A commission courtesy of sam23bll on DeviantArt. An invading king is quite insistent on marrying into the royal family of the nation he's invaded. I guess tickling is involved to a certain extent.
Bloody hell, is this seriously the first time I've done an M/F story? I've done MF/F before, but I think this is legitimately the first time I've had the tickler(s) be male only.
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Lucille Dupont had come to a conclusion. Hearing the towering front doors of the castle shake after each blow of the invaders’ siege weapons had been bad, but it had been far preferable to the silence afterwards. A thundering crash had echoed throughout the castle signifying that the thick wooden doors had shattered followed by the brief sounds of fighting from the invaders meeting the last of the castle guard. The ensuing silence that began a few minutes later made her sick to her stomach. She’d seen just how large the enemy army was from her bedroom window before the maids had come to lead her into the safety of the cellars. It could only mean one thing for the sounds of fighting to die down so quickly.
They’d lost. Castle Candalholme had fallen. Lucille’s hands tightened into fists out of frustration. They hadn’t even lasted a day. The entirety of Shuvell Kingdom had been overrun in less than a month. Okay, they admittedly were among the smallest of the 12 kingdoms and you could cross the length of their borders in half a week on a decent horse, but to fall so quickly was pathetic. Lucille felt like she could’ve done something to help prevent this. She was 20-years-old now. Most of the knights that had been out fighting on the frontline were younger than her. But instead of doing anything to prevent her kingdom from falling, she’d been kept out of the way in her room and was now hiding in a cellar with her mother and sister as the invaders quite literally broke down their front door.
A quick glance around the cellar told Lucille that she wasn’t the only one frustrated by the situation. Her sister Abigail, the younger of the pair at 18, was gripping the arms of the chair she sat in with enough force for her knuckles to go white. That usually emotive, tomboyish princess was now sporting a stony expression of barely contained anger burning behind her sky blue eyes. Abigail clearly hadn’t been expecting the opposing army to reach Candalholme today anymore than Lucille. The maids had dressed her in an ornately embroidered navy blue dress with big puffy sleeves and a skirt that touched the ground more suitable for standing around in court than fleeing enemy soldiers.
Not that Lucille had much room to comment on that front. Abigail at least had her flowing golden locks cut to a little above shoulder length. It helped keep it out of the way when she was out joining all the men on one of their hunts, from what Lucille understood. Lucille was wearing an equally cumbersome forest green dress in the same style as Abigail’s, the maids had said something about “matching outfits” when dressing her, and she’d allowed her hair to grow out past her shoulder blades. The wisdom of her sister’s hairstyle was growing more apparent on reflection. The idea of getting her hair tangled in on some vegetation if they had to flee through the surrounding forests made the princess wince a little.
Their mother, Queen Evelyne Dupont, had a more worried expression. She was a homely 37-year-old woman, towering at 5’9” compared to Lucill’s 5’0” and Abigails 5’3”, and the two princesses had clearly inherited their blonde hair and blue eyes from her. Unlike her daughters, who let their hair hang freely, Evelyne had chosen to wind hers up into a tight bun on the back of her head. The rest was more of a mixed bag. Lucille had gotten their father’s slighter frame and sharper face while Abigail had gotten the face, but had been blessed with their mother’s D-cup bosom and wide hips. The queen was kneeling at a nearby table with her hands grasped in prayer. It didn’t take a genius to guess who she was praying for. Her husband and their father, King Frederick Dupont, had gone up to join the defenders after seeing to his family’s safety. Lucille knew it was no good to be a cynic, but she couldn’t help but feel that the fact that the fighting was already over didn’t bode well for their father’s fate.
A loud noise from the doorway made all three Dupont women jump with fright. Something was slamming against the heavy wooden door. The three women backed away into the furthest corner from the door, Queen Evelyne standing protectively in front of her two daughters. They watched with trepidation as whatever it was slammed into the doorway again and again, cracks spidering their way across the sturdy wood with each blow, until it couldn’t handle the strain anymore. The door flew over to slam against the wall with a deafening crash. Soldiers in blood red livery with a stylized phoenix emblazoned on their armor streamed into the room. One carried a handheld battering ram while the rest held their spears pointed at the cornered Duponts.
Finally, a young man entered the room. It was difficult to distinguish him among the soldiers at first thanks to his matching armor, but it became clear that he was no commoner when he removed his helmet. He had a handsome, clean shaven face noticeably lacking the weathered appearance the surrounding soldiers sported. Lucille felt it was best not to underestimate him though. The man’s armor was just as covered with blood as the other soldiers.
The man put on a friendly smile completely at odds with the situation and took a deep bow. “Greetings, fair maidens. My name is Alexander Thibault, the current reigning king of Esigriba. Would you happen to be the good ladies ruling over this estate?”
“No, we’re scullery maids. People of no import.” Lucille had never heard a more bald-faced lie come out of her mother’s mouth. Alexander’s mouth twitched with amusement hearing it as well.
“Shame. I suppose I should’ve asked the women in grubby smocks above first. As the conquering lord, I was hoping to consolidate my victory by taking the royal ladies as my brides.” The Duponts bristled at the casualness with which Alexander proclaimed his intentions. ‘Consolidate his victory’? Like they were nothing more than prizes for him to take?
“By what right do you have to do this?” Abigail suddenly spoke up. Lucille hurriedly tried to hush her sister, but it was a lost cause. There wasn’t much anyone could do to stop Abby after she got an idea into her head. “Why did you attack us? What gives you the right to march into our home and force yourself upon us?”
Alexander opened his mouth briefly to answer, then shut it. His friendly smile had taken an uncertain waver to it. He glanced over to the soldier standing at attention right behind him.
“Captain, do you happen to have this ‘right’ on your person?” The soldier made a show of looking around before pointing a finger at the spear gripped in his hand.
“I’ve got a spear, Milord,” he offered.
“Captain, that isn’t a right.”
“It isn’t, Milord?”
“No. A right is something that gives you authorization to do something. A spear is a length of wood with a sharp bit at the end.”
“Well, we got a whole lot of ‘em, Milord. Is a bunch of spears called a right?” Alexander and the captain briefly stared at each other, then the young king turned back to the Duponts with a smile.
“Well, there you have it, ladies. We’re here by the right of ‘We’ve got a whole bunch of lengths of wood with sharp bits at the end’. It seemed to be a perfectly sound argument for the fine men upstairs at least.” Queen Evelyne sneered at him.
“I take it you think you’re funny,” she snapped.
“Hilarious. My old jester would be proud. He taught me everything I know about the art of joculating and tomfoolery.” Alexander shot Evelyne his most charming smile yet. “I’ve always been fond of laughter. Women especially. The court jester was one of my best teachers in that regard.”
“Well take your ‘right’ and do what you will with us, but you’ll never get us to consent to marriage,” Lucille interjected.
“We’ll die before we marry the likes of you!” Abigail shouted, bolstered by her sister’s words. The soldiers all took a threatening step forwards. Alexander raised his hand to stop them.
“There’ll be no need for that, gentlemen. I’m certain these ladies will see the folly of their decision with a little persuasion.” His raised hand transitioned to pointing at the cornered Duponts. “Restrain them,” he ordered.
The soldiers surged forward to drag the Dupont women out of their corner. No matter how the three ladies struggled or protested, they couldn’t hope to resist the large men grabbing them by the arms and dragging them into the center of the room. Some of the soldiers had lengths of ropes stored away in their packs that were used to bind them to available pieces of furniture. Queen Evelyne was tied sitting to a chair while Abigail was forcibly stretched out over the room’s table. Her legs had to be pushed open in a decidedly unladylike way in order for her ankles to be bound to the table’s legs with her feet facing the floor. Another chair had to be retrieved from upstairs to restrain Lucille, who was left with her arms tied to the armrests and her ankles bound to a footrest in front of her.
What Lucille found most disquieting was that the soldiers seemed to be making a point of taking off all of their shoes while they were being bound to leave them barefoot. Lucille had a bit of a complex about leaving her feet bare. Ever since Abigail had learned just how extraordinarily ticklish Lucille’s feet were, she would exploit it to bully her older sister into keeping quiet about her unsupervised forays out into the woods. It wasn’t uncommon in Castle Candalholme to hear Lucille’s laughter ringing throughout the halls from Abigail putting her ankles in a headlock and scrabbling her nails all over her baby soft soles until the older princess agreed to whatever the younger wanted.
Alexander seemed to notice Lucille’s discomfort. The princess’ heart leapt into her throat seeing the strapping young man come strolling in her direction. She nearly screamed when he stepped around to her side and extended his hands towards her sides. Her body automatically tried to jerk away. Alexander’s hands froze seeing her reaction. She didn’t like the mischievous glint that came to his eye.
“Oh, you know what’s coming next? Good.” Alexander’s hands lunged forward to squeeze her sides in between his fingertips. Lucille arched her back with a strangled shriek feeling the fingers dig into the sensitive flesh. “I like a little fear in a girl.”
“W-what are you doing?” Abigail cried in shock.
“Get away from her! Stop this instant!” Evelyne yelled at the same time.
Alexander ignored both of them in favor of continuing to squeeze Lucille’s sides. Lucille desperately wanted to tell him to stop, but she couldn’t afford to. Screwing her mouth shut was all she could do to keep the giggles produced by each squeeze contained. Her dress was barely any protection in the face of his strong fingers. Alexander would sink his fingers in to squeeze her sides before moving to another random spot on her flanks for another go. Lucille’s body jerked and spasmed with each squeeze while her face screwed up with concentration in an effort to keep from laughing.
“Sides seem sensitive. Let’s try the ribs next,” Alexander mused aloud. Lucille really wished he hadn’t. The threat that he was going to go up to her ribs next caused her eyes to open wide with fear. “That’s a nice reaction. I take it your ribs are nice and ticklish, madam?” Alexander taunted. The side squeezing transitioned to digging his fingertips in between her ribs. “Yep, this is a good spot, alright.
Lucille nearly bucked hard enough to upend the chair when Alexander made his way to her rib cage. Abigail had tickled her in the ribs before and while it hadn’t been nearly as bad as when her sister had assaulted her feet, it was still the second most ticklish part of her body. Her face was going red from the strain of not laughing. It was only her stubborn refusal to give the man who had attacked their castle the pleasure of making her laugh that allowed her to keep it in.
“Stop! Stop tickling her there!” Abigail was yelling.
“Let her go, you bastard!” Alexander let out a small sigh. Evelyne and Abigail hadn’t stopped yelling at him this entire time, and it was looking to Lucille like he was starting to get a little disgruntled by it. He stopped tickling briefly to turn and address the soldiers still in the room.
“Gentlemen, could you please do something to keep these fair ladies quiet? Something to occupy their mouths should do.” Several of the soldiers nodded in acknowledgement. The armored men marched smartly across the room to the two yelling Duponts. The two women’s protests went ignored as they pulled out knives and began cutting away at the hems of their dresses. The fabric was cut into long strips that were tied into knots and shoved into Evelyne and Abigail’s mouths, rendering further attempts at shouting unintelligible.
“Ah, blessed silence. As my father used to say, silence is golden.” Alexander gave Lucille a conspiratorial wink.”Wouldn’t you say, Ms. Dupont? Now, where were we? I believe you were about to show me how beautiful your laugh was.”
Lucille was so caught up watching her mother and sister be gagged that she’d stopped paying attention to Alexander. She didn’t notice that the man had made his way around to crouch at her feet until she felt his calloused fingers prod her soles. Lucille nearly jumped out of her skin. It was like lightning had coursed up her leg. A burst of laughter nearly made its way past her lips before she could hold it back.
“I’m guessing by your reaction that you have sensitive feet. It must be fate that we met today, Ms. Dupont. The only thing second to me to a woman’s laugh is for her to have nice feet, and you seem to have both in abundance. One seems to lead to the other, really.”
The bound princess was really starting to hate the conversational tone Alexander kept up when he was clearly doing all this to make her suffer. He could at least match up his words to the way his fingers were viciously poking and prodding all over her creamy white soles. Holding back her laughter was starting to get painful. Each ticklish touch threatened to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Her legs attempted to kick each time the fingers came back, but she couldn’t escape. Alexander had his boot firmly planted on the footrest next to her legs and her ankles were too firmly tied to it for her to move. The best she could do was wiggle her feet as fast as possible.
“StohohoHOP! By the lohord stoHOHOP THAHATHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!” Eventually, it proved too much for Lucille to handle anymore. A gasp managed to escape when Alexander’s fingers had made contact with her long toes. Once that was out it was impossible to stop her body from letting the rest of the laughter follow. Lucille threw her head back. Peals of laughter freely flowed through her mouth.
Lucille had grown up convinced that Abigail’s tickling had been bad. She’d dreaded the thought of her sister getting it in her head that the best option for getting her way was to grab her by the ankles again. It had always tickled so badly that she had never even conceptualized that a more skilled tickler could make it even worse. Alexander clearly had skill to spare when it came to abusing a helpless woman’s flesh. He struck with pinpoint precision to target hot spots he’d found across her feet for maximum effect. Feeling his calloused digits digging into that spot at the base of her toes or rubbing a vulnerable stretch on her instep tickled far worse than Abigail’s wildly flailing fingers ever had. Abigail’s nails had been bad. This was agony. Alexander tormented her soles with such precision and unpredictability that the only thing the bound girl could do was inelegantly blabber pleas of mercy in between the endless streams of laughter being wrung out of her lungs.
“I have to say, Captain, I’m always impressed with how efficiently you carry out orders. I wasn’t expecting you to get back for another hour at the least. Do be a friend and bring it all over here, would you?” The soldiers Alexander had sent off on an errand returned nearly 15 minutes later. They filed in through the door carrying large boxes between them. The young man turned around to praise them without letting his ticklish assault on Lucille’s feet slow down. At this point, the princess was throwing her head back and cackling with forced mirth. Tears of agony were beginning to drip in the corners of her eyes.
“I figured you’d been having a long day, Milord. I had the coachman drive your cart up to the front steps after we secured the area. Thought a bit of fun to end the day on a high note would do you some good.”
“Good man! You are a true friend, sir.” Alexander beamed with delight at the captain’s foresight. Abigail and Evelyne, already quite disturbed over having watched Lucille being tickle tortured, were shaken by the sheer casualness of the conversation between the two while Lucille continued to shriek with agony right beside them. The captain was pulling some sort of contraption out of one of the boxes they’d brought down. It appeared to be some sort of metal box with a pair of rollers extending off the ends of long metal arms. Neither woman had any doubt what the device was supposed to do thanks to the myriad feathers sticking out of each roller.
While the captain was getting the device setup. Alexander stepped up his ticklish attack on Lucille’s vulnerable soles. The calloused tips of his fingers immediately darted back around to gently scratch at the lengths of each long digit. That was the final straw for poor Lucille. Hysterical screams of laughter echoed throughout the cellar. The bound princess’ entire body shook with the effort of producing laughter loud enough to relay how much she was suffering at the moment.
She finally got a break several minutes later after the captain finished setting up the strange machine. Lucille was left wheezing, her meager chest heaving as she took in lungfuls of air for the first time in nearly 20 minutes. She looked down with bleary eyes and felt her heart nearly stop. Alexander and the captain had arranged the device at her feet so that the rollers were right in front of her much abused soles. Some of the feathers were already pressed up against her feet.
“This little thing is truly a marvel. Some wizard back in my kingdom managed to trap lightning in a box!” Alexander giggled at the absurdity of his own explanation. “He had one of the artificers make it so that all I have to do is pull a little lever inside and the boxed lightning will make the rollers spin. Once that starts, well, I’m certain a smart girl like you can figure out what’ll happen.”
“Oh lord, no. Please. No more. I surrender. I can’t take it! I’ll marry you! Please!” Lucille blubbered with terror. Had the tickling thus far not been enough for this madman? Why did he have to make her suffer even more? The princess didn’t manage to force the questions through her fear before Alexander fiddled with something inside the box. The machine bounced, sputtered, and began to produce a strange humming noise. Then, true to her sadistic tormentor’s words, the rollers began to rotate.
Lucille was quickly reduced to hysterics again. She was too broken down and exhausted to resist anymore. The rollers were bringing a bevy of different feathers to stroke her feet from the tips of her toes to her heels in long sweeps. There was an astounding variety to the sensations coursing up her legs. Long, stiff eagle feathers were making contact with her feet at the same time as fuzzy down and everything in between. Every section of the helpless girl’s feet was sending a different ticklish signal all at the same time. Lucille was left leaning back in her chair, head whipping every which way with her lungs working overtime to force screams of laughter to reverberate off the walls. The captain had to produce some little wooden braces from a different box and nail the legs of both Lucille’s chair and her footrest to the floor to keep her struggles from tipping her over. As a final touch to her torment, the captain cut a long strip off the edge of her dress and formed it into another gag. Lucille’s screams of laughter were muffled after the two men secured the knot of the gag in her mouth.
Alexander and the captain stepped back to admire their work for a bit. After a bit, the young man turned to the soldier.
“Thanks for all of your help. Now, not that I don’t enjoy your company, but could you please give us all some privacy? I think the girls and I should all get a little more comfortable.” The captain snapped off a parade-worthy salute and turned to exit the room. The rest of Alexander’s entourage took the hint and started to file out of the room, leaving the conquering king alone with the three bound Duponts. Alexander shouted one last thing after them. “Gentlemen! Feel free to help yourself to any ale you find. Don’t hold back on my account. I believe I’ll be busy for a while yet.” A collective cheer from the departing soldiers made its way down the stairwell before Alexander closed the broken door as best he could. HIs spear had to be repurposed as a makeshift bar in order to hold it closed.
Abigail screamed into her gag. The moment they were alone in the room, Alexander pulled a knife out of his belt and began to approach her. ‘Is he seriously going to kill me now?’ she fearfully thought. The tomboy princess squeezed her eyes shut and braced for the sensation of the knife piercing her flesh. Instead, all she felt was her dress being tugged followed by a tearing sound. There was suddenly a draft across her upper body. Abigail cracked an eye open and screamed again, this time out of mortification. Alexander had made rather efficient use of his knife to cut her dress off as quickly as possible. A few more swipes were all it took to tear apart her underwear and leave the bound princess lying naked on the table.
Alexander repeated the process on Queen Evelyne and Lucille, though with Lucille he had some difficulty thanks to how much she was struggling. Abigail continued to attempt to hurl abuse at him through her gag through it all only to be struck dumb when Alexander began to remove his armor. A blush came over the young princess’ face watching the man disrobe. She didn’t know where to look. Alexander was on a completely different level of handsome compared to the men she was used to at court. Everywhere from his calves to his six pack to his broad shoulder had the cut muscle definition of a man who hadn’t neglected to train his entire body. His skin had a faint sheen of sweat that helped accentuate his features with a glisten she found downright erotic.
But what really caught her attention was his penis standing erect at attention. Abigail’s blush deepend. On one hand, as a princess she’d been taught that it was improper to take an interest in that part of the opposite sex. On the other, she was an 18-year-old girl with an active libido and no experience past the head maid’s lectures on what it took to bear children. They hadn’t even had pictures. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his manhood at the same time she was embarrassed to look at it.
“Sorry about that,” Alexander apologized with a sheepish smile. “That armor is really quite heavy. I swear, I sweat like a pig if I keep it on for more than a couple hours. Not that you seem to mind, from the looks of it.” The wink he shot her made Abigail’s heart flutter. If he’d been one of the young nobles at court instead of an insane sadist who’d spent his entire time here torturing her sister, his unending charm would’ve tempted her into give courting him a try.
As it was, Abigail squirmed away as best her bondage would let her when the naked young man began to approach her. She did her best to conceal her terror with a glare, but the bound girl wasn’t quite good enough at concealing her emotions to pull it off. Alexander chuckled at her obvious fear, kneeled down at the foot of the table, and began to trace the pads of her fingers from the back of her heels up to her toes.
While Lucille often complained about how often Abigail tickled her feet, Abigail knew for a fact that her sister knew her own feet were no less sensitive. Her games at tickling Lucille’s tender soles had rarely gone without retaliation. If anything, her older sister was actually the more sadistic of the two. Abigail suspected that Lucille was playing the victim when she left out the parts about how she would tie her younger sister’s ankles together with a length of rope and let both of her ticklish soles feel the wrath of all 10 fingers for minutes at a time. Abigail was fully aware of what it was like to be helplessly bound at the mercy of a sadistic tickler intent on making her suffer. The fear that Alexander would turn to her next had wound her up tighter than a spring ever since he had begun to torment Lucille.
All of that anticipation burst out the moment his fingers made contact in the form of squeals of laughter. Alexander chuckled with delight. He took a great deal of pleasure out of watching how Abigail’s large breasts would quiver and shake as her body danced at his fingers’ command. After a couple minutes of persistent foot tickling her giggles had upgraded to a steady stream of laughter. Alexander stopped briefly to undo her gag. In his opinion, a woman’s laugh was best heard unrestrained, especially when it had that panicked, anguished tone that came from the laughter being brought about by sensitive skin being abused.
“You bastard! Stop tickling me. I bet you wouldn’t be so eager to touch me if I was untied!” Abigail immediately began shouting the moment her gag came free. Alexander tutted at her with a look of amusement.
“Such unladylike language! Have your parents not taught you how a woman should talk to a man?” Alexander made his way back to kneel at the foot of the table again. Abigail could barely see the top of his head if she craned her neck. “I suppose, as your future husband, I’ll have to instill some discipline in you myself.”
Abigail realized to her horror that the tickling she’d suffered thus far had only been light teasing. Alexander was really digging in to punish her now. His calloused fingertips were viciously scrabbling against her heels, rubbing against the balls of her feet, and poking all over her heels. Abigail arched her back and let out a high pitched scream of laughter before descending into a steady stream of laughter. Her body twisted this way and that in an attempt to escape. It was hopeless. Nothing she did prevented Alexander from tunneling in on every spot that tickled badly enough to extract another shriek of laughter out of her.
“StohoHOP! BahastardHEHEHEHAHA! Stohop it yohohou FUHUHCKER! Lehet MEhe gohoHOEHEHAHAHAHA!” Abigail cursed and screamed in between demands that she be released as Alexander abused her soles. While Alexander took amusement out of her defiance at first, he began to tire of it as time went on. After roughly 10 minutes, he stopped tickling and walked over to one of the boxes his soldier had brought in. His position at the bottom of the table had given him a clear view of how wet Abigail’s groin was becoming from the stimulation and that was giving him an idea. Abigail wheezed in as much air as she could from the unexpected break.
“I’m beginning to suspect you haven’t really internalized what sort of situation you’re in yet, Ms. Dupont.” Alexander sighed. He’d fished out a thick metal stick with a bulbous ball of leather on the end. Flicking a switch on the metal portion caused it to produce a soft humming sound.
“W-what’s that?” Abigail asked, voice trembling.
“Another little invention the artificer made for me. He built a device that vibrates when hooked up to the boxed lightning. He made it in the name of helping quell women’s histrionics, but I find that it’s better used in more… persuasive applications.” Alexander pressed the crude vibrator against the moistened folds of Abigail’s womanhood. The bound princess let out a gasp. Her hips bucked involuntarily. An unfamiliar sensation shot through her groin. “I couldn’t help but notice how wet you were down here ever since I disrobed you. Were you perhaps a little more aroused to see me naked than a proper lady should be?”
“Wha-what’s going on?” she gasped. The unfamiliar sensation was flooding her brain with pink mist. She involuntarily found herself moaning under the stimulation.
“Is this your first time being brought to orgasm, Ms. Dupont? I’m a lucky man, to be sure.” Abigail could feel something building inside of her. The pink mist was completely obscuring everything else now. But right as the building arousal was about to explode inside of her, Alexander suddenly switched off the vibrator, dropped it on the table, and dug his fingers into her exposed armpits.
Abigail screamed in agony. The foot abuse from earlier had tickled. What she was experiencing now tickled. Her building arousal had caused her body’s sensitivity to shoot through the roof to the point where her armpits, never terribly sensitive before, were now worse than her feet had been. The princess’ hips repeatedly arched into the air and slammed her butt back down hard enough to make the table shake as screams continued to pour out of her mouth. Alexander punished her increased sensitivity for several more minutes before grabbing the vibrator again.
“You see, Ms. Dupont, you aren’t in a position to make demands of me at the moment.” He switched the evil little device back on and nestled it into her crotch again. Abigail realized after it made contact that she wasn’t aroused anymore. The intense tickles had overwhelmed the pink haze to leave her all the way back at the start. Even so, she couldn’t prevent herself from moaning as the waves of pleasure began to spread through her again. “You don’t even have enough control over this situation to dictate whether you get to orgasm or not.”
“Don’t do that. Get that thing away from me!” Abigail cried, realizing the cruel game Alexander had in store for her.
Alexander proved to be almost disturbingly good at telling when Abigail was on the edge of an orgasm. He’d consistently switch off the vibrator seconds before it could bring her to climax and take the pleasure away by leaning down to rake his nails across her bound feet. Blood-curdling screams filled the cellar every time he did. The virginal, sheltered princess couldn’t have conceived of how horrible it would feel to alternate between being edged and tickled. After the second time he brought her to edge she begged for mercy like her life depended on it. For the third she could barely babble. After the fourth, fifth, and sixth, the only sounds coming out of her throat anymore were moans of desire and ear splitting screams of agony.
“Now, has our little lady understood what’s going on now?” Abigail looked at her tormentor’s almost kindly face through the tears welling in her eyes and sniffed.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she said in a small voice. Her sniffs turned into a hiccup. “Please. F-f-f-forgive me…” The tears began to leak down her face. Once they started, she couldn’t stop them anymore. Abigail began to wail with misery. Never in her life had she thought it was possible to be made to suffer this much.
“Good. Here’s a little present for being a good girl and apologizing.” Alexander switched on the vibrator again and pressed it against her clit. Abigail began to moan again. Her hips pressed up against the vibrator, hungry to finally achieve release. The pink mist was filling her head again.
“Just kidding.” At the very last second, Alexander switched off the vibrator again. A huge smile had spread across his face. He honestly looked to the bound princess like he was barely suppressing laughter at her expense. Abigail stared frozen with horror. She couldn’t believe the depths of cruelty this man had. Alexander walked back to the box he’d gotten the crude vibrator out of. A second was dug out along with a couple wooden stands. Both stands were placed right beneath Abigail’s feet and the vibrators were nestled in the holders on top. Abigail squirmed uncomfortably. The bulbs of each vibrator were nestled squarely against her arches.
Hysterical peals of laughter once again began to reverberate off the walls after Alexander switched both vibrators on. It was nothing compared to the skill of the man’s fingers, but Abigail was exhausted, horny out of her mind, and well past her limits to withstand further tickling. The vibrations shooting up her legs were more than enough to have her in hysterics within seconds. Alexander let a sense of accomplishment swell inside of him watching the tomboy princess’ naked body buck on the table. He liked tomboys. Their willpower appealed to him. It always felt like he’d managed to accomplish something when he tickled a strong willed woman into apologizing to him in tears like Abigail had.
Alexander walked back to the boxes to grab his third, and final, vibrator before strolling over to stand in front of Queen Evelyne. He liked the expression on her face. Her soft, rounded face was twisted with distress over having watched her two daughters be tortured right in front of her that was mixing with a solid helping of terror at the prospect that she was next.
“Hello, Queen Dupont. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Your two lovely daughters had me preoccupied,” Alexander said. He reached around to undo the gag’s knot and freed the length of cloth from her mouth.
“Please, let them go. I’ll marry you. I’ll do anything you want. Just please, for the love of the lord, stop this,” Evelyne begged the moment her mouth was free. Alexander shook his head with a said expression.
“I’m going to have to decline, my fair lady.” A flick of his finger turned on the vibrator in his hand. Evelyne buried her body as far back into her chair with fright, but couldn’t escape having the little torture device being pressed into her crotch. The queen grit her teeth to prevent from moaning under the influence of the surging pleasure. “You see, from my viewpoint, you’re agreeing to marry me in order to make the tickling stop. While it’s admirable for you to try to sacrifice yourself to save your daughters, the tickling is ultimately nothing more than a little game for me.”
Alexander’s free hand came up to grab a handful of one of Evelyne’s exposed breasts. He kneaded the giant mound of flesh and gently teased her stiffening nipples between his fingers. It was too much for Evelyen to handle. Groans of arousal made their way between her clenched teeth.
“You see, my father was a very wise man. He taught me that there was a difference between having a woman do as you ordered to make the tickling stop and having her obey because she’s submitted herself to you body, mind, and soul.” Alexander sported a fond smile at the memory. It looked to him like she was getting pretty close to an orgasm. He decided it was time for another little game. “Now, as a little exercise, I’m going to need you to ask me for permission to climax. It wouldn’t do to have my future wife cumming without my consent, after all.”
“I hope the rats eat you alive,” Evelyne snarled in defiance. The queen drew her head back briefly and lobbed a ball of spit straight at Alexander’s face. It landed squarely on his cheek. The young king wiped it off with the back of his hand.
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed,” he chided. With a surge of his muscles, the young man grabbed the chair Evelyne was sitting on and tipped it over. He gently guided it to the floor so she was lying on her back. With her feet bound to the legs of the chair, her feet were now wiggling in the air. “But I suppose this proves my point, so we can roll with it.” There was no teasing this time. Alexander went in straight for the kill. His fingers scrabbled all over Evelyne’s helpless soles.
It was a little known fact that Queen Evelyne had never let King Frederick touch her feet throughout the entire 20 years of their marriage. Not once had she allowed her husband to touch her feet out of fear that he would have the poor humor to give her a quick tickle. There was little she dreaded more than being tickled. The Queen knew all too well what it was like to be on the receiving end of her daughters’ little back and forth tickling war. Her siblings had put her through far worse growing up than either of her daughters ever got up to. It was a point of shame for her to have learned that both had inherited her sensitive soles, all the more so now that they were at the mercy of a sadist who was proving gleeful to exploit the fact.
Evelyne’s body spasmed with enough force every time the fingers made contact to make her chair bounce off the floor. A shriek worthy of a banshee ripped its way out of her throat. Even though she had watched Abigail be tortured in the exact same manner, she hadn’t been prepared for just how bad it would be to experience it herself. Alexander was in top form now. The way his fingertips traveled over her soles was completely unpredictable.
Alexander hummed to himself. There truly was no better music than a woman’s laughter and no better instrument to play it from than their feet. The sadistic king was truly grateful he’d decided to invade Shuvell Kingdom. He couldn’t remember ever having soles as ticklish as the Dupont family’s under his fingers. Alexander grinned down at Evelyne’s face. She was the best yet. He’d barely been tickling for 5 minutes and she was already screaming loud enough for the whole kingdom to hear. She couldn’t even beg. Every breath of air was being devoted purely to screaming her head off.
She was also looking about ready for another round with vibrator. Alexander grabbed his favorite torture implement fully intent on pressing it against her crotch when an idea struck him. Instead of bringing Evelyne up to the top and smashing her down again, he wanted to see what would happen if he left her suspended near the top instead. The sadistic king grabbed the tattered remains of the queen’s dress and tore it into strips. He nestled the vibrator up against the bound woman’s crotch and used a length of fabric to tie it to her thigh.
Evelyne was too grateful over receiving a break from the tickling to protest at first, but that all changed when Alexander flipped the switch on the vibrator again. Her body convulsed feeling the little device turn on again.
“Oh God, get it off! Stop this thing. Get it away from me!” she cried with horror. Alexander took a step back to admire his handiwork. No matter how the queen attempted to shake her leg, she couldn’t move enough to get the little sex toy away from her womanhood. Gravity pulled it down to press against her engorged pink folds while the fabric kept it in place through all her attempts to dislodge it.
“NohohohoHOHOHO! STOP! NO! PLEHEHEAHASE! HAHAVE MEHERCY! NOHO MOHOREHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!” Evelyne broke down screaming again. Alexander had returned to scratching his nails all over her feet. The queen was in a whole new depth of hell she hadn’t believed possible. Being brought up to the edge of an orgasm only to be dragged back down with tickling had easily been the worst thing she’d ever experienced, but this was managing to be even worse. The waves of pleasure from having her pussy stimulated were mixing with the tickling. They combined together in her mind to multiply off each other into something exponentially worse. The pleasure was bolstering up the tickling into being more horrible than ever before. The tickling was tearing away at the pleasure to prevent her from getting even the slightest bit of joy out of it.
Alexander was content to ease up on the tickling a little. He didn’t want to tickle her so hard that it kept her from getting aroused. What he was aiming for was to walk the tightrope of light enough that she could be brought closer to orgasm by the vibrator, but hard enough that she had no hope of cumming from it. Evelyne’s every last reaction was carefully monitored to see how she was doing. When she began to moan a little too much for Alexander’s liking he’d start tickling harder. If she screamed from touching a hot spot a little too intensely, he’d ease up a little to let her savor the stimulation for a little bit.
The result was Evelyne spending the following 20 minutes bobbing up and down on the edge of an orgasm. Her mind was being overwhelmed by the endless tickling combining with her building sexual frustration. At first she screamed and pleaded for the tickles to stop, but as the tickles continued her frustration started to take over. She needed to cum. More than her pride as a queen or her worry over the fate that awaited her and her daughters under this psychopath, she was facing the ever growing need to orgasm right now. Her pleas slowly died out in favor of gasps, moans, and cries of desire regardless of how hard he scrambled his nails across her feet as punishment.
When Alexander finally gave her a break, Evelyne’s head lolled off to the side. She had a far away look with her eyes clouded with desire. Alexander reached down and flipped the vibrator off.
“No!” Evelyne cried. Her hips bucked desperately in the hopes of eeking out the last bit of stimulation she needed out of the inert machine. “Turn it back on! Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK! I was so close. I was so close! Please!”
“Now now, didn’t I say you needed permission first?” Alexander reached down and grabbed the back of her chair to lift it back up into a sitting position. Evelyne was so distracted by her need to climax that she didn’t fully process the sadistic little smile he was giving her. The young man walked around the room and turned off the feather rollers and vibrators that had been tormenting Lucille and Abigail. Both princesses lay wheezing from their ordeal, but managed to struggle into looking up at their mother and Alexander. Alexander removed their gags then walked around behind Evelyne’s chair and grabbed the back with both hands.
“Now, my fair queen. What were you saying you needed me to do?” It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over Evelyne’s head. She needed to cum. Desperately. But to beg for it in front of her daughters from the man who was responsible for all the suffering they were experiencing?
“Uh… Um… I-I-I… I n-need…” She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Alexander shrugged. Evelyne couldn’t see him, but the sadistic king was nearly doubled over with the effort not to laugh.
“Well, I guess you didn’t need it after all. Sorry, ladies. My mistake. Back as you were.” Alexander began walking around the room. Lucille and Abigail broke out scream in terror seeing him approach.
“No. No! NO! Please, no more! I can’t take it! Please, anyone but me. Tickle anyone but me! I’m going to die! Please! Pleheheahahase! Nohoho! You’re kihilling meheheHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
“Mom! Save me mom. I can’t take it! This is TORTURE! Oh Lord, no! Stop! Stohohop! Gehet thehEM OFFHEHEHAHAH! MOHOHOM SAHAVE MEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Stop! Stop it! I’ll do it! You fucking BASTARD! Leave them alone!” Evelyne screamed. Watching her daughters be tortured again was tearing her heart to shreds. Now that they were ungagged, their screams and pleas for mercy were hitting her like a hammer. Alexander simply upended her chair so she was lying on her back again and turned the vibrator pressed against her crotch back on.
“Permission denied,” he flatly said. “You were given your opportunity, you decided against it. How else am I supposed to interpret that other than you wanted to have everyone tickled some more?” Evelyne wasn’t given another chance to protest. She was too busy screaming from Alexander’s fingers rubbing against a bad spot at the base of her toes.
The screams of the three Dupont women were reverberating off the walls. Alexander closed his eyes and listened with appreciation, all while continuing to savage Evelyne’s helpless soles. It was more beautiful than any symphony. Their howls of laughter mixed with their screams, which were in turn punctuated by their increasingly desperate pleas for mercy. He could truly not think of a better sound.
What was most interesting to him was listening to how all three women were begging now. Evelyne had initially gone back to screaming at him to let her daughters go. Lucille and Abigail, on the other hand, weren’t exactly pleading with him anymore. They were crying out for their mother. Their pleading for the queen to save them and begging for her to give Alexander anything he wanted were mixing in with their howls of laughter more than begging to be freed from the tickling itself.
A grin played across Alexander’s lips. He could only imagine how much stress Queen Dupont must be under hearing her own daughters beg her to debase herself in the name of saving them from further torture. It hadn’t been what he had been aiming for, but this is what he loved about playing with multiple women at once: They never ceased to surprise him with how they reacted to each other after enough tickling. The good queen certainly wasn’t immune to the pressure she was under. Alexander couldn’t tell if she began begging him more because of her daughters’ plight or thanks to the constant edging, but her screams for him to let them go eventually began to transform into begging him to allow her to orgasm. As the minutes of edging and tickling went on her eyes began to take the crazed look of a woman too desperately in need of release to think straight.
When Alexander next lifted Evelyne’s chair up and switched off the vibrator over half an hour later, the good queen was completely out of her mind with desire. The sadistic young man didn’t take the time to turn off the machines tormenting the two princesses though. He wanted Queen Evelyne to have to listen to them continue to laugh.
“Now Queen Dupont, wasn’t there something you needed to ask of me?”
“Oh fuck. Please, fuck me! I need to cum so badly. Please! Turn the vibrator back on, use your hands, fuck me, anything. Just let me cum. I can’t take it anymore!”
“Since you’re so insistent, of course, my fair lady.” Alexander did as Evelyne asked and turned on the vibrator.
The waves of pleasure that washed over Evelyne were better than anything she could remember. The orgasm surging through her body, causing her eyes to flutter and toes to rapidly curl, was powerful enough that she couldn’t hear the laughter of her daughters anymore. Evelyne lay exulting in the pure bliss that came over her. It was made all the better by having just come out of what had easily been the worst suffering she’d ever experienced in her life.
Shame began to take over after coming down from the high of the orgasm. Seeing Alexander looking down at her with a glowing smile while her two beloved children continued to howl with laughter was too much for her to stand. Evelyn was brought crashing back down to reality. The realization that she’d just begged her tormentor for sexual pleasure, while her daughters continued to be tortured right in front of her no less, was too much for her mind to handle. Overwhelming shame was crushing her. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes
Alexander grinned down at the look of despair that had overcome Queen Dupont’s face. He loved that sort of expression in a woman. It told him that his efforts with tickling them hadn’t been in vain.
The sadistic king turned off the machines tormenting Lucille and Abigail. In between their mother’s look of despair and the sobs, sniffles, and tears of the two daughters, he felt like he’d made good enough progress for his first day with them. Alexander got dressed in his armor again before untying his captives. All three continued to lie or sit, recovering from the extended torture they’d just been forced to endure.
“Alright my future wives, I believe that’s enough for today,” he called out. He clasped his hands in front of him with a loud clap. “Unless, of course, you all feel like you’d like to go another round.” That got them all moving. The three women scrambled to stand in front of them as best their aching bodies would allow them. All of them stood before him meekly avoiding making eye contact and shivering with fear. Alexander gave them all a beaming smile. “Wonderful! I believe that in lieu of that, it’s time for us all to get married then.”
—--
“Do you, King Alexander Thibault, take these women as your lawfully wedded wives?”
“I do.” Alexander beamed at the elderly priest.
“Do you, Lady Evelyne Dupont, Lady Lucille Dupont, and Lady Abigail Dupont, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Ahem,” Alexander conspicuously cleared his throat. “I believe you mean ‘Queen Evelyne Dupont’, ‘Princess Lucille Dupont’, and ‘Princess Abigail Dupont’, your Reverence. Let us not be discourteous here.” The priest shook his head with a smile under Alexander’s gentle chiding.
“You’re correct, your lordship. Allow me to mend the question. Do you, Queen Evelyne Dupont, Princess Lucille Dupont, and Princess Abigail Dupont, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The three Dupont women shivered uncomfortably. All of the eyes in the hall were on them.
As a final little game, Alexander had provided them with slave outfits instead of wedding dresses for the occasion. The thin underwear was barely enough to cover their nipples and womanhoods while the skirts each had a long slit up the side to leave one of their legs bare. Alexander had a fondness for these outfits. He knew he truly had a woman under his control if he could get them to wear something this degrading in front of an audience like this.
“I… I…” Lucille had been forced up to the front of the group. Evelyne still had the faraway look of a person being crushed with despair and Abigail was still sniffling too much to speak coherently. The princess looked pleading at Alexander, who simply gave her a warm smile. Lucille looked down at her feet, cowed. “I… I-I do,” she stammered out in a meek voice.
Alexander reached over, took Lucille’s hand, drew her towards him in an embrace, and gave her a long, passionate kiss. It was a good kiss. More than good. It made the young princess go weak at the knees to the point that only Alexander’s gentle embrace kept her standing. In any other situation she would’ve been over the moon, but now she just wanted to cry.
Once they were done, Alexander released Lucille and gently took Abigail’s hand to lead her forward. Lucille could only watch with despair as the process was repeated with her sister, then with her mother. All three women were brought to the front to say their pledges, receive a passionate kiss, and not one could bring themselves to watch it happen.
A cheer erupted from the throats of the gathered soldiers filling the hall after Alexander kissed Evelyne. Lucille shrunk into herself. The 20-year-old princess had never had a more miserable day in her life. She didn’t want to marry this madman, but the fear of being tickled again was too great. The very thought of disobeying him made her tremble with trepidation just imagining the ticklish punishment that surely awaited her in response.
The Dupont women allowed themselves to be escorted through the castle. A wide set of double doors near the top of the keep were thrown open. Never before had the royal couple’s chambers looked so intimidating to the three women. Soldiers led them over to the wide bed in the center where they were bound lengthwise across the mattress lying side by side.
Once the soldiers had marched out of the room to leave the newlyweds alone, Alexander began to remove his armor again. Lucille’s face went crimson. She’d been too distracted by the tickling to notice before, but having such a handsome young man bare his body to her was a little too stimulating for her. And to be led to a bedroom with a man she had just been forced to marry could only mean one thing. Lucille began to tremble with fear.
“Don’t look so scared. I plan to do nothing to sully a beautiful flower such as yourself.” Alexander chuckled. “After all, is the act of making love not all the more enjoyable when both man and woman are conjoined in tender embrace of their own free will? To force myself upon you all without your consent would be nothing short of sacrilege! I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure you enjoy yourself tonight.” Lucille felt like Alexander was the last one who had any right to say that after everything he’d put her family through, especially when he was reaching across the bed to pull at the strings keeping their slave outfits on. A few tugs at the knots on either side of their hips and a couple more at the one in between the cups of their bras cause the skimpy outfits to unravel. A swift tug once the knots were loose was all it took to leave all three women lying naked on the bed.
Alexander kneeled at the foot of the bed at Evelyne’s feet. He leaned in to plant a soft kiss in the middle of her bare sole, then leaned back to watch the foot feebly wiggle under the stimulation. Lucille winced at the display. She couldn’t bring herself to watch as the king came back in to lick, kiss, and nibble all over her mother’s soles. Evelyne didn’t have any energy to resist. Giggles were freely pouring out of her mouth. The queen was squirming as much with discomfort from the unusual sensations as from the ticklish little jolts the foot worship left behind.
Her discomfort was further compounded hearing her two daughters break out giggling. Alexander’s hands weren’t content to rest. Their cruel new husband was taking advantage of how closely tied together the three women were to lightly tickle the princess’ bare feet. Broke and exhausted as they were, neither girl could stifle their giggles over the light teasing.
“Don’t worry, my dears. You won’t be alone in my company for long. I’m going to bring you plenty of wives and concubines to spend time with. If my professors are to be trusted, and I assure you that none of them are liars, there should be 10 other kingdoms on the continent. From what the nobles have said, each has a royal family with beautiful women of marriageable age all their own.” Alexander’s attempts to console them only filled Lucille with dread. “And I fully intend on finding out if they’re just as ticklish as well.”
“Now, I believe we all have to consummate our marriage together, but I feel you all look too unhappy for this joyous occasion. How about I help put a smile back on all of your faces?” The words were spoken with a kind tone, but to the bound Dupont women nothing could’ve come across as more threatening. All three began to scream with fear, their bodies thrashing against the ropes binding them with what little strength they had, but none were able to prevent the wiggling fingers from coming closer to their feet. Alexander turned out to be quite the energetic young man. Lucille, Abigail, and Evelyne were about to learn that he was capable of keeping his fingers moving well into the next morning.
—-
“Good morning, my dear. I do hope last night lived up to your expectations.”
Lucille squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could against the morning greeting. Her breath was ragged. Her entire body ached. Even lightly tugging at the ropes around her wrists and ankles was too much for her tired limbs to attempt without complaining. Parts of her she hadn’t known existed were sore. The 20-year-old blonde princess lay on the large bed in a sizable damp spot of her own sweat. The absolute last thing she wanted right now was to hear the utter psychopath responsible for all of her misfortune greeting her in the morning like they were a loving married couple.
Doubly so because last night had been nothing short of a showcase in pure agony. Alexander hadn’t granted her more than a few minutes of rest in between long hours of tickling and sexual torture, and those moments she heavily suspected were solely to keep her from escaping his fingers by passing out. Lucille felt like she was never going to enjoy being brought to orgasm again for the rest of her life. Alexander had cruelly toyed with her and her family members’ sexes all night long, using his hands and beloved vibrators to alternate between edging, denying, and forcing them to orgasm on a moment’s whim. The torture had left Lucille heavily traumatized. By the end she couldn’t even catch sight of the vibrator or Alexander’s hands approaching her groin without having a full blown panic attack.
The worst part had been when Evelyne and Abigail had both been graced with the good fortune to faint from exhaustion. Lucille had been left alone to bear the full brunt of Alexander’s unending cruelty for the final couple hours of the night. She greatly resented seeing her mother and sister sleeping soundly next to her while her own torment had only ended a few minutes ago. Alexander had only stopped tickling and headed off to the bathroom after the first rays of sunshine had made their way to rest on Lucille’s bare skin. He hadn’t even bothered to untie her first before leaving.
“Up and at ‘em, lazy bones! You need to get dressed. We’ve got a full day ahead of us. The country needs to hear about our wedding! Parades! Festivals! There’s plenty of celebrating to be done to spread the word.” Alexander untied the ropes around Lucille’s hands. She did her best to ignore her body’s protests and rolled out of bed. The slave outfit she’d been forced to wear yesterday had apparently been cleaned at some point in the night. The skimpy underwear and leg baring skirt combo was freshly laid out on a nearby chair. The young prin-... newly wed queen put it on without thinking.
Lucille shivered with realization. ‘By the lord, I didn’t even think about it. I just dressed like a slave for him without a single thought,’ she glumly thought to herself. The idea of objecting hadn’t even occurred to her. The trauma of the tickling and sexual torture Alexander had put her through was so deeply ingrained in her that she struggled to even consider doing anything that might earn her the wrath of his skilled fingers again.
Lucille sent a small prayer up to the heavens as she allowed Alexander to lead her out the doors of their bedchambers. Despair had made her give in. She couldn’t imagine being able to escape the tyranny of her new husband, but a small part of her hoped against all odds that at least the other royal families could be spared from sharing her plight.
Bloody hell, is this seriously the first time I've done an M/F story? I've done MF/F before, but I think this is legitimately the first time I've had the tickler(s) be male only.
----------
Lucille Dupont had come to a conclusion. Hearing the towering front doors of the castle shake after each blow of the invaders’ siege weapons had been bad, but it had been far preferable to the silence afterwards. A thundering crash had echoed throughout the castle signifying that the thick wooden doors had shattered followed by the brief sounds of fighting from the invaders meeting the last of the castle guard. The ensuing silence that began a few minutes later made her sick to her stomach. She’d seen just how large the enemy army was from her bedroom window before the maids had come to lead her into the safety of the cellars. It could only mean one thing for the sounds of fighting to die down so quickly.
They’d lost. Castle Candalholme had fallen. Lucille’s hands tightened into fists out of frustration. They hadn’t even lasted a day. The entirety of Shuvell Kingdom had been overrun in less than a month. Okay, they admittedly were among the smallest of the 12 kingdoms and you could cross the length of their borders in half a week on a decent horse, but to fall so quickly was pathetic. Lucille felt like she could’ve done something to help prevent this. She was 20-years-old now. Most of the knights that had been out fighting on the frontline were younger than her. But instead of doing anything to prevent her kingdom from falling, she’d been kept out of the way in her room and was now hiding in a cellar with her mother and sister as the invaders quite literally broke down their front door.
A quick glance around the cellar told Lucille that she wasn’t the only one frustrated by the situation. Her sister Abigail, the younger of the pair at 18, was gripping the arms of the chair she sat in with enough force for her knuckles to go white. That usually emotive, tomboyish princess was now sporting a stony expression of barely contained anger burning behind her sky blue eyes. Abigail clearly hadn’t been expecting the opposing army to reach Candalholme today anymore than Lucille. The maids had dressed her in an ornately embroidered navy blue dress with big puffy sleeves and a skirt that touched the ground more suitable for standing around in court than fleeing enemy soldiers.
Not that Lucille had much room to comment on that front. Abigail at least had her flowing golden locks cut to a little above shoulder length. It helped keep it out of the way when she was out joining all the men on one of their hunts, from what Lucille understood. Lucille was wearing an equally cumbersome forest green dress in the same style as Abigail’s, the maids had said something about “matching outfits” when dressing her, and she’d allowed her hair to grow out past her shoulder blades. The wisdom of her sister’s hairstyle was growing more apparent on reflection. The idea of getting her hair tangled in on some vegetation if they had to flee through the surrounding forests made the princess wince a little.
Their mother, Queen Evelyne Dupont, had a more worried expression. She was a homely 37-year-old woman, towering at 5’9” compared to Lucill’s 5’0” and Abigails 5’3”, and the two princesses had clearly inherited their blonde hair and blue eyes from her. Unlike her daughters, who let their hair hang freely, Evelyne had chosen to wind hers up into a tight bun on the back of her head. The rest was more of a mixed bag. Lucille had gotten their father’s slighter frame and sharper face while Abigail had gotten the face, but had been blessed with their mother’s D-cup bosom and wide hips. The queen was kneeling at a nearby table with her hands grasped in prayer. It didn’t take a genius to guess who she was praying for. Her husband and their father, King Frederick Dupont, had gone up to join the defenders after seeing to his family’s safety. Lucille knew it was no good to be a cynic, but she couldn’t help but feel that the fact that the fighting was already over didn’t bode well for their father’s fate.
A loud noise from the doorway made all three Dupont women jump with fright. Something was slamming against the heavy wooden door. The three women backed away into the furthest corner from the door, Queen Evelyne standing protectively in front of her two daughters. They watched with trepidation as whatever it was slammed into the doorway again and again, cracks spidering their way across the sturdy wood with each blow, until it couldn’t handle the strain anymore. The door flew over to slam against the wall with a deafening crash. Soldiers in blood red livery with a stylized phoenix emblazoned on their armor streamed into the room. One carried a handheld battering ram while the rest held their spears pointed at the cornered Duponts.
Finally, a young man entered the room. It was difficult to distinguish him among the soldiers at first thanks to his matching armor, but it became clear that he was no commoner when he removed his helmet. He had a handsome, clean shaven face noticeably lacking the weathered appearance the surrounding soldiers sported. Lucille felt it was best not to underestimate him though. The man’s armor was just as covered with blood as the other soldiers.
The man put on a friendly smile completely at odds with the situation and took a deep bow. “Greetings, fair maidens. My name is Alexander Thibault, the current reigning king of Esigriba. Would you happen to be the good ladies ruling over this estate?”
“No, we’re scullery maids. People of no import.” Lucille had never heard a more bald-faced lie come out of her mother’s mouth. Alexander’s mouth twitched with amusement hearing it as well.
“Shame. I suppose I should’ve asked the women in grubby smocks above first. As the conquering lord, I was hoping to consolidate my victory by taking the royal ladies as my brides.” The Duponts bristled at the casualness with which Alexander proclaimed his intentions. ‘Consolidate his victory’? Like they were nothing more than prizes for him to take?
“By what right do you have to do this?” Abigail suddenly spoke up. Lucille hurriedly tried to hush her sister, but it was a lost cause. There wasn’t much anyone could do to stop Abby after she got an idea into her head. “Why did you attack us? What gives you the right to march into our home and force yourself upon us?”
Alexander opened his mouth briefly to answer, then shut it. His friendly smile had taken an uncertain waver to it. He glanced over to the soldier standing at attention right behind him.
“Captain, do you happen to have this ‘right’ on your person?” The soldier made a show of looking around before pointing a finger at the spear gripped in his hand.
“I’ve got a spear, Milord,” he offered.
“Captain, that isn’t a right.”
“It isn’t, Milord?”
“No. A right is something that gives you authorization to do something. A spear is a length of wood with a sharp bit at the end.”
“Well, we got a whole lot of ‘em, Milord. Is a bunch of spears called a right?” Alexander and the captain briefly stared at each other, then the young king turned back to the Duponts with a smile.
“Well, there you have it, ladies. We’re here by the right of ‘We’ve got a whole bunch of lengths of wood with sharp bits at the end’. It seemed to be a perfectly sound argument for the fine men upstairs at least.” Queen Evelyne sneered at him.
“I take it you think you’re funny,” she snapped.
“Hilarious. My old jester would be proud. He taught me everything I know about the art of joculating and tomfoolery.” Alexander shot Evelyne his most charming smile yet. “I’ve always been fond of laughter. Women especially. The court jester was one of my best teachers in that regard.”
“Well take your ‘right’ and do what you will with us, but you’ll never get us to consent to marriage,” Lucille interjected.
“We’ll die before we marry the likes of you!” Abigail shouted, bolstered by her sister’s words. The soldiers all took a threatening step forwards. Alexander raised his hand to stop them.
“There’ll be no need for that, gentlemen. I’m certain these ladies will see the folly of their decision with a little persuasion.” His raised hand transitioned to pointing at the cornered Duponts. “Restrain them,” he ordered.
The soldiers surged forward to drag the Dupont women out of their corner. No matter how the three ladies struggled or protested, they couldn’t hope to resist the large men grabbing them by the arms and dragging them into the center of the room. Some of the soldiers had lengths of ropes stored away in their packs that were used to bind them to available pieces of furniture. Queen Evelyne was tied sitting to a chair while Abigail was forcibly stretched out over the room’s table. Her legs had to be pushed open in a decidedly unladylike way in order for her ankles to be bound to the table’s legs with her feet facing the floor. Another chair had to be retrieved from upstairs to restrain Lucille, who was left with her arms tied to the armrests and her ankles bound to a footrest in front of her.
What Lucille found most disquieting was that the soldiers seemed to be making a point of taking off all of their shoes while they were being bound to leave them barefoot. Lucille had a bit of a complex about leaving her feet bare. Ever since Abigail had learned just how extraordinarily ticklish Lucille’s feet were, she would exploit it to bully her older sister into keeping quiet about her unsupervised forays out into the woods. It wasn’t uncommon in Castle Candalholme to hear Lucille’s laughter ringing throughout the halls from Abigail putting her ankles in a headlock and scrabbling her nails all over her baby soft soles until the older princess agreed to whatever the younger wanted.
Alexander seemed to notice Lucille’s discomfort. The princess’ heart leapt into her throat seeing the strapping young man come strolling in her direction. She nearly screamed when he stepped around to her side and extended his hands towards her sides. Her body automatically tried to jerk away. Alexander’s hands froze seeing her reaction. She didn’t like the mischievous glint that came to his eye.
“Oh, you know what’s coming next? Good.” Alexander’s hands lunged forward to squeeze her sides in between his fingertips. Lucille arched her back with a strangled shriek feeling the fingers dig into the sensitive flesh. “I like a little fear in a girl.”
“W-what are you doing?” Abigail cried in shock.
“Get away from her! Stop this instant!” Evelyne yelled at the same time.
Alexander ignored both of them in favor of continuing to squeeze Lucille’s sides. Lucille desperately wanted to tell him to stop, but she couldn’t afford to. Screwing her mouth shut was all she could do to keep the giggles produced by each squeeze contained. Her dress was barely any protection in the face of his strong fingers. Alexander would sink his fingers in to squeeze her sides before moving to another random spot on her flanks for another go. Lucille’s body jerked and spasmed with each squeeze while her face screwed up with concentration in an effort to keep from laughing.
“Sides seem sensitive. Let’s try the ribs next,” Alexander mused aloud. Lucille really wished he hadn’t. The threat that he was going to go up to her ribs next caused her eyes to open wide with fear. “That’s a nice reaction. I take it your ribs are nice and ticklish, madam?” Alexander taunted. The side squeezing transitioned to digging his fingertips in between her ribs. “Yep, this is a good spot, alright.
Lucille nearly bucked hard enough to upend the chair when Alexander made his way to her rib cage. Abigail had tickled her in the ribs before and while it hadn’t been nearly as bad as when her sister had assaulted her feet, it was still the second most ticklish part of her body. Her face was going red from the strain of not laughing. It was only her stubborn refusal to give the man who had attacked their castle the pleasure of making her laugh that allowed her to keep it in.
“Stop! Stop tickling her there!” Abigail was yelling.
“Let her go, you bastard!” Alexander let out a small sigh. Evelyne and Abigail hadn’t stopped yelling at him this entire time, and it was looking to Lucille like he was starting to get a little disgruntled by it. He stopped tickling briefly to turn and address the soldiers still in the room.
“Gentlemen, could you please do something to keep these fair ladies quiet? Something to occupy their mouths should do.” Several of the soldiers nodded in acknowledgement. The armored men marched smartly across the room to the two yelling Duponts. The two women’s protests went ignored as they pulled out knives and began cutting away at the hems of their dresses. The fabric was cut into long strips that were tied into knots and shoved into Evelyne and Abigail’s mouths, rendering further attempts at shouting unintelligible.
“Ah, blessed silence. As my father used to say, silence is golden.” Alexander gave Lucille a conspiratorial wink.”Wouldn’t you say, Ms. Dupont? Now, where were we? I believe you were about to show me how beautiful your laugh was.”
Lucille was so caught up watching her mother and sister be gagged that she’d stopped paying attention to Alexander. She didn’t notice that the man had made his way around to crouch at her feet until she felt his calloused fingers prod her soles. Lucille nearly jumped out of her skin. It was like lightning had coursed up her leg. A burst of laughter nearly made its way past her lips before she could hold it back.
“I’m guessing by your reaction that you have sensitive feet. It must be fate that we met today, Ms. Dupont. The only thing second to me to a woman’s laugh is for her to have nice feet, and you seem to have both in abundance. One seems to lead to the other, really.”
The bound princess was really starting to hate the conversational tone Alexander kept up when he was clearly doing all this to make her suffer. He could at least match up his words to the way his fingers were viciously poking and prodding all over her creamy white soles. Holding back her laughter was starting to get painful. Each ticklish touch threatened to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Her legs attempted to kick each time the fingers came back, but she couldn’t escape. Alexander had his boot firmly planted on the footrest next to her legs and her ankles were too firmly tied to it for her to move. The best she could do was wiggle her feet as fast as possible.
“StohohoHOP! By the lohord stoHOHOP THAHATHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!” Eventually, it proved too much for Lucille to handle anymore. A gasp managed to escape when Alexander’s fingers had made contact with her long toes. Once that was out it was impossible to stop her body from letting the rest of the laughter follow. Lucille threw her head back. Peals of laughter freely flowed through her mouth.
Lucille had grown up convinced that Abigail’s tickling had been bad. She’d dreaded the thought of her sister getting it in her head that the best option for getting her way was to grab her by the ankles again. It had always tickled so badly that she had never even conceptualized that a more skilled tickler could make it even worse. Alexander clearly had skill to spare when it came to abusing a helpless woman’s flesh. He struck with pinpoint precision to target hot spots he’d found across her feet for maximum effect. Feeling his calloused digits digging into that spot at the base of her toes or rubbing a vulnerable stretch on her instep tickled far worse than Abigail’s wildly flailing fingers ever had. Abigail’s nails had been bad. This was agony. Alexander tormented her soles with such precision and unpredictability that the only thing the bound girl could do was inelegantly blabber pleas of mercy in between the endless streams of laughter being wrung out of her lungs.
“I have to say, Captain, I’m always impressed with how efficiently you carry out orders. I wasn’t expecting you to get back for another hour at the least. Do be a friend and bring it all over here, would you?” The soldiers Alexander had sent off on an errand returned nearly 15 minutes later. They filed in through the door carrying large boxes between them. The young man turned around to praise them without letting his ticklish assault on Lucille’s feet slow down. At this point, the princess was throwing her head back and cackling with forced mirth. Tears of agony were beginning to drip in the corners of her eyes.
“I figured you’d been having a long day, Milord. I had the coachman drive your cart up to the front steps after we secured the area. Thought a bit of fun to end the day on a high note would do you some good.”
“Good man! You are a true friend, sir.” Alexander beamed with delight at the captain’s foresight. Abigail and Evelyne, already quite disturbed over having watched Lucille being tickle tortured, were shaken by the sheer casualness of the conversation between the two while Lucille continued to shriek with agony right beside them. The captain was pulling some sort of contraption out of one of the boxes they’d brought down. It appeared to be some sort of metal box with a pair of rollers extending off the ends of long metal arms. Neither woman had any doubt what the device was supposed to do thanks to the myriad feathers sticking out of each roller.
While the captain was getting the device setup. Alexander stepped up his ticklish attack on Lucille’s vulnerable soles. The calloused tips of his fingers immediately darted back around to gently scratch at the lengths of each long digit. That was the final straw for poor Lucille. Hysterical screams of laughter echoed throughout the cellar. The bound princess’ entire body shook with the effort of producing laughter loud enough to relay how much she was suffering at the moment.
She finally got a break several minutes later after the captain finished setting up the strange machine. Lucille was left wheezing, her meager chest heaving as she took in lungfuls of air for the first time in nearly 20 minutes. She looked down with bleary eyes and felt her heart nearly stop. Alexander and the captain had arranged the device at her feet so that the rollers were right in front of her much abused soles. Some of the feathers were already pressed up against her feet.
“This little thing is truly a marvel. Some wizard back in my kingdom managed to trap lightning in a box!” Alexander giggled at the absurdity of his own explanation. “He had one of the artificers make it so that all I have to do is pull a little lever inside and the boxed lightning will make the rollers spin. Once that starts, well, I’m certain a smart girl like you can figure out what’ll happen.”
“Oh lord, no. Please. No more. I surrender. I can’t take it! I’ll marry you! Please!” Lucille blubbered with terror. Had the tickling thus far not been enough for this madman? Why did he have to make her suffer even more? The princess didn’t manage to force the questions through her fear before Alexander fiddled with something inside the box. The machine bounced, sputtered, and began to produce a strange humming noise. Then, true to her sadistic tormentor’s words, the rollers began to rotate.
Lucille was quickly reduced to hysterics again. She was too broken down and exhausted to resist anymore. The rollers were bringing a bevy of different feathers to stroke her feet from the tips of her toes to her heels in long sweeps. There was an astounding variety to the sensations coursing up her legs. Long, stiff eagle feathers were making contact with her feet at the same time as fuzzy down and everything in between. Every section of the helpless girl’s feet was sending a different ticklish signal all at the same time. Lucille was left leaning back in her chair, head whipping every which way with her lungs working overtime to force screams of laughter to reverberate off the walls. The captain had to produce some little wooden braces from a different box and nail the legs of both Lucille’s chair and her footrest to the floor to keep her struggles from tipping her over. As a final touch to her torment, the captain cut a long strip off the edge of her dress and formed it into another gag. Lucille’s screams of laughter were muffled after the two men secured the knot of the gag in her mouth.
Alexander and the captain stepped back to admire their work for a bit. After a bit, the young man turned to the soldier.
“Thanks for all of your help. Now, not that I don’t enjoy your company, but could you please give us all some privacy? I think the girls and I should all get a little more comfortable.” The captain snapped off a parade-worthy salute and turned to exit the room. The rest of Alexander’s entourage took the hint and started to file out of the room, leaving the conquering king alone with the three bound Duponts. Alexander shouted one last thing after them. “Gentlemen! Feel free to help yourself to any ale you find. Don’t hold back on my account. I believe I’ll be busy for a while yet.” A collective cheer from the departing soldiers made its way down the stairwell before Alexander closed the broken door as best he could. HIs spear had to be repurposed as a makeshift bar in order to hold it closed.
Abigail screamed into her gag. The moment they were alone in the room, Alexander pulled a knife out of his belt and began to approach her. ‘Is he seriously going to kill me now?’ she fearfully thought. The tomboy princess squeezed her eyes shut and braced for the sensation of the knife piercing her flesh. Instead, all she felt was her dress being tugged followed by a tearing sound. There was suddenly a draft across her upper body. Abigail cracked an eye open and screamed again, this time out of mortification. Alexander had made rather efficient use of his knife to cut her dress off as quickly as possible. A few more swipes were all it took to tear apart her underwear and leave the bound princess lying naked on the table.
Alexander repeated the process on Queen Evelyne and Lucille, though with Lucille he had some difficulty thanks to how much she was struggling. Abigail continued to attempt to hurl abuse at him through her gag through it all only to be struck dumb when Alexander began to remove his armor. A blush came over the young princess’ face watching the man disrobe. She didn’t know where to look. Alexander was on a completely different level of handsome compared to the men she was used to at court. Everywhere from his calves to his six pack to his broad shoulder had the cut muscle definition of a man who hadn’t neglected to train his entire body. His skin had a faint sheen of sweat that helped accentuate his features with a glisten she found downright erotic.
But what really caught her attention was his penis standing erect at attention. Abigail’s blush deepend. On one hand, as a princess she’d been taught that it was improper to take an interest in that part of the opposite sex. On the other, she was an 18-year-old girl with an active libido and no experience past the head maid’s lectures on what it took to bear children. They hadn’t even had pictures. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his manhood at the same time she was embarrassed to look at it.
“Sorry about that,” Alexander apologized with a sheepish smile. “That armor is really quite heavy. I swear, I sweat like a pig if I keep it on for more than a couple hours. Not that you seem to mind, from the looks of it.” The wink he shot her made Abigail’s heart flutter. If he’d been one of the young nobles at court instead of an insane sadist who’d spent his entire time here torturing her sister, his unending charm would’ve tempted her into give courting him a try.
As it was, Abigail squirmed away as best her bondage would let her when the naked young man began to approach her. She did her best to conceal her terror with a glare, but the bound girl wasn’t quite good enough at concealing her emotions to pull it off. Alexander chuckled at her obvious fear, kneeled down at the foot of the table, and began to trace the pads of her fingers from the back of her heels up to her toes.
While Lucille often complained about how often Abigail tickled her feet, Abigail knew for a fact that her sister knew her own feet were no less sensitive. Her games at tickling Lucille’s tender soles had rarely gone without retaliation. If anything, her older sister was actually the more sadistic of the two. Abigail suspected that Lucille was playing the victim when she left out the parts about how she would tie her younger sister’s ankles together with a length of rope and let both of her ticklish soles feel the wrath of all 10 fingers for minutes at a time. Abigail was fully aware of what it was like to be helplessly bound at the mercy of a sadistic tickler intent on making her suffer. The fear that Alexander would turn to her next had wound her up tighter than a spring ever since he had begun to torment Lucille.
All of that anticipation burst out the moment his fingers made contact in the form of squeals of laughter. Alexander chuckled with delight. He took a great deal of pleasure out of watching how Abigail’s large breasts would quiver and shake as her body danced at his fingers’ command. After a couple minutes of persistent foot tickling her giggles had upgraded to a steady stream of laughter. Alexander stopped briefly to undo her gag. In his opinion, a woman’s laugh was best heard unrestrained, especially when it had that panicked, anguished tone that came from the laughter being brought about by sensitive skin being abused.
“You bastard! Stop tickling me. I bet you wouldn’t be so eager to touch me if I was untied!” Abigail immediately began shouting the moment her gag came free. Alexander tutted at her with a look of amusement.
“Such unladylike language! Have your parents not taught you how a woman should talk to a man?” Alexander made his way back to kneel at the foot of the table again. Abigail could barely see the top of his head if she craned her neck. “I suppose, as your future husband, I’ll have to instill some discipline in you myself.”
Abigail realized to her horror that the tickling she’d suffered thus far had only been light teasing. Alexander was really digging in to punish her now. His calloused fingertips were viciously scrabbling against her heels, rubbing against the balls of her feet, and poking all over her heels. Abigail arched her back and let out a high pitched scream of laughter before descending into a steady stream of laughter. Her body twisted this way and that in an attempt to escape. It was hopeless. Nothing she did prevented Alexander from tunneling in on every spot that tickled badly enough to extract another shriek of laughter out of her.
“StohoHOP! BahastardHEHEHEHAHA! Stohop it yohohou FUHUHCKER! Lehet MEhe gohoHOEHEHAHAHAHA!” Abigail cursed and screamed in between demands that she be released as Alexander abused her soles. While Alexander took amusement out of her defiance at first, he began to tire of it as time went on. After roughly 10 minutes, he stopped tickling and walked over to one of the boxes his soldier had brought in. His position at the bottom of the table had given him a clear view of how wet Abigail’s groin was becoming from the stimulation and that was giving him an idea. Abigail wheezed in as much air as she could from the unexpected break.
“I’m beginning to suspect you haven’t really internalized what sort of situation you’re in yet, Ms. Dupont.” Alexander sighed. He’d fished out a thick metal stick with a bulbous ball of leather on the end. Flicking a switch on the metal portion caused it to produce a soft humming sound.
“W-what’s that?” Abigail asked, voice trembling.
“Another little invention the artificer made for me. He built a device that vibrates when hooked up to the boxed lightning. He made it in the name of helping quell women’s histrionics, but I find that it’s better used in more… persuasive applications.” Alexander pressed the crude vibrator against the moistened folds of Abigail’s womanhood. The bound princess let out a gasp. Her hips bucked involuntarily. An unfamiliar sensation shot through her groin. “I couldn’t help but notice how wet you were down here ever since I disrobed you. Were you perhaps a little more aroused to see me naked than a proper lady should be?”
“Wha-what’s going on?” she gasped. The unfamiliar sensation was flooding her brain with pink mist. She involuntarily found herself moaning under the stimulation.
“Is this your first time being brought to orgasm, Ms. Dupont? I’m a lucky man, to be sure.” Abigail could feel something building inside of her. The pink mist was completely obscuring everything else now. But right as the building arousal was about to explode inside of her, Alexander suddenly switched off the vibrator, dropped it on the table, and dug his fingers into her exposed armpits.
Abigail screamed in agony. The foot abuse from earlier had tickled. What she was experiencing now tickled. Her building arousal had caused her body’s sensitivity to shoot through the roof to the point where her armpits, never terribly sensitive before, were now worse than her feet had been. The princess’ hips repeatedly arched into the air and slammed her butt back down hard enough to make the table shake as screams continued to pour out of her mouth. Alexander punished her increased sensitivity for several more minutes before grabbing the vibrator again.
“You see, Ms. Dupont, you aren’t in a position to make demands of me at the moment.” He switched the evil little device back on and nestled it into her crotch again. Abigail realized after it made contact that she wasn’t aroused anymore. The intense tickles had overwhelmed the pink haze to leave her all the way back at the start. Even so, she couldn’t prevent herself from moaning as the waves of pleasure began to spread through her again. “You don’t even have enough control over this situation to dictate whether you get to orgasm or not.”
“Don’t do that. Get that thing away from me!” Abigail cried, realizing the cruel game Alexander had in store for her.
Alexander proved to be almost disturbingly good at telling when Abigail was on the edge of an orgasm. He’d consistently switch off the vibrator seconds before it could bring her to climax and take the pleasure away by leaning down to rake his nails across her bound feet. Blood-curdling screams filled the cellar every time he did. The virginal, sheltered princess couldn’t have conceived of how horrible it would feel to alternate between being edged and tickled. After the second time he brought her to edge she begged for mercy like her life depended on it. For the third she could barely babble. After the fourth, fifth, and sixth, the only sounds coming out of her throat anymore were moans of desire and ear splitting screams of agony.
“Now, has our little lady understood what’s going on now?” Abigail looked at her tormentor’s almost kindly face through the tears welling in her eyes and sniffed.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she said in a small voice. Her sniffs turned into a hiccup. “Please. F-f-f-forgive me…” The tears began to leak down her face. Once they started, she couldn’t stop them anymore. Abigail began to wail with misery. Never in her life had she thought it was possible to be made to suffer this much.
“Good. Here’s a little present for being a good girl and apologizing.” Alexander switched on the vibrator again and pressed it against her clit. Abigail began to moan again. Her hips pressed up against the vibrator, hungry to finally achieve release. The pink mist was filling her head again.
“Just kidding.” At the very last second, Alexander switched off the vibrator again. A huge smile had spread across his face. He honestly looked to the bound princess like he was barely suppressing laughter at her expense. Abigail stared frozen with horror. She couldn’t believe the depths of cruelty this man had. Alexander walked back to the box he’d gotten the crude vibrator out of. A second was dug out along with a couple wooden stands. Both stands were placed right beneath Abigail’s feet and the vibrators were nestled in the holders on top. Abigail squirmed uncomfortably. The bulbs of each vibrator were nestled squarely against her arches.
Hysterical peals of laughter once again began to reverberate off the walls after Alexander switched both vibrators on. It was nothing compared to the skill of the man’s fingers, but Abigail was exhausted, horny out of her mind, and well past her limits to withstand further tickling. The vibrations shooting up her legs were more than enough to have her in hysterics within seconds. Alexander let a sense of accomplishment swell inside of him watching the tomboy princess’ naked body buck on the table. He liked tomboys. Their willpower appealed to him. It always felt like he’d managed to accomplish something when he tickled a strong willed woman into apologizing to him in tears like Abigail had.
Alexander walked back to the boxes to grab his third, and final, vibrator before strolling over to stand in front of Queen Evelyne. He liked the expression on her face. Her soft, rounded face was twisted with distress over having watched her two daughters be tortured right in front of her that was mixing with a solid helping of terror at the prospect that she was next.
“Hello, Queen Dupont. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Your two lovely daughters had me preoccupied,” Alexander said. He reached around to undo the gag’s knot and freed the length of cloth from her mouth.
“Please, let them go. I’ll marry you. I’ll do anything you want. Just please, for the love of the lord, stop this,” Evelyne begged the moment her mouth was free. Alexander shook his head with a said expression.
“I’m going to have to decline, my fair lady.” A flick of his finger turned on the vibrator in his hand. Evelyne buried her body as far back into her chair with fright, but couldn’t escape having the little torture device being pressed into her crotch. The queen grit her teeth to prevent from moaning under the influence of the surging pleasure. “You see, from my viewpoint, you’re agreeing to marry me in order to make the tickling stop. While it’s admirable for you to try to sacrifice yourself to save your daughters, the tickling is ultimately nothing more than a little game for me.”
Alexander’s free hand came up to grab a handful of one of Evelyne’s exposed breasts. He kneaded the giant mound of flesh and gently teased her stiffening nipples between his fingers. It was too much for Evelyen to handle. Groans of arousal made their way between her clenched teeth.
“You see, my father was a very wise man. He taught me that there was a difference between having a woman do as you ordered to make the tickling stop and having her obey because she’s submitted herself to you body, mind, and soul.” Alexander sported a fond smile at the memory. It looked to him like she was getting pretty close to an orgasm. He decided it was time for another little game. “Now, as a little exercise, I’m going to need you to ask me for permission to climax. It wouldn’t do to have my future wife cumming without my consent, after all.”
“I hope the rats eat you alive,” Evelyne snarled in defiance. The queen drew her head back briefly and lobbed a ball of spit straight at Alexander’s face. It landed squarely on his cheek. The young king wiped it off with the back of his hand.
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed,” he chided. With a surge of his muscles, the young man grabbed the chair Evelyne was sitting on and tipped it over. He gently guided it to the floor so she was lying on her back. With her feet bound to the legs of the chair, her feet were now wiggling in the air. “But I suppose this proves my point, so we can roll with it.” There was no teasing this time. Alexander went in straight for the kill. His fingers scrabbled all over Evelyne’s helpless soles.
It was a little known fact that Queen Evelyne had never let King Frederick touch her feet throughout the entire 20 years of their marriage. Not once had she allowed her husband to touch her feet out of fear that he would have the poor humor to give her a quick tickle. There was little she dreaded more than being tickled. The Queen knew all too well what it was like to be on the receiving end of her daughters’ little back and forth tickling war. Her siblings had put her through far worse growing up than either of her daughters ever got up to. It was a point of shame for her to have learned that both had inherited her sensitive soles, all the more so now that they were at the mercy of a sadist who was proving gleeful to exploit the fact.
Evelyne’s body spasmed with enough force every time the fingers made contact to make her chair bounce off the floor. A shriek worthy of a banshee ripped its way out of her throat. Even though she had watched Abigail be tortured in the exact same manner, she hadn’t been prepared for just how bad it would be to experience it herself. Alexander was in top form now. The way his fingertips traveled over her soles was completely unpredictable.
Alexander hummed to himself. There truly was no better music than a woman’s laughter and no better instrument to play it from than their feet. The sadistic king was truly grateful he’d decided to invade Shuvell Kingdom. He couldn’t remember ever having soles as ticklish as the Dupont family’s under his fingers. Alexander grinned down at Evelyne’s face. She was the best yet. He’d barely been tickling for 5 minutes and she was already screaming loud enough for the whole kingdom to hear. She couldn’t even beg. Every breath of air was being devoted purely to screaming her head off.
She was also looking about ready for another round with vibrator. Alexander grabbed his favorite torture implement fully intent on pressing it against her crotch when an idea struck him. Instead of bringing Evelyne up to the top and smashing her down again, he wanted to see what would happen if he left her suspended near the top instead. The sadistic king grabbed the tattered remains of the queen’s dress and tore it into strips. He nestled the vibrator up against the bound woman’s crotch and used a length of fabric to tie it to her thigh.
Evelyne was too grateful over receiving a break from the tickling to protest at first, but that all changed when Alexander flipped the switch on the vibrator again. Her body convulsed feeling the little device turn on again.
“Oh God, get it off! Stop this thing. Get it away from me!” she cried with horror. Alexander took a step back to admire his handiwork. No matter how the queen attempted to shake her leg, she couldn’t move enough to get the little sex toy away from her womanhood. Gravity pulled it down to press against her engorged pink folds while the fabric kept it in place through all her attempts to dislodge it.
“NohohohoHOHOHO! STOP! NO! PLEHEHEAHASE! HAHAVE MEHERCY! NOHO MOHOREHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!” Evelyne broke down screaming again. Alexander had returned to scratching his nails all over her feet. The queen was in a whole new depth of hell she hadn’t believed possible. Being brought up to the edge of an orgasm only to be dragged back down with tickling had easily been the worst thing she’d ever experienced, but this was managing to be even worse. The waves of pleasure from having her pussy stimulated were mixing with the tickling. They combined together in her mind to multiply off each other into something exponentially worse. The pleasure was bolstering up the tickling into being more horrible than ever before. The tickling was tearing away at the pleasure to prevent her from getting even the slightest bit of joy out of it.
Alexander was content to ease up on the tickling a little. He didn’t want to tickle her so hard that it kept her from getting aroused. What he was aiming for was to walk the tightrope of light enough that she could be brought closer to orgasm by the vibrator, but hard enough that she had no hope of cumming from it. Evelyne’s every last reaction was carefully monitored to see how she was doing. When she began to moan a little too much for Alexander’s liking he’d start tickling harder. If she screamed from touching a hot spot a little too intensely, he’d ease up a little to let her savor the stimulation for a little bit.
The result was Evelyne spending the following 20 minutes bobbing up and down on the edge of an orgasm. Her mind was being overwhelmed by the endless tickling combining with her building sexual frustration. At first she screamed and pleaded for the tickles to stop, but as the tickles continued her frustration started to take over. She needed to cum. More than her pride as a queen or her worry over the fate that awaited her and her daughters under this psychopath, she was facing the ever growing need to orgasm right now. Her pleas slowly died out in favor of gasps, moans, and cries of desire regardless of how hard he scrambled his nails across her feet as punishment.
When Alexander finally gave her a break, Evelyne’s head lolled off to the side. She had a far away look with her eyes clouded with desire. Alexander reached down and flipped the vibrator off.
“No!” Evelyne cried. Her hips bucked desperately in the hopes of eeking out the last bit of stimulation she needed out of the inert machine. “Turn it back on! Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK! I was so close. I was so close! Please!”
“Now now, didn’t I say you needed permission first?” Alexander reached down and grabbed the back of her chair to lift it back up into a sitting position. Evelyne was so distracted by her need to climax that she didn’t fully process the sadistic little smile he was giving her. The young man walked around the room and turned off the feather rollers and vibrators that had been tormenting Lucille and Abigail. Both princesses lay wheezing from their ordeal, but managed to struggle into looking up at their mother and Alexander. Alexander removed their gags then walked around behind Evelyne’s chair and grabbed the back with both hands.
“Now, my fair queen. What were you saying you needed me to do?” It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over Evelyne’s head. She needed to cum. Desperately. But to beg for it in front of her daughters from the man who was responsible for all the suffering they were experiencing?
“Uh… Um… I-I-I… I n-need…” She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Alexander shrugged. Evelyne couldn’t see him, but the sadistic king was nearly doubled over with the effort not to laugh.
“Well, I guess you didn’t need it after all. Sorry, ladies. My mistake. Back as you were.” Alexander began walking around the room. Lucille and Abigail broke out scream in terror seeing him approach.
“No. No! NO! Please, no more! I can’t take it! Please, anyone but me. Tickle anyone but me! I’m going to die! Please! Pleheheahahase! Nohoho! You’re kihilling meheheHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
“Mom! Save me mom. I can’t take it! This is TORTURE! Oh Lord, no! Stop! Stohohop! Gehet thehEM OFFHEHEHAHAH! MOHOHOM SAHAVE MEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Stop! Stop it! I’ll do it! You fucking BASTARD! Leave them alone!” Evelyne screamed. Watching her daughters be tortured again was tearing her heart to shreds. Now that they were ungagged, their screams and pleas for mercy were hitting her like a hammer. Alexander simply upended her chair so she was lying on her back again and turned the vibrator pressed against her crotch back on.
“Permission denied,” he flatly said. “You were given your opportunity, you decided against it. How else am I supposed to interpret that other than you wanted to have everyone tickled some more?” Evelyne wasn’t given another chance to protest. She was too busy screaming from Alexander’s fingers rubbing against a bad spot at the base of her toes.
The screams of the three Dupont women were reverberating off the walls. Alexander closed his eyes and listened with appreciation, all while continuing to savage Evelyne’s helpless soles. It was more beautiful than any symphony. Their howls of laughter mixed with their screams, which were in turn punctuated by their increasingly desperate pleas for mercy. He could truly not think of a better sound.
What was most interesting to him was listening to how all three women were begging now. Evelyne had initially gone back to screaming at him to let her daughters go. Lucille and Abigail, on the other hand, weren’t exactly pleading with him anymore. They were crying out for their mother. Their pleading for the queen to save them and begging for her to give Alexander anything he wanted were mixing in with their howls of laughter more than begging to be freed from the tickling itself.
A grin played across Alexander’s lips. He could only imagine how much stress Queen Dupont must be under hearing her own daughters beg her to debase herself in the name of saving them from further torture. It hadn’t been what he had been aiming for, but this is what he loved about playing with multiple women at once: They never ceased to surprise him with how they reacted to each other after enough tickling. The good queen certainly wasn’t immune to the pressure she was under. Alexander couldn’t tell if she began begging him more because of her daughters’ plight or thanks to the constant edging, but her screams for him to let them go eventually began to transform into begging him to allow her to orgasm. As the minutes of edging and tickling went on her eyes began to take the crazed look of a woman too desperately in need of release to think straight.
When Alexander next lifted Evelyne’s chair up and switched off the vibrator over half an hour later, the good queen was completely out of her mind with desire. The sadistic young man didn’t take the time to turn off the machines tormenting the two princesses though. He wanted Queen Evelyne to have to listen to them continue to laugh.
“Now Queen Dupont, wasn’t there something you needed to ask of me?”
“Oh fuck. Please, fuck me! I need to cum so badly. Please! Turn the vibrator back on, use your hands, fuck me, anything. Just let me cum. I can’t take it anymore!”
“Since you’re so insistent, of course, my fair lady.” Alexander did as Evelyne asked and turned on the vibrator.
The waves of pleasure that washed over Evelyne were better than anything she could remember. The orgasm surging through her body, causing her eyes to flutter and toes to rapidly curl, was powerful enough that she couldn’t hear the laughter of her daughters anymore. Evelyne lay exulting in the pure bliss that came over her. It was made all the better by having just come out of what had easily been the worst suffering she’d ever experienced in her life.
Shame began to take over after coming down from the high of the orgasm. Seeing Alexander looking down at her with a glowing smile while her two beloved children continued to howl with laughter was too much for her to stand. Evelyn was brought crashing back down to reality. The realization that she’d just begged her tormentor for sexual pleasure, while her daughters continued to be tortured right in front of her no less, was too much for her mind to handle. Overwhelming shame was crushing her. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes
Alexander grinned down at the look of despair that had overcome Queen Dupont’s face. He loved that sort of expression in a woman. It told him that his efforts with tickling them hadn’t been in vain.
The sadistic king turned off the machines tormenting Lucille and Abigail. In between their mother’s look of despair and the sobs, sniffles, and tears of the two daughters, he felt like he’d made good enough progress for his first day with them. Alexander got dressed in his armor again before untying his captives. All three continued to lie or sit, recovering from the extended torture they’d just been forced to endure.
“Alright my future wives, I believe that’s enough for today,” he called out. He clasped his hands in front of him with a loud clap. “Unless, of course, you all feel like you’d like to go another round.” That got them all moving. The three women scrambled to stand in front of them as best their aching bodies would allow them. All of them stood before him meekly avoiding making eye contact and shivering with fear. Alexander gave them all a beaming smile. “Wonderful! I believe that in lieu of that, it’s time for us all to get married then.”
—--
“Do you, King Alexander Thibault, take these women as your lawfully wedded wives?”
“I do.” Alexander beamed at the elderly priest.
“Do you, Lady Evelyne Dupont, Lady Lucille Dupont, and Lady Abigail Dupont, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Ahem,” Alexander conspicuously cleared his throat. “I believe you mean ‘Queen Evelyne Dupont’, ‘Princess Lucille Dupont’, and ‘Princess Abigail Dupont’, your Reverence. Let us not be discourteous here.” The priest shook his head with a smile under Alexander’s gentle chiding.
“You’re correct, your lordship. Allow me to mend the question. Do you, Queen Evelyne Dupont, Princess Lucille Dupont, and Princess Abigail Dupont, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The three Dupont women shivered uncomfortably. All of the eyes in the hall were on them.
As a final little game, Alexander had provided them with slave outfits instead of wedding dresses for the occasion. The thin underwear was barely enough to cover their nipples and womanhoods while the skirts each had a long slit up the side to leave one of their legs bare. Alexander had a fondness for these outfits. He knew he truly had a woman under his control if he could get them to wear something this degrading in front of an audience like this.
“I… I…” Lucille had been forced up to the front of the group. Evelyne still had the faraway look of a person being crushed with despair and Abigail was still sniffling too much to speak coherently. The princess looked pleading at Alexander, who simply gave her a warm smile. Lucille looked down at her feet, cowed. “I… I-I do,” she stammered out in a meek voice.
Alexander reached over, took Lucille’s hand, drew her towards him in an embrace, and gave her a long, passionate kiss. It was a good kiss. More than good. It made the young princess go weak at the knees to the point that only Alexander’s gentle embrace kept her standing. In any other situation she would’ve been over the moon, but now she just wanted to cry.
Once they were done, Alexander released Lucille and gently took Abigail’s hand to lead her forward. Lucille could only watch with despair as the process was repeated with her sister, then with her mother. All three women were brought to the front to say their pledges, receive a passionate kiss, and not one could bring themselves to watch it happen.
A cheer erupted from the throats of the gathered soldiers filling the hall after Alexander kissed Evelyne. Lucille shrunk into herself. The 20-year-old princess had never had a more miserable day in her life. She didn’t want to marry this madman, but the fear of being tickled again was too great. The very thought of disobeying him made her tremble with trepidation just imagining the ticklish punishment that surely awaited her in response.
The Dupont women allowed themselves to be escorted through the castle. A wide set of double doors near the top of the keep were thrown open. Never before had the royal couple’s chambers looked so intimidating to the three women. Soldiers led them over to the wide bed in the center where they were bound lengthwise across the mattress lying side by side.
Once the soldiers had marched out of the room to leave the newlyweds alone, Alexander began to remove his armor again. Lucille’s face went crimson. She’d been too distracted by the tickling to notice before, but having such a handsome young man bare his body to her was a little too stimulating for her. And to be led to a bedroom with a man she had just been forced to marry could only mean one thing. Lucille began to tremble with fear.
“Don’t look so scared. I plan to do nothing to sully a beautiful flower such as yourself.” Alexander chuckled. “After all, is the act of making love not all the more enjoyable when both man and woman are conjoined in tender embrace of their own free will? To force myself upon you all without your consent would be nothing short of sacrilege! I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure you enjoy yourself tonight.” Lucille felt like Alexander was the last one who had any right to say that after everything he’d put her family through, especially when he was reaching across the bed to pull at the strings keeping their slave outfits on. A few tugs at the knots on either side of their hips and a couple more at the one in between the cups of their bras cause the skimpy outfits to unravel. A swift tug once the knots were loose was all it took to leave all three women lying naked on the bed.
Alexander kneeled at the foot of the bed at Evelyne’s feet. He leaned in to plant a soft kiss in the middle of her bare sole, then leaned back to watch the foot feebly wiggle under the stimulation. Lucille winced at the display. She couldn’t bring herself to watch as the king came back in to lick, kiss, and nibble all over her mother’s soles. Evelyne didn’t have any energy to resist. Giggles were freely pouring out of her mouth. The queen was squirming as much with discomfort from the unusual sensations as from the ticklish little jolts the foot worship left behind.
Her discomfort was further compounded hearing her two daughters break out giggling. Alexander’s hands weren’t content to rest. Their cruel new husband was taking advantage of how closely tied together the three women were to lightly tickle the princess’ bare feet. Broke and exhausted as they were, neither girl could stifle their giggles over the light teasing.
“Don’t worry, my dears. You won’t be alone in my company for long. I’m going to bring you plenty of wives and concubines to spend time with. If my professors are to be trusted, and I assure you that none of them are liars, there should be 10 other kingdoms on the continent. From what the nobles have said, each has a royal family with beautiful women of marriageable age all their own.” Alexander’s attempts to console them only filled Lucille with dread. “And I fully intend on finding out if they’re just as ticklish as well.”
“Now, I believe we all have to consummate our marriage together, but I feel you all look too unhappy for this joyous occasion. How about I help put a smile back on all of your faces?” The words were spoken with a kind tone, but to the bound Dupont women nothing could’ve come across as more threatening. All three began to scream with fear, their bodies thrashing against the ropes binding them with what little strength they had, but none were able to prevent the wiggling fingers from coming closer to their feet. Alexander turned out to be quite the energetic young man. Lucille, Abigail, and Evelyne were about to learn that he was capable of keeping his fingers moving well into the next morning.
—-
“Good morning, my dear. I do hope last night lived up to your expectations.”
Lucille squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could against the morning greeting. Her breath was ragged. Her entire body ached. Even lightly tugging at the ropes around her wrists and ankles was too much for her tired limbs to attempt without complaining. Parts of her she hadn’t known existed were sore. The 20-year-old blonde princess lay on the large bed in a sizable damp spot of her own sweat. The absolute last thing she wanted right now was to hear the utter psychopath responsible for all of her misfortune greeting her in the morning like they were a loving married couple.
Doubly so because last night had been nothing short of a showcase in pure agony. Alexander hadn’t granted her more than a few minutes of rest in between long hours of tickling and sexual torture, and those moments she heavily suspected were solely to keep her from escaping his fingers by passing out. Lucille felt like she was never going to enjoy being brought to orgasm again for the rest of her life. Alexander had cruelly toyed with her and her family members’ sexes all night long, using his hands and beloved vibrators to alternate between edging, denying, and forcing them to orgasm on a moment’s whim. The torture had left Lucille heavily traumatized. By the end she couldn’t even catch sight of the vibrator or Alexander’s hands approaching her groin without having a full blown panic attack.
The worst part had been when Evelyne and Abigail had both been graced with the good fortune to faint from exhaustion. Lucille had been left alone to bear the full brunt of Alexander’s unending cruelty for the final couple hours of the night. She greatly resented seeing her mother and sister sleeping soundly next to her while her own torment had only ended a few minutes ago. Alexander had only stopped tickling and headed off to the bathroom after the first rays of sunshine had made their way to rest on Lucille’s bare skin. He hadn’t even bothered to untie her first before leaving.
“Up and at ‘em, lazy bones! You need to get dressed. We’ve got a full day ahead of us. The country needs to hear about our wedding! Parades! Festivals! There’s plenty of celebrating to be done to spread the word.” Alexander untied the ropes around Lucille’s hands. She did her best to ignore her body’s protests and rolled out of bed. The slave outfit she’d been forced to wear yesterday had apparently been cleaned at some point in the night. The skimpy underwear and leg baring skirt combo was freshly laid out on a nearby chair. The young prin-... newly wed queen put it on without thinking.
Lucille shivered with realization. ‘By the lord, I didn’t even think about it. I just dressed like a slave for him without a single thought,’ she glumly thought to herself. The idea of objecting hadn’t even occurred to her. The trauma of the tickling and sexual torture Alexander had put her through was so deeply ingrained in her that she struggled to even consider doing anything that might earn her the wrath of his skilled fingers again.
Lucille sent a small prayer up to the heavens as she allowed Alexander to lead her out the doors of their bedchambers. Despair had made her give in. She couldn’t imagine being able to escape the tyranny of her new husband, but a small part of her hoped against all odds that at least the other royal families could be spared from sharing her plight.
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