightning bolt of laughter building in his belly, Aeriks’ breath blasted out of him in a startled, desperate cackle.
“WAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA huh huhuhaaaAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!”
All he wanted was to be able to cup his hands around his dick, to hide it from the endless tickling and constant, impending orgasms. He felt raw and exhausted - the come had begun to leak from him again, and he didn’t want it.
“We both know how this is going to end. There is no escape - you will tell me what I want to know. Eventually, the constant stimulation will addle your brains, and you will become my slave. You will do anything to stop the torment. Tickle tickle, it doesn’t usually take more than a few days. Oh dear, I think you are ready for another good time.”
Instead of egging the orgasm on, the wizard devoted all ten fingers to the tickling ball massage. Aerik screamed himself hoarse, his laughter rough and wheezing, as fingertips tickled his scrotum. They crawled up and down, poking into the little wrinkles and scratching the skin gently. His thigh muscles clenched and trembled reflexively.
“NAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAA AAAAHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAH! WAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA AHAHA!”
His dick ached, but nothing touched it. The wizard tickled his nuts and the invisible magic fingers poked and jabbed and crawled all over his splayed body.
Several scratched at his toes, splayed and trembling under his weight, and more at the balls of his feet. The prince squealed and his ankles kicked, though affected nothing.
The most ticklish fingers wormed into the creases where his legs met his body, pinching and grabbing at his groin. Uncontrollable belly laughter wheezed from his exhausted body as the fingers tickled and tickled at his inner thighs..
“How long do you think you can hide your secrets from me, Prince Aerik? Hmm?”
The wizard’s fingers crawled up his scrotum and then up his rigid erect dick. They tickled to the head and then scratched it, ruthlessly, with pinchy, rough tickles..
Aerik screamed hoarsely and came suddenly with a shivering jolt.
“WAAAAHHHHHHHHHHAHAHA ….UUNNGGHHHHHH!”
Without warning, the magic holding him up let him go and Aerik crumpled to the ground. The fingers did not stop their vicious tickling attack on his dick head, and after the initial eruption Aerik began to shudder and squeal. It devolved quickly into whiny giggling, and then sobbing laughter as he grabbed at his crotch and rolled on the ground.
“UUNNNGG HUHN HUHN HUHN ERRNNGNGNG no NO! UNNGH UNGH!”
The fingers tickled him all over and he curled into a ball on the stone floor, hands tucked between his legs and feet folded under him. He tucked his chin to his chest and squealed, begging. “PLEEHEEHEHEHEHEESESESESEE! HEEHEEHEEHEE AHAHAHAHA!”
The tickling stopped. Aerik took several long minutes to catch his breath, then turned his head up to where the wizard sat in his chair. Malkiore held up an ornately decorated golden box in one hand, and Aerik’s genitals in the other; he dropped the dick and balls into the box.
Then, Malkiore held the box out in front of himself - and flipped the lid closed.
Aerik’s body clenched and his eyes bulged: he screamed and thrashed on the floor, grabbing desperately for his crotch. His feet kicked outward and back with wild abandon, his head thrown back and mouth agape with a wild squeal that devolved into crazed, cackling laughter.
As soon as the lid clicked closed, his dick and balls pulsated with the most intense ticklish sensations he had ever known. Wave after jolting, hysterical wave of tickling thrummed through the testicles and the muscles in the shaft; they vibrated along the head and buzzed through the piss slot. It was the most horrible tickling, wave after wave along every ticklish nerve. Aerik wanted to die, he couldn’t laugh loud enough.
“WAAAHAHAHA ABASTAPABS FOR FUHHAAHAHAH AUHHAHA NGUGGUGAHAHAA!” He spattered and spluttered, spit and cackled, rolling back and forth on the stone floor while his genitals pulsated tickling. “WAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOOOOAHAHAHA! FLAABASFKLAAHF AFHAHAHHAAH STAAHAHAPA AHAHADSTNIA AAAHHHAHA!”
The prince came, and the tickling worsened without stopping. The thrumming inside the gold box vibrated his penis and after a few moments, he came again (loudly, while he begged not to have to, “PLEEHEEHEE - UUNNNGGG NO aahahahahahaa AHAHAHA!”) - despite the tickling, through the tickling.
Aerik came again. He didn’t want to come anymore, and he started to weep - but the tickling continued and he came again and again, in rapid succession. He choked and wept as the tickling continued, crazed laughter overcoming his frustration after several long minutes. He laughed his fool head off until he came, again.
When Aerik was so exhausted he could barely cry, Malkiore opened the lid of the box and the buzzing tickles ceased. Sticky jizz dripped from the lid and down the pink, spent dick. Malkiore removed it from the box, and Aerik jerked at the sensation but otherwise didn’t move from the floor.
“I wonder, now, if you have anything you would like to share with me?” Malkiore asked, pulling a clean cloth from his sleeve and wiping the prince’s dick with a steady hand.
Aerik groaned and let out a breathy giggle. “I...heh heh … will...not.” He was fixated on the sensation of being cleaned off, it felt tingly and he expected to be tickled any second. He took long, slow breaths trying to recover as much as he could. He didn’t want to lift his head.
“Oh, yes you will.” Malkiore put the dick and balls back in the box.
“NO, no, no, please, no,” Aerik begged immediately, eyes fixated on the torture box with his dick and balls inside. He couldn’t help but beg desperately. “Please, PLEASE! Please NO! No, please, don’t close the lid!”
Malkiore looked him in the eyes, and flipped the lid closed.
It was worse than before. Aerik’s eyes bulged and screams roared from his throat as the tickling ripped through his dick. His balls quaked, his dick head pulsed and squirted, weakly. He cackled like a madman as his nerves frayed, and his dick spurted weakly again.
“AAAAAHHHHHHH UNGGHHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHHHHHHH!”
“Tell me your seecreets Aeeerrik!” Malkiore taunted. “I know you have secrets to teeeelll meee!”
Aerik thrashed on the floor, holding his crotch uselessly as he screamed and shrieked and laughed. His throat and ribs hurt from the forced laughter and his muscles cramped from the constant clenching. Malkiore lifted the lid of the box and placed the box on the arm of his chair.
Aerik slumped on the floor, sobbing and giggling, and gasped for breath.
“Tell me.”
Aeriek took several long breaths. “No.”
Malkiore sighed. “It sounds like you need some time to think. Please get back in your box.”
Aerik’s eyes shot open again. “WHat! Oh no, no no please! Please not the box again!”
His body began to unroll itself and his hands pressed into the ground, hoisting him up - he was not in control. He crawled himself to the box and stepped in on his belly like a lizard, lying on his face and stomach with his legs bent back. “No no no no no! Stop! Stop please no!”
The lid to the box snapped closed. Aerik heard the muffled sound of robes running along the outside, and tickling nails began to prickle he heels of his bare feet. He groaned and his feet flexed. Malkiore’s hands stopped them, and held both feet still. Aerik cried out in fear, but nothing happened.
He felt loops of string wrap around each toe, and they were pulled taught backwards - this stretched the raw soles of his feet down toward the ground. The soles were taut and pink.
“Aerik, listen to me,” the wizard said. “These strings are tied to small sticks wedged under the lid of the little gold box I just showed you. If you curl your toes, the sticks will be pulled out, and the lid will close.”
Aerik moaned with anxiety. One fingernail began to scratch delicately at the ball of the foot under each big toe and he growled and thumped from inside the box, careful not to kick his feet.
“Your stubbornness has kept me up too late, Aerik. I shall retire, and return tomorrow to see if you have changed your mind. If you tell me everything, then the tickling will stop.”
The robes rustled, and Aerik could hear footsteps leave the room. A large door slammed shut. Aerik heard nothing but his ragged breathing inside the box.
Then, the scratching began on his feet. First on the insides of his ankles, then up into the heels and up the arches toward the pulled-back toes. A shrieky whine escaped his lips as the tickling sensations raced up his legs and his feet twitched with the effort to not curl his toes. Scratching nails crawled up his soles to the balls of his feet, which were pinched - pinch pinch pinch - and under the toes, scritch scritch scritch. Aerik’s whining became forced, unhappy giggles.
“MMM hhMMM hMM hMM HMMMMMM! HMMHMMRRRHERR HERR HERR HERR HERR!”
The scratching increased and in moments it felt as if thousands of spiders with steel feet scraped and scrambled, pinched and tickled all over his feet.
Aerik squealed and laughed inside the box, thrashing his body because he could not, dared not, curl his toes. Deep, relentless pinches, again and again, attached the undersides of his big toes and he growled and laughed.
As the muscles in Aerik’s feet twitched with exhaustion and he thought he was about to fail, the tickling suddenly stopped. He panted and gasped, heaving inside the box. Tears streamed down his eyes, and his face was sticky with saliva and sweat. He wept silently.
Until fingers wiggled under his arms, and down his ribs. Tickling, groping, jabbing fingers found the deepest curve in his pits and pinched ferociously. They rubbed deeply into the muscles above his kneecaps; they poked and massaged his buttocks, skittering into his ass crack. He clenched and howled. .
Fingers knuckled his kidneys and lobster-clawed his ticklish flanks, using pincers to jab up and down his sides. They grabbed and poked his belly and his hips. The sensations attacked his body in the otherwise sensory-free box - and the suddenness of the attack startled him into an endless hysterical belly laugh.
It barely made a sound, hoarse and wheezing as he was, but the sensations were as loud as they could be. How could they tickle him so deftly when he was tucked tight? It felt worse than when he was stretched up and exposed; he couldn’t stretch if he wanted to.
Fingers wandered up his chest and into his ears and he shook his head back and forth, uselessly.
Aerik wheezed and gasped, unable to laugh enough to express how much he was being tickled. A hand crawled down his ass and between the backs of his thighs, the fingers pinching where his perineum me his asscrack. He shrieked soundlessly and kicked his feet, his toes curling half way - his eyes shot open in the dark box and he thrashed and waited, but nothing happened to his dick.
He sagged with relief and the tickling in his body stopped. He gasped and whined, not sure he could take any more. The tickling began again on his feet, and was as merciless as ever - pointy, relentless, scrambling from heels to toes, up and down. He wheezed and kicked and just when he thought he would succumb, it stopped.
And began again on his body, this time soft and tender tickles - light and rapid, up and down his ass and legs, his back and sides, his belly and chest. Fluttery tickles in his pits even though his arms were tucked to his sides.
“HHRRNNNGN Nooo noooo no no,” he moaned, “aha ahaha ahahahahah HAHAHAHAH!”
Aerik made it five more rounds of light tickling then rough tickling before the sensation of teeth gnawing at the tender pink toes broke him. With a soundless squeal, Aerik curled his desperate toes away from the teeth, and felt the sticks pop out from the lid of the box.
As it snapped closed the merciless vibrating tickles enveloped his hypersensitive genitals. He shrieked and kicked and thrashed in the box, the relentless tickling ripping his mind and throat apart. How long could a wizard keep him alive? How long could he live like this?
The lids of both boxes remained closed until the prince passed out. They were closed when he was jolted awake by the continued zapping tickles through his exhausted penis, and he lost consciousness again as he was wracked by orgasm after weak orgasm. The prince’s body never tired, which he guessed was magic; his mind was addled by overload and he had no sense of time.
Eventually, the tickling in his dick stopped. The lid to the boxes had been opened, and Malkiore said, “Have anything to tell me, little tickle prince?
“UUuunnghhh,” Aerik moaned, barely able to turn his head enough to see his captor.
“No?” said the wizard with a shrug, and began lowering the lid of the box. “I’ll come back tomorrow, then.”
“NO WAIT! WAIT AHAHA AH no… no I…I’ll TALK please PLEASE! I’ll TALK!”
“Hmm?” Malkiore opened the lid, and one bloodshot eye strained to look up at him from inside the box.
“My father is dying,” Aerik sobbed with defeat. “And my brother will take the throne before year’s end. My uncle is to send protection and teachers, to help train my brother to be a proper King.”
Malkiore snorted a laugh. “Oh, is that it? Your father died two days ago, while we were still in the forest. Your kingdom was infiltrated and attacked, and your brother has fallen to your uncle’s troops. There is chaos between the two lands, and you are presumed dead.
“Which means you are mine, now. No one will come looking for you, and there is no message to keep hidden.”
Malkiore’s dark eyes sparkled with glee as he lifted his fingers up, wiggling them with malice.
“NO! NO, YOU’RE LYING! Stop! No, please!” the prince cried, overloaded with desperate information.
Malkiore chuckled as he picked the ornate box up off the floor. Aerik wiggled furiously in his cramped quarters, sensitive feet flapping. “Come now, why would it matter? Now, where were we?”
The wizard reached in the box and began to lightly scritch the head of the prince’s flaccid penis. “Ah, yes. Tickle tickle tiiiickle!”
As his mouth twisted into a tight smile, a wave of healing cold flushed over Aerik - he felt refreshed and completely recovered. His dick felt semi-erect and sensitive as if he had not come in days, so the wizard’s fingers made him squirm.
As he broke into angry giggles, the invisible fingers invited themselves into his trembling crevices.
After a few seconds watching Aerik wiggle, Malkiore said suddenly “well, now, I have some important wizardry to do today - so I will see you this evening, after supper.”
Aerik’s eyes shot open with realization and as he shrieked a delirious protest, the lids of both boxes slammed shut.
End.
