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This is the follow on story to Kathy / Ellie that I posted recently
Sabrina was throwing a tantrum. It was her eighteenth birthday and she was not at all happy. Despite throwing her a superb birthday party back in June as they had done every year, her parents were now dragging her round some stupid Christmas faire on her actual birthday despite the fact they knew she hated Christmas because it was too close to her birthday!
As a spoilt only-child Sabrina had always enjoyed two birthdays: one in June, one in December. But this year her parents had tried to cheat her out of getting a second day of presents and treats. Instead she was here; with these stupid women dressed as elves amongst the market stalls selling toffee apples, spiced biscuits and other delicious treats alongside nick-nacks and trinkets. Sabrina had gone into a typical selfish-spiral that consisted of demanding to have things bought for her (despite the fact she didn’t really want them) and then throwing a tantrum when her parents asked her if it was what she really wanted. Little did she realise that they could only afford one or two treats for her this year as money was tight this year…..
No she was an eighteen year-old toddler who thought only of herself. After disrupting the fair for everyone she finally flew into a full blown fit of rage, throwing herself dangerously over some railings and knocking over a lot of paraphernalia associated with whatever the women in elf costumes had been doing down below.
As Sabrina’s parents desperately tried to find a way down to see if their precious daughter was okay, the elves seized Sabrina and secured her with Christmas lights and tinsel to a large letter X that had been part of the backdrop that read: ‘X-mas’. The stroppy teenager was strangely quiet as she was secured in place, something had been said about a ‘temporary stretcher’ and she had assumed she would be taken away on to be examined by some medical professionals. But instead here she was on stage getting tied up. Somehow the shock of her fall had both ended her tantrum and lulled her into a sullen silence. Sabrina wore a red tube top and light blue pre-distressed designer jeans with holes in the thighs and at the backs of the knees, she shivered with fear and regretted throwing her Christmas jumper angrily at her mother. Sabrina squirmed, hating the feel of the tinsel and Christmas lights against her soft skin, she could also feel the crowd’s eyes on her and wanted to get away but instead she just stood there with her chest rising and falling as the adrenaline faded and terror took its place.
By the time Sabrina’s parents arrived the elves had not only finished their daughter’s bondage but had also restored and re-positioned the disrupted scenery and decorations with un-canny quickness. The elves mostly wore green costumes with red and white stripy tights and all seemed to be the right age to be students, presumably volunteering during the Christmas holidays for some extra money. There was a distinct theme of pantomime that masked the brunette in the stocks shaking her head and begging softly as hours of torture came to an end. As Sabrina’s mother fussed and apologised for her daughter in her soft northern accent, her father complained in his faint yet coarse welsh accent;
“What’s all this then! Why are you putting on a display of medieval torture that involves mih bloody daughter?!” Mr Jones grumbled.
“Don’t worry, it’s all in good fun! We just simply improvised here to prevent your lovely daughter from hurting herself or damaging anything else!” A blonde performer in an elf costume answered.
Sabrina’s father: Mr Jones looked around at the brunette getting tickled in a set of stocks; her arms were raised above her head and her toes were tied back somehow. Two of the performers were now getting secured in a much small set of double stocks close to the edge of the stage.
“You’re not going to do anything like that to her are you?” He asked grumpily.
“Well how about you come up here and we can discuss it…” The blonde elf replied as she beckoned.
Mr and Mrs Jones didn’t know what was happening, before they knew it they were on stage being interviewed by the leggy alluring blonde who held up a microphone and adjusted her own headset.
“So how old is your daughter?” The blonde elf asked.
“Eighteen” Mr Jones replied - - - “Seventeen” Mrs Jones said simultaneously.
The blonde elf looked quizzically at the pair of them.
“Well I suppose she will be eighteen in five, four, three, two…. One!” Mrs Jones added.
The crowd laughed as she started her countdown and roared with approval at the end of the countdown. Unseen by the old married couple one of the elves started to softly tickle poor Sabrina with a feather causing her to let out a loud squeak. A sharp glance from the blonde elf caused the young Korean elf to stop and shyly hide away, she had not been able to resist using the countdown as an excuse to slip in the first tickles.
“And how often do you have to punish your daughter?” The blonde elf asked nonchalantly.
“Oh we have never punished her darling, we don’t believe in it!” Mrs Jones answered.
“Much the pity!” Mr Jones mumbled to himself.
“And how often do you tickle your daughter?” The blonde elf asked gently.
“Well never…” The pair mumbled in unison before Mrs Jones added; “she wouldn’t like it!”
“Oh, so she is ticklish?” The blonde elf asked cheerfully.
“Yes she is a very sensitive girl!” Mrs Jones replied.
“Promise me you won’t tickle my daughter like ‘er!” Mr Jones interjected gesturing at the brunette in the stocks who seemed delirious.
“We promise we won’t tickle your daughter like our lovely volunteer!” The blonde elf replied.
“Don’t tickle her at all!” Mr Jones angrily snapped, less affected by the hypnosis than his wife.
“We shall not lay a finger on her!” The blonde elf cheerfully replied, diffusing some of Mr Jones’ residual anger, adding;
“But you know she is ticklish?” The blonde elf asked again.
Both of the interviewees murmured yes becoming more and more entranced by their interviewer’s eyes. The crowd was enjoying both the interview and the tickling of four elves and the brunette.
“So…If I were to give you these soft feathers, and you were to gently run them over her neck and exposed underarms that is something that would make her laugh and smile?” The blonde elf asked, holding out four long fluffy feathers.
Before they knew it the married couple were tickling their daughter with the feathers making her scream and shout as well as giggle sweetly proving that there was a nice ticklish girl underneath.
“MUMMY!!! HAHA HAHA DADDY!! HAHA STOP!!!” Sabrina protested as the feathers swished over her soft sensitive neck.
“No you see! She doesn’t like this at all, she does misbehave but she is a good girl underneath!” Sabrina’s mother insisted.
“Yeah, underneath a lot of rudeness!” Sabrina’s father grumbled in his Welsh accent.
“So you have never tickled her before, has anyone else?” The blonde elf asked, keeping the couple entranced.
“Well there was a boy at school once, we know because she broke his jaw and had to go in…” Mrs Jones replied in her faint northern accent.
“Bloody glass-jawed wimp! Touchin’ my daughter! Ought to be locked-up!” Mr Jones interjected, oblivious to the fact that he was using two feathers to deadly effect on his daughter’s underarms as she silently pleaded for the tickling to stop.
“So this boy took a feather to school and gave your daughter a few playful tickles…” The blonde elf began.
“No! No! No!... He just snuck up behind her and started tickling her like this!” Mr Jones replied, dropping the feathers and stepping behind the X frame and digging in to his daughters sides with his strong fingers causing Sabrina to scream;
“DAD!!! STOP!!!!”
“Yer see she can’t bloody stand it!” Mr Jones added, oblivious that what he was doing was real and not taking place in some liminal space.
“No she doesn’t like getting tickled like this at all!” Mrs Jones insisted, shaking her head as she fluttered two feathers in her daughter’s underarms.
“And she would like you using your fingers on those underarms even less I suppose?...” The blonde elf asked.
“Oh no she would hate that, the soft tickly feathers are annoying for her but if I were to do this!” - - - Mrs Jones dropped the feathers and started tickling her daughter by hand - - - “She will absolutely hit the roof!”
Sabrina screamed and struggled but the X-frame wouldn’t give. The tinsel and Christmas tree lights allowed her some movement but she could not get free. The tickling carried on like this for maybe only five or ten minutes but it felt like longer to the giddy girl. Her mother seemed oblivious to what she was doing and started to hum and sing in that annoying way she did when she cleaned the house. Her father meanwhile occasionally started to snap out of it, saying: ‘ANG ON’ as he blinked as if awakening from dream.
The blonde elf spotted that the hypnosis had a much looser grip on the Welshman’s stubborn mind and gestured to one of her minions the agreed upon signal for: ‘distract him!’ It was a simple gesture, unnecessary given the nature of the elves but within seconds the younger elf picked was chatting to Mr Jones about his garden, his house, what he thought about this and that. Slowly but surely he was moved away from his daughter and wife to the edge of the stage where the elves would take it in turns to keep him yammering away about the minutiae of his life.
On stage Sabrina was tickled by her mother until her father was spirited away to distraction. The temporary reprieve of having just one tickler was short lived. The elves had freed one of her ankles and legs and were starting to remove her fashionable trainers as she struggled. The blonde elf kept Sabrina’s mother chatting to the amusement of the crowd.
“…No she doesn’t like to go barefoot or even wear sandals really…. so she wouldn’t like people tickling her feet!” Her mother opined as she tickled her daughter’s tummy and bellybutton.
“So even if you were to softly tickle this socked foot she would scream and not smile?” The blonde elf asked.
Sabrina winced as the elves bent her leg behind her through the lowest gap in the X-frame and twisted her fashionable trainer off her foot with a twist, taking full advantage of the laces that were not tied but simply tucked in.
“Oh yes! She hates having her feet touched! You see!” Mrs Jones replied softly tracing her short but sharp nails you and down her daughter’s sole, tracing a delightfully delicate bath from the heel to the ball of her foot and skittering with a flutter back across her taut, socked arches.
“MUMMY!!” Sabrina protested.
“Yes, Mummy’s here sweetness!” Mrs Jones reassured her daughter whilst still tickling away, her short nails getting faster and applying more pressure.
“And if we were to remove her sock?” The blonde elf asked.
“Oh no! She would hate that!.., I mean she will wear those silly strappy Roman sandals she doesn’t think I know are under her bed…. That is, when she slips out to go dancing with the fake I.D. that I sort-of know she must have…” Mrs Jones rambled; the hypnosis tapping into her subconscious.
“So it would tickle her really badly if you were to skitter your lovely nails over these soft soles Mrs Jones?” The blonde elf asked, as two of her elf companions held Sabrina’s ankles and toes so that her soft creamy soles were taut and vulnerable.
“Oh absolutely! She is such a tender-footed little princess!... She had never had to schlepp through the mud at a biker festival like her mother!... It is all Taxi’s and glamping for her!” Mrs Jones exclaimed triumphantly as she tickled away, her daughter screaming;
“MOMMY NO!!!! STOP!!! I’M SORRY!!!!”
Mrs Jones’ nails danced a skittering dance over her daughter’s soft, creamy arches. Mrs Jones hummed faintly, the way she did when she cleaned. The slender vixen-like women was almost entirely unaware of the torment she inflicted upon her precious daughter who screamed and begged, to the crowds’ great amusement. She was almost unaware, almost! There was a part of Tricia Jones that wanted her daughter to suffer! ‘Spoilt little brat!.. Getting ev’ry chance I never ‘ad and throwing it back in my face!’ She vaguely remembered being grabbed and stretched out on a pool table by a bunch of bikers when she was her daughter’s age, there was no harm in it but they tickled the much younger Mrs Jones until she pissed herself, ruining the pool table and getting all them all thrown out of that particular dive-bar.
Lately Tricia had become lost in a haze of alcohol and Valium-soft middle age. Life had become routine without any excitement beyond trying to cope with her spoiled daughter’s latest meltdown or temper tantrum. She tried to hide her drinking and socially-acceptable drug addiction from both her husband, family and the wider world but it had taken its toll. The once inquisitive, daring and challenging punk-rock girl had become nothing more than a textbook example of pathetic surrender to the weary world she had once fought so hard against. She had once been a vibrant, dangerous girl who died her hair a million different colours and faked seizures at parties when she got bored. Now she permed her hair and dyed it a reddish brown because that was the cheapest!
Still as Tricia skittered her short, well maintained nails over her daughter soft soles something of the old-fire came back to her! It didn’t go un-noticed, the blonde elf beheld the older woman in her conservative blouse, skirts, nylons and Christmas jumper and hat, behind the blonde elf’s blue eyes a terrible male voice in her mind intoned;
‘POTENTIAL!!!’
The elves returned Sabrina’s sock loosely to one foot and adjusted her bondage so that her mother could have a go and ‘checking to see if the other one was just as ticklish’. It was a cruel pantomime! Made crueller when the elves began modified the X-frame. A Scottish elf came over to apply clamps, pulleys and ratchets in the place of the tinsel and lights that had previously held poor Sabrina. Mrs Jones was distracted by the elves asking her questions and fussing her as her daughter was stretched out tight on the X-frame; it had been so long since someone asked her about her!’ she thought as she blearily returned to noticed her daughter getting stretched tighter and tighter on the X-frame.
Sabrina screamed as she felt each limb getting pulled tighter and tighter. The crowd thought it was all part of the show, or else had been so annoyed by her they approved of this cruel treatment. Before long Mrs Jones was tickling her daughter’s now immobile underarms with two soft fluffy feathers, she wasn’t sure where her husband had gotten to but vaguely remembered something he had said earlier as she realised the elves were now tickling her daughter too.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to tickle her?” Mrs Jones asked woozily.
“Oh no we said we weren’t going to tickle your daughter like her!” The blonde elf answered, gesturing to the brunette in the stocks.
The blonde elf was glad to finally get some time to tickle a pretty girl and was having lots of fun using two feathers on the backs of Sabrina’s exposed knees. Sabrina screamed and struggled but it was no use. The other elves had eagerly joined in having hungrily waited for so long. They removed Sabrina’s shoes and socks quickly and took turns to hold back her toes so that arches, toes and every ticklish spot received the maximum amount of torture from no fewer than three elves per foot, some knelt as they did this whereas other lay on their tummies, waving their sexy legs in the air behind them. The elves were frustrated that they could only use feathers and not their fingers but had managed to trap Sabrina’s toes in little lassoes made of red liquorice to keep their promise ‘not to lay a finger on her’. The elves tormented Sabrina’s sensitive body all at once with feathers, exploring the backs of her helpless knees, her thighs and hips. Some elves joined Mrs Jones in tickling her spoilt daughters neck, underarms and face.
Somehow the elves even managed to gag Sabrina with a giant gobstopper that was tied in place with more of the red liquorice. Sabrina cried out to her mother with her eyes but it was like the stupid old woman didn’t see her, she had this glazed look on her face that scared Sabrina more than anything else: ‘how are they getting away with this!’ She thought as her mother hummed softly as she tickled her along with a dozen or so elves. Even one elf’s administrations was enough to drive Sabrina insane, just as Sabrina thought things couldn’t get any worse she felt her toes get tied back, the red liquorice being tied to leather straps secured around her lower calves. Now even more feathers could dance between her toes and glide their terrible sharp points up and down her taut trapped soles.
Every time Mrs Jones started to come-to and become more lucid the elves gave her a tutorial in tickling her daughter to return her to her trance-like state. Sabrina had tried screaming out to her mother with her eyes, tried throwing her head from side to side but nothing seemed to get through. Her mother had been taught to tickle her feet, underarms, sides and worst of all the backs of her outstretched knees! ‘Oh god that is so much worse than feathers!’ Sabrina had thought as her mother’s fingertip lightly caresses the sensitive helpless skin with just the right amount of pressure. Now the elves were shaping up for something diabolical. Sabrina knew what was about to happen but was powerless to stop it. The blonde elf guided Tricia’s fingers up her daughter’s hip bones to the ‘sweet-spot’ that was stretched out and vulnerable, explaining as she did;
“Now this little spot is almost always the way to truly break in a wilful, silly girl!... All you need to do is push down and wiggle your fingers like this!”
Sabrina screamed as her mother’s fingers pushed down with just the right pressure on just the right spot and started wiggling around in the perfect way to send her into a fit. The sweet sugary goo from Sabrina’s gobstopper gag dribbled down her cheeks and neck. The blonde elf let go of Tricia’s wrist’s saying;
“You’ve got it!... Just like that!.... Keep going!!!”
Sabrina went berserk. She didn’t think she could have been tickle-tortured any worse, but this sent her over the edge into a complete red-faced fit of rage as she struggled against her bonds making her impromptu-rack shake and rattle. The crowd loved it and roared with approval. Suddenly a terrible feeling brought Sabrina round: ‘She was going to pee!’
She found her mother’s eyes and began to beg through her gag:
“MMMHHMM!!!! HHHHIIII!!!! NNNNHHHDDD OOOOOUU PPPPHHHHIIII!”
Something of the deep maternal bond between Tricia and her daughter made Mrs Jones snap out of her trance and start blinking; stunned she mumbled.
“I think we need to stop now! I think we need to get her down from there and maybe make her a nice cup of tea!...”
“Yes she is going to pee herself on stage soon, and that will be humiliating for her!... The cold air tugging at her wet designer jeans she bought with money stolen from your purse!” A brunette elf whispered in Tricia’s ear.
Suddenly, Tricia shivered with fear. A faint memory from her punk-rock days had bubbled to the surface of her mind. Her and ‘the gang’ had captured a bookish girl returning from her first year at University, they had stretched her out over a picnic table and tickled her without mercy. They had gagged her with pages torn out of notebook and drawn all over her with her own biros and highlighter pens, the biros working best on her sensitive soles. Like most bookworms she had soft, sensitive pale feet that always enjoyed the protection of socks and shoes. The worst humiliation had come for the sensitive girl after twenty minutes of torture when she finally couldn’t take it anymore and wet herself. It wasn’t like the time when Trish’ pissed herself on the pool table, she had laughed that off because she was completely off her face on speed and god-knows what else! Instead Tricia remembered the poor girl with tears running down her cheeks as her deep blue jeans dripped. She didn’t want her daughter ending up like that.
“No! Get her down! You can tickle me in her place if you like!” Tricia Jones snapped.
“A kind offer Mrs Jones! But what we were thinking of is the two of you in those long stocks and nobody will tickle either of you unless you agree to it…” The brunette elf whispered.
“Deal!” Tricia snapped.
Within second the blonde elf, who had been working the crowd shouted something like ‘Hey presto!’ and threw down two smoke bombs. One at the X-frame one at the long stocks. As the smoke cleared Sabrina and her mother found themselves sat in the long stocks with their wrists secured either side of their trapped ankles.
“How did you do that? And what did you do with my shoes and jumper?” Mrs Jones asked.
…..... “See she has rehearsed those lines!” A pedantic voice from the crowd insisted.
“Those are here Mrs Jones!” The blonde elf answered opening up a gift box to reveal Mrs Jones’ conservative flats with her festive Christmas jumper neatly folded up underneath.
“Those aren’t mine! Mine ‘av a scuff on the heel!” Tricia insisted as the crowd murmured, still surprised by the feat of misdirection they assumed they had just witnessed as opposed to real magic.
“Now we made a promise to these lovely ladies that neither would be tickled unless mummy says so!” The blonde elf announced, ignoring Mrs Jones insistence that the shoes were not hers…
“…So instead of tickling we have something equally diabolical! This ladies and gentlemen is itching powder!”
Sabrina began to scream into her gag as the crowd gasped and guffawed, some delighted others horrified. Desperately she tried to free herself from the long stocks but the two heavy planks held firm, gripping her slender ankles and wrists perfectly. An elf with glasses and a tight pony tail was passed the jar. She wore blue medical gloves and; whilst pretty, looked austere and clinical.
“You’re not going to put that on my daughter’s feet are you?!” Mrs Jones asked.
“We are!” The blonde elf replied cheerfully.
“You’re not?!” Mrs Jones asked incredulously as her daughter’s toes were tied back to the brass contraptions on the stocks.
“We are!” The blonde elf replied again, leaning in to enhance the aspect of pantomime to the crowd’s amusement.
This little: ‘yer not… We are!’ routine went back and forth to the crowd’s amusement, meanwhile each and every one of Sabrina’s toes was tied back. The poor girl struggled but the elves were well practised and try as she might she could not reach her feet with her hands, they were just out of reach. Finally the archaic comedy routine came to an end as the blonde elf announced;
“We ‘ave!” Mimicking her captive’s accent.
Mrs Jones was shocked. Her daughter was screaming in rage and struggling as a brunette elf with a high pony tail ran a swab up and down her soft soles. It was clear from Sabrina’s muffled cries that she was trying to say things like: ‘GET IT OFF ME!’... ‘THAT ITCHES’… And worst of all:
‘MUMMY HELP!!!!’
“No you have to get it off her now! My Sabrina is a very sensitive girl!” Tricia insisted.
“But we can’t take it off until we have got it all on!” The blonde elf insisted.
“What do you mean?” Tricia asked, still disoriented.
“Well we can’t take the itching powder off until we have got it all on” The blonde elf said again, her tone conveying that this nonsense was an absolute fact.
“Well then get it on ‘er faster so you can take it off quicker!” Tricia replied, feeling somehow stupid but wanting her daughter torment to be over as quickly as possible.
“We can do but we will have to use brushes for that, and they might tickle your daughter….” The blonde elf added, her tone working its magic.
“Do what you have to! The brushes won’t tickle that badly! She just got tickled half to madness!” As Tricia spoke a part of her realised that she had just been tickling her daughter and she frowned, trying to make sense of the strange events of the day.
Sabrina screamed as more elves gloved up to join in the application of the torturous powder. It wasn’t like her feet were on fire but she desperately wanted to scratch her feet but couldn’t reach them because of the stocks, not that this stopped her trying. The crowd loved watching the sexy girl struggle and through her frantic struggles Sabrina tried to cry out to them with her eyes.
“That’s not real itching powder!” One woman said.
“No she is just an actress too! Look her reactions are so fake!” A man added.
The elves dipped the soft make up brushes in the powder and began to apply it faster to her soles, using a large brush for each arch and finer brushes to get between her toes. Sabrina screamed at the tickly sensations finding even this unbearable.
“See no woman is that ticklish! She is faking it! I can tell!!!” A male voice from the crowd insisted.
The elves were cruel and temporarily released each of Sabrina’s toes so that the terrible powder could be applied to every spot of tender skin, before the cruel toe-ties were reapplied. As they finished their work Sabrina was shaking, trying to find someone in the crowd who would realise she was not an actress. Her mother meanwhile continued her repartee with the blonde elf.
“Now you see Mrs Jones we still have half a jar left so we have two options: we either apply it to the parts of your daughter on the other side of the stocks…. Or we apply it to your lovely nylon-clad soles” The blonde elf explained.
“And we can make a little go a long way! A brunette elf whispered in Tricia’s ear, adding; “We will apply a thin layer to your daughter’s neck and face…. We will get it in her belly button and all over that flat tummy, we will exploit the holes in her trendy pre-distressed jeans to get it on her legs, maybe even see if we can get it down her top and in her panties without the crowd noticing! She is only wearing a thong you know? You let your daughter leave the house like that this morning…”
Mrs Jones started to beg for the itching powder to be applied to her own soles. She could not stand the thought of her daughter having it on her face and neck, never mind the terrible things the brunette elf whispered afterwards. Wanting to speed up her daughter’s release Tricia snapped;
“C’mon get the rest of that itching powder on my soles so you can get it off ‘ers” She thought she had noticed a way to trick the elves; her nylons would protect her from the itching powder. At no point did she notice the gaping holes in the logic of this awful game.
The crowd watched bemused as the rest of the powder was applied to Tricia’s feet and legs. The older woman smiled and giggled slightly as the elves caressed her feet but it was nothing compared to her daughters frantic muffled pleases for anyone to scratch her feet. Two elves posed with back-scratchers for the amusement of the crowd but pretended not to understand the poor girl’s muffled pleas:
“SCCCRRRHHHTTTCH MHHHHIII FFFFHHHHTTT!”
Mrs Jones had begun to curl her toes and squirm just slightly.
“Hmm that does itch a little bit!” She complained as some of the power worked its way through the sheer fabric of her black nylons.
“Yes you think you have been clever Mrs Jones! But will you feel so clever when you release your nylon are on inside out!” The blond elf announced gesturing theatrically as she threw down one of her smaller smoke bombs.
Some of the crowd didn’t understand, but those that did howled with laughter and pointed at Tricia as the noticed the change. The white powder that had coated her nylon-clad soles was gone and her feet squirmed in response to the new terrible itchy sensations.
Tricia didn’t believe her senses as the itchy sensations overwhelmed her, she could also see the tell-thread at the toes that betrayed and inside out stocking or set of tights. Desperately she struggled crying aloud;
“HOW DID YOU DO THAT!... They are insi’... OH LORD THAT’S ITCHY!!!...” Tricia curled and flexed her toes, only succeeding in getting the awful powder spread over more of her skin: “IT ITCHES!... They are inside out now, how?…OH NO IT’S GETTING WORSE!”
The elves laughed, the crowd laughed and Tricia screamed:
“Get this stuff of mine and me daughter feet right away! You hear me!”
Her once soft northern accent now angry and enraged as it had been back when she was ‘Trish!’ in her youth.
“We can get it off Mrs Jones, but we will to scrub it off with hot soapy water as the first step of the process… and that might tickle!” The blonde elf cheerfully replied.
“JUST GET IT OFF YOU BLONDE BIT-” Trish’s profanity was cut off by one of the elves blowing a very loud whistle as she danced for the crowd’s amusement.
With uncanny speed the elves presented buckets of hot soapy water and began scrubbing Sabrina’s soles, this tickled far worse than the back scratchers that had briefly been used to scratch and tickle her trapped soles. Mrs Jones nylons were torn from her struggling legs and feet both above and below the stocks by the elves still wearing blue gloves. As she screamed and ranted they began wiping her legs down with fragrant wet-wipes and tying back her toes. Trish screamed at them to ‘GET OFF HER’ and also to ‘GET THE POWDER OFF QUICKLY’. The cruel brunette elf had whispered in her ear that the longer the powder stayed on her skin the more difficult it was to remove fully, and if they missed a spot she would just be itchy there forever. In her entranced state Tricia believed this and screamed at the elves to: “GET IT OFF! GET IT ALL OFF!” As the elves ripped away her nylons.
“Well we shall stick to just your nylons… for now!” The blonde elf chipped in, pulling a silly face for the crowd.
Tricia began to scream and squeal with laughter as her feet were scrubbed, just like her daughter’s. Sabrina was definitely suffering as the soap and suds were worked in and out of her soft tender soles to remove the powder that had penetrated the first few layers of skin. The elves used stiff-bristled brushes on her arches and toothbrushes on her toes. Sabrina couldn’t believe how diabolical the toe-ties were! She had endured having each big toe trapped by the red liquorice when she was on the X-frame but this was far worse! Every toe was slayed out and vulnerable and her arches were stretched taut and forced to suffer the full wrath of the terrible soapy brushes. Her mother wasn’t faring much better and was howling a wide mouthed silent laughter of torment.
“Better get a nice ball-gag in that for you!” The brunette elf announced applying the same gobstopper-gag that had been used to silence her daughter.
Tricia had forgotten how ticklish she was, it had been so long since anyone had tickled her! She vaguely remembered through the drug-addled haze a night in her twenties when a biker-boyfriend had just tickled her silly. What was weird was that although it was torture she got super horny and was sure she fucked them even harder in the dingy toilets of whatever dive-bar this happened in. Tricia didn’t think much about those days but as her toes were tied back she found herself feeling a tingly sensation in her loins that she had not felt in a long time.
Most of the crowd’s attention was on Sabrina but her mother’s wrinkled soles came into focus as the first motorised brushes were produced. With an evil whir the terrible brushes were applied to Tricia’s soles causing her to scream into her new but gooey gag. Another brush was tested on her daughter’s soles causing the crowd to laugh as the blonde elf quipped: ‘like mother like daughter!’ As the pair struggled and begged into their gags.
Mrs Jones was given a pedicure with a little white devices that removed the small amount of dead skin from her heels and the balls of her feet. She had seen these on TV but scoffed at the people who bought them: ‘because who is looking at yer feet?!...’ Now her feet were being prepared for maximum aesthetic appeal and maximum sensitivity. The scrubbing of her daughter's feet had stopped and the elves were now doing something with a hairdryer.
“Oh yes! We are going to have to scrub your feet a little longer!” The brunette elf whispered; “But you can get a lovely sneak preview of the torments to come! We are roasting your daughter’s soles, we will not burn them or let her experience any pain… But this makes feet even more ticklish, especially with our special oil and the other steps you will find out about soon!”
Tricia didn’t have to wait long to experience the roasting and the oil. It was terrifying but she felt her libido racing as her soles heated up to the point just before pain and discomfort and kept at that temperature as each nerve was put on red-alert. The oil made it more intense, as did her concerns for her daughter. The elves were now using some kind of black devices to tickle and maybe shock her daughter’s feet. The brunette elf explained that these tickled ALL of the nerves in each foot not just the ones at the surface, and that like every part of ‘the treatment’ they would make both her and her daughter more ticklish. Before Tricia could experience them the blonde elf announced that she was to be subjected to an extra torture;
“Now poor widdle Sabrina here is too sensitive and frightened to try this next part! But her mother has told me she was ‘hard-core back in the day!’ and this is something she secretly always wanted to try…”
As the blonde elf spoke Tricia began to wonder how her captors’ knew all this. True, when Tricia had drunk one too many sweet sherries, she would insist fervently that she was; ‘hard-core back in the day’, a bit like a stuck record she would repeat this phrase over and over. Tricia had also enjoyed a morbid curiosity with ancient torture methods as a teenager and wondered what the blonde elf was going to do to her…
‘Oh no!’ Tricia thought as the brunette elf produced a thick leather strap.
Trish’ had read about bastinado and both dreaded and delighted the prospect of being in a harem and receiving the discipline of the strap and rod on her soft soles. Now that it was going to really happen she didn’t know what to do, she was glad her daughter wasn’t going to be subjected to it, although the elves seemed to being a superb job of keeping her in ticklish agony, using sharp quills on her soft creamy arches and what looked like electric flossers on her trapped toes. The elves were true to their word though: ‘they didn’t lay a finger on her’ they had plenty of better torture instruments at their disposal, although their gloves were pushing the envelope. Tricia’s was entranced until the leather strap was brought to a sharp crack making her jump.
The first stroke caught Tricia by surprise catching her on the right heel. She took stroke after stroke to her soles, the leather strap making her feet redden, particularly at the heels and the balls of her feet. The strokes to her arches were the worst, but not painful enough to be described as torture. Tricia was starting to enjoy the sexual humiliation until a petite elf with pigtails whispered in her ear;
“You know the best thing about this is that it makes ticklish feet more ticklish, we are going to make you and your daughter too ticklish to even walk. By the looks of it she is halfway there already!”
This burst Trish’s bubble and she began to struggle again. A black: cat-o’nine tails was used on her arches to finalise the show. Her heels and the balls of her feet were already a deep crimson. The black mess of woven leather straps brought her arches to a delightful deep shade of pink perfection. Tricia was in heaven and hell. She could feel the blood coursing through her body and was scared that if even one of the elves touched her feet she would climax hard, her long repressed libido pulsating within her.
She was wrong, as the blonde elf tested her soles with her brunette friend, Tricia discovered that tickling was now just pure torture! She could not stand to be touched! They had made her more ticklish than her daughter had been without the sensitising treatment. The blonde and brunette used their sharp nails and discussed their victim;
“Oh that is superb work sweetie!” The blonde elf opined.
“Oh thank you! I think she likes it you know!” The brunette elf replied.
Tricia frantically shook her head to try and show she hated it but her actions were misconstrued as part of the pantomime. Meanwhile her daughter’s torment had been elevated to include vibrating hairbrushes on each arch and heel and flossers and electric toothbrushes on every toe and the delicate laces between. Sensing they were getting close to the limit they could push their victim, an Asian elf asked;
“Do you want us to tickle Mummy like this instead?”
Sabrina frantically nodded. The crowd was made aware of this act of betrayal as was ‘Dearest Mama!’ who begged through her gag not to be tickled this way on her freshly sensitised soles.
As she enjoyed her brief reprieve Sabrina, beheld the crowd who seemed to be trying to take pictures of her. At first she was humiliated and angry but then she noticed the irritated expressions and finger swiping of those trying to capture her humiliation. Part of her tantrum had been because her stupid phone wasn’t working. She didn’t understand how the elves were still getting away with this….
Somehow her stupid father was still deep in conversation with one of the sluts about something utterly tedious! ‘God she hated her father!’ Sabrina’s mother had always been a soft touch, but the ruthless tickle torture she had inflicted upon poor Sabrina had made her both more afraid and less respectful of ‘Dear Mama’. It was nothing compared to the torment ‘Dear Mama!’ received now as the terrible vibrating hairbrushes were used on her hot, pink hypersensitive arches. Sabrina had no pity for her and desperately hoped her ordeal was over. There were two ebony skinned elves working the crowd; one with dreadlocks, one with corn-rows, Sabrina heard them say;
“It’s all part of the show!” Just like in that stupid film her friends liked despite the fact it was ancient and stupid.
Sabrina also listened to the crowd and tried to find someone to save her; a knight in shining armour or someone who wasn’t entranced or stupid enough to believe that she was okay with this. As Sabrina considered her terrible situation she screamed internally:
‘THIS IS THE WORST BIRTHDAY EVER!!!’
Just as Sabrina thought she couldn’t get more disgusted by humanity she curled her nose as she smelt the unmistakable smell of quim. At first she thought one of the elves was even more of a pervert and had Jilled-off, but then she noticed her mother’s red face and eyes that had rolled back into her head.
‘How disgusting! What does she get off on this! Did she set all of this up!’ Sabrina didn’t have long to contemplate as the show progressed to a new level of terror.
There were animals now. Sabrina winced as she smelt the pungent goo applied to her mother’s soles. The blonde elf went on and on about all the places this torture was practised and Sabrina scowled as two small puppies were held up to lick her mother’s arches clean. For Trish’ this torture was almost a dream come true, she had dreamed of being subjected to the ‘supplice de chevre’ in Medieval France, but in her teenage fantasies she preferred to be one of the townspeople subjecting this cruel torture on the town tart.
The orgasm had made Tricia hypersensitive, it had snuck up on her as the elves began tickling her upper body as well as her feet. One elf had been swapping between tickling her thighs and tummy and Tricia’s brain had filled in the gaps. Worst of all, her humiliation hadn’t stopped; the more the elves tickled her the more she climaxed, her overstimulated nerves at the point where she would climax hard whether her pussy was touched or not. The puppy’s tongues were terrible, rough and wet they lapped at her arches. Next to her, Sabrina curled her own toes against the toe-ties and desperately hoped she would not be subjected to the same ordeal.
She was half-right: ‘Whatever corrupt charity was in on this also had cats!’ Sabrina struggled and begged comically as her own soles were coated in what smelled like tuna oil. The cats began to sniff from within their baskets before reaching through the bars to lick and lap at her gooey soles. Their tongues were like nothing Sabrina had ever felt before, they were raspy and sandpapery yet flexible and able to get every nook and cranny between her trapped toes. As Sabrina suffered her mother’s soles were scrubbed clean. After what felt like hours but was only a few minutes Sabrina was asked if she wanted to ‘give this torture to mummy!’ Fervently she nodded and the cats were taken away and repositioned at her Mother’s soles.
Then Sabrina’s soles were scrubbed and heated again. Sabrina screamed in rage as one ticklish torment was merely replaced by another. The torment became a delirium for both mother and daughter as their soles were ‘processed again’ with hot water and hairdryers for the benefit of those who missed the show earlier and also those who just simply were not going to leave, no matter what. They watched as Mrs Jones soles were slapped again, she was given twenty lashes per foot and asked each time if she wanted to ‘give the rest to her daughter’. After ten strokes to each sole Tricia stopped shaking her head diligently and started nodding fervently;
“MMMMHHHHMMMYYYY!” Sabrina protested as two elves slinked over with the black whips.
The black cat-o’nine tails didn’t hurt Sabrina at all, but her mother’s betrayal did. She could feel her arches get more sensitive with each stroke just as the gothic elf said she would, 'Gothie' cruelly whispering in the desperate teenager’s ear and loving the look of fear on her face. After this the torture just became overwhelming, it occupied every part of each woman’s thoughts to the extent that nothing else in the world seemed to exist. The blur of torment only came into sharp focus as mother and daughter realised the elves were now selling tickets to the crowd who would then tickle their feet.
Tickets were sold in pairs for a minute at each of their soles. Both mother and daughter had to get tickled by all who came to feel the soft warm skin of their sensitive soles. Some wanted to only tickle Sabrina but all enjoyed tickling the older woman’s feet too. Their touches were not as experienced as those of the elves who were masters of torment, that said the torture did not abate as the elves continued to tease their upper bodies and legs and whisper in their ears. Using feathers on Sabrina and cruel fingers for her mother’s hypersensitive body.
The crowd had watched hungrily, desperately wanting to know what it was like to inflict such torment. There was nothing like the feel of soft ticklish skin under one’s fingertips and many a fetishist was created this day, straight laced conformists wanting to repeat the experience of having a pretty woman at their mercy this way! Many were convinced the women were ‘just actresses’ but these same people were equally proud that they ‘made them laugh for real!’
Tricia vaguely recognised one patron as the brunette who had been in the stocks earlier. Now she tickled both her and her daughter along with a Muslim woman in a bourka whom she spoke softly to;
“You see! This is all safe and fun! They love it!” Ellie purred to her new friend.
After hours of torment the blonde elf knew the time had come to send the distressed duo down below. As a break in the crowd allowed her to practise her magic, she used a cape alongside her smoke bombs to reposition the pair into the main stocks. There were now two sets of stocks of the type had held Ellie, side by side on the main stage. Mother and daughter were tickled some more whilst gagged until Mrs Jones’ gag was removed.
“So we can either carry on your torment on stage or you and your daughter can escape this humiliation to the South Pole?” The blonde elf asked.
“Enough!” Tricia wailed; “T’ South Pole ‘as to be better than this!”
Another elf pulled a lever to the side of the stage and both set of stocks dropped. Slowly the stocks lowered until the two women’s struggling hands were all that was visible in the bonds above their heads. Then the trap doors rattled closed and both stocks fell, free falling into darkness. Both Mother and Daughter screamed as the earth literally seemed to open up to swallow them, they were falling, falling for far longer than they thought possible.
Forever falling, deeper and deeper, falling for eternity into nothing but darkness.
Sabrina was throwing a tantrum. It was her eighteenth birthday and she was not at all happy. Despite throwing her a superb birthday party back in June as they had done every year, her parents were now dragging her round some stupid Christmas faire on her actual birthday despite the fact they knew she hated Christmas because it was too close to her birthday!
As a spoilt only-child Sabrina had always enjoyed two birthdays: one in June, one in December. But this year her parents had tried to cheat her out of getting a second day of presents and treats. Instead she was here; with these stupid women dressed as elves amongst the market stalls selling toffee apples, spiced biscuits and other delicious treats alongside nick-nacks and trinkets. Sabrina had gone into a typical selfish-spiral that consisted of demanding to have things bought for her (despite the fact she didn’t really want them) and then throwing a tantrum when her parents asked her if it was what she really wanted. Little did she realise that they could only afford one or two treats for her this year as money was tight this year…..
No she was an eighteen year-old toddler who thought only of herself. After disrupting the fair for everyone she finally flew into a full blown fit of rage, throwing herself dangerously over some railings and knocking over a lot of paraphernalia associated with whatever the women in elf costumes had been doing down below.
As Sabrina’s parents desperately tried to find a way down to see if their precious daughter was okay, the elves seized Sabrina and secured her with Christmas lights and tinsel to a large letter X that had been part of the backdrop that read: ‘X-mas’. The stroppy teenager was strangely quiet as she was secured in place, something had been said about a ‘temporary stretcher’ and she had assumed she would be taken away on to be examined by some medical professionals. But instead here she was on stage getting tied up. Somehow the shock of her fall had both ended her tantrum and lulled her into a sullen silence. Sabrina wore a red tube top and light blue pre-distressed designer jeans with holes in the thighs and at the backs of the knees, she shivered with fear and regretted throwing her Christmas jumper angrily at her mother. Sabrina squirmed, hating the feel of the tinsel and Christmas lights against her soft skin, she could also feel the crowd’s eyes on her and wanted to get away but instead she just stood there with her chest rising and falling as the adrenaline faded and terror took its place.
By the time Sabrina’s parents arrived the elves had not only finished their daughter’s bondage but had also restored and re-positioned the disrupted scenery and decorations with un-canny quickness. The elves mostly wore green costumes with red and white stripy tights and all seemed to be the right age to be students, presumably volunteering during the Christmas holidays for some extra money. There was a distinct theme of pantomime that masked the brunette in the stocks shaking her head and begging softly as hours of torture came to an end. As Sabrina’s mother fussed and apologised for her daughter in her soft northern accent, her father complained in his faint yet coarse welsh accent;
“What’s all this then! Why are you putting on a display of medieval torture that involves mih bloody daughter?!” Mr Jones grumbled.
“Don’t worry, it’s all in good fun! We just simply improvised here to prevent your lovely daughter from hurting herself or damaging anything else!” A blonde performer in an elf costume answered.
Sabrina’s father: Mr Jones looked around at the brunette getting tickled in a set of stocks; her arms were raised above her head and her toes were tied back somehow. Two of the performers were now getting secured in a much small set of double stocks close to the edge of the stage.
“You’re not going to do anything like that to her are you?” He asked grumpily.
“Well how about you come up here and we can discuss it…” The blonde elf replied as she beckoned.
Mr and Mrs Jones didn’t know what was happening, before they knew it they were on stage being interviewed by the leggy alluring blonde who held up a microphone and adjusted her own headset.
“So how old is your daughter?” The blonde elf asked.
“Eighteen” Mr Jones replied - - - “Seventeen” Mrs Jones said simultaneously.
The blonde elf looked quizzically at the pair of them.
“Well I suppose she will be eighteen in five, four, three, two…. One!” Mrs Jones added.
The crowd laughed as she started her countdown and roared with approval at the end of the countdown. Unseen by the old married couple one of the elves started to softly tickle poor Sabrina with a feather causing her to let out a loud squeak. A sharp glance from the blonde elf caused the young Korean elf to stop and shyly hide away, she had not been able to resist using the countdown as an excuse to slip in the first tickles.
“And how often do you have to punish your daughter?” The blonde elf asked nonchalantly.
“Oh we have never punished her darling, we don’t believe in it!” Mrs Jones answered.
“Much the pity!” Mr Jones mumbled to himself.
“And how often do you tickle your daughter?” The blonde elf asked gently.
“Well never…” The pair mumbled in unison before Mrs Jones added; “she wouldn’t like it!”
“Oh, so she is ticklish?” The blonde elf asked cheerfully.
“Yes she is a very sensitive girl!” Mrs Jones replied.
“Promise me you won’t tickle my daughter like ‘er!” Mr Jones interjected gesturing at the brunette in the stocks who seemed delirious.
“We promise we won’t tickle your daughter like our lovely volunteer!” The blonde elf replied.
“Don’t tickle her at all!” Mr Jones angrily snapped, less affected by the hypnosis than his wife.
“We shall not lay a finger on her!” The blonde elf cheerfully replied, diffusing some of Mr Jones’ residual anger, adding;
“But you know she is ticklish?” The blonde elf asked again.
Both of the interviewees murmured yes becoming more and more entranced by their interviewer’s eyes. The crowd was enjoying both the interview and the tickling of four elves and the brunette.
“So…If I were to give you these soft feathers, and you were to gently run them over her neck and exposed underarms that is something that would make her laugh and smile?” The blonde elf asked, holding out four long fluffy feathers.
Before they knew it the married couple were tickling their daughter with the feathers making her scream and shout as well as giggle sweetly proving that there was a nice ticklish girl underneath.
“MUMMY!!! HAHA HAHA DADDY!! HAHA STOP!!!” Sabrina protested as the feathers swished over her soft sensitive neck.
“No you see! She doesn’t like this at all, she does misbehave but she is a good girl underneath!” Sabrina’s mother insisted.
“Yeah, underneath a lot of rudeness!” Sabrina’s father grumbled in his Welsh accent.
“So you have never tickled her before, has anyone else?” The blonde elf asked, keeping the couple entranced.
“Well there was a boy at school once, we know because she broke his jaw and had to go in…” Mrs Jones replied in her faint northern accent.
“Bloody glass-jawed wimp! Touchin’ my daughter! Ought to be locked-up!” Mr Jones interjected, oblivious to the fact that he was using two feathers to deadly effect on his daughter’s underarms as she silently pleaded for the tickling to stop.
“So this boy took a feather to school and gave your daughter a few playful tickles…” The blonde elf began.
“No! No! No!... He just snuck up behind her and started tickling her like this!” Mr Jones replied, dropping the feathers and stepping behind the X frame and digging in to his daughters sides with his strong fingers causing Sabrina to scream;
“DAD!!! STOP!!!!”
“Yer see she can’t bloody stand it!” Mr Jones added, oblivious that what he was doing was real and not taking place in some liminal space.
“No she doesn’t like getting tickled like this at all!” Mrs Jones insisted, shaking her head as she fluttered two feathers in her daughter’s underarms.
“And she would like you using your fingers on those underarms even less I suppose?...” The blonde elf asked.
“Oh no she would hate that, the soft tickly feathers are annoying for her but if I were to do this!” - - - Mrs Jones dropped the feathers and started tickling her daughter by hand - - - “She will absolutely hit the roof!”
Sabrina screamed and struggled but the X-frame wouldn’t give. The tinsel and Christmas tree lights allowed her some movement but she could not get free. The tickling carried on like this for maybe only five or ten minutes but it felt like longer to the giddy girl. Her mother seemed oblivious to what she was doing and started to hum and sing in that annoying way she did when she cleaned the house. Her father meanwhile occasionally started to snap out of it, saying: ‘ANG ON’ as he blinked as if awakening from dream.
The blonde elf spotted that the hypnosis had a much looser grip on the Welshman’s stubborn mind and gestured to one of her minions the agreed upon signal for: ‘distract him!’ It was a simple gesture, unnecessary given the nature of the elves but within seconds the younger elf picked was chatting to Mr Jones about his garden, his house, what he thought about this and that. Slowly but surely he was moved away from his daughter and wife to the edge of the stage where the elves would take it in turns to keep him yammering away about the minutiae of his life.
On stage Sabrina was tickled by her mother until her father was spirited away to distraction. The temporary reprieve of having just one tickler was short lived. The elves had freed one of her ankles and legs and were starting to remove her fashionable trainers as she struggled. The blonde elf kept Sabrina’s mother chatting to the amusement of the crowd.
“…No she doesn’t like to go barefoot or even wear sandals really…. so she wouldn’t like people tickling her feet!” Her mother opined as she tickled her daughter’s tummy and bellybutton.
“So even if you were to softly tickle this socked foot she would scream and not smile?” The blonde elf asked.
Sabrina winced as the elves bent her leg behind her through the lowest gap in the X-frame and twisted her fashionable trainer off her foot with a twist, taking full advantage of the laces that were not tied but simply tucked in.
“Oh yes! She hates having her feet touched! You see!” Mrs Jones replied softly tracing her short but sharp nails you and down her daughter’s sole, tracing a delightfully delicate bath from the heel to the ball of her foot and skittering with a flutter back across her taut, socked arches.
“MUMMY!!” Sabrina protested.
“Yes, Mummy’s here sweetness!” Mrs Jones reassured her daughter whilst still tickling away, her short nails getting faster and applying more pressure.
“And if we were to remove her sock?” The blonde elf asked.
“Oh no! She would hate that!.., I mean she will wear those silly strappy Roman sandals she doesn’t think I know are under her bed…. That is, when she slips out to go dancing with the fake I.D. that I sort-of know she must have…” Mrs Jones rambled; the hypnosis tapping into her subconscious.
“So it would tickle her really badly if you were to skitter your lovely nails over these soft soles Mrs Jones?” The blonde elf asked, as two of her elf companions held Sabrina’s ankles and toes so that her soft creamy soles were taut and vulnerable.
“Oh absolutely! She is such a tender-footed little princess!... She had never had to schlepp through the mud at a biker festival like her mother!... It is all Taxi’s and glamping for her!” Mrs Jones exclaimed triumphantly as she tickled away, her daughter screaming;
“MOMMY NO!!!! STOP!!! I’M SORRY!!!!”
Mrs Jones’ nails danced a skittering dance over her daughter’s soft, creamy arches. Mrs Jones hummed faintly, the way she did when she cleaned. The slender vixen-like women was almost entirely unaware of the torment she inflicted upon her precious daughter who screamed and begged, to the crowds’ great amusement. She was almost unaware, almost! There was a part of Tricia Jones that wanted her daughter to suffer! ‘Spoilt little brat!.. Getting ev’ry chance I never ‘ad and throwing it back in my face!’ She vaguely remembered being grabbed and stretched out on a pool table by a bunch of bikers when she was her daughter’s age, there was no harm in it but they tickled the much younger Mrs Jones until she pissed herself, ruining the pool table and getting all them all thrown out of that particular dive-bar.
Lately Tricia had become lost in a haze of alcohol and Valium-soft middle age. Life had become routine without any excitement beyond trying to cope with her spoiled daughter’s latest meltdown or temper tantrum. She tried to hide her drinking and socially-acceptable drug addiction from both her husband, family and the wider world but it had taken its toll. The once inquisitive, daring and challenging punk-rock girl had become nothing more than a textbook example of pathetic surrender to the weary world she had once fought so hard against. She had once been a vibrant, dangerous girl who died her hair a million different colours and faked seizures at parties when she got bored. Now she permed her hair and dyed it a reddish brown because that was the cheapest!
Still as Tricia skittered her short, well maintained nails over her daughter soft soles something of the old-fire came back to her! It didn’t go un-noticed, the blonde elf beheld the older woman in her conservative blouse, skirts, nylons and Christmas jumper and hat, behind the blonde elf’s blue eyes a terrible male voice in her mind intoned;
‘POTENTIAL!!!’
The elves returned Sabrina’s sock loosely to one foot and adjusted her bondage so that her mother could have a go and ‘checking to see if the other one was just as ticklish’. It was a cruel pantomime! Made crueller when the elves began modified the X-frame. A Scottish elf came over to apply clamps, pulleys and ratchets in the place of the tinsel and lights that had previously held poor Sabrina. Mrs Jones was distracted by the elves asking her questions and fussing her as her daughter was stretched out tight on the X-frame; it had been so long since someone asked her about her!’ she thought as she blearily returned to noticed her daughter getting stretched tighter and tighter on the X-frame.
Sabrina screamed as she felt each limb getting pulled tighter and tighter. The crowd thought it was all part of the show, or else had been so annoyed by her they approved of this cruel treatment. Before long Mrs Jones was tickling her daughter’s now immobile underarms with two soft fluffy feathers, she wasn’t sure where her husband had gotten to but vaguely remembered something he had said earlier as she realised the elves were now tickling her daughter too.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to tickle her?” Mrs Jones asked woozily.
“Oh no we said we weren’t going to tickle your daughter like her!” The blonde elf answered, gesturing to the brunette in the stocks.
The blonde elf was glad to finally get some time to tickle a pretty girl and was having lots of fun using two feathers on the backs of Sabrina’s exposed knees. Sabrina screamed and struggled but it was no use. The other elves had eagerly joined in having hungrily waited for so long. They removed Sabrina’s shoes and socks quickly and took turns to hold back her toes so that arches, toes and every ticklish spot received the maximum amount of torture from no fewer than three elves per foot, some knelt as they did this whereas other lay on their tummies, waving their sexy legs in the air behind them. The elves were frustrated that they could only use feathers and not their fingers but had managed to trap Sabrina’s toes in little lassoes made of red liquorice to keep their promise ‘not to lay a finger on her’. The elves tormented Sabrina’s sensitive body all at once with feathers, exploring the backs of her helpless knees, her thighs and hips. Some elves joined Mrs Jones in tickling her spoilt daughters neck, underarms and face.
Somehow the elves even managed to gag Sabrina with a giant gobstopper that was tied in place with more of the red liquorice. Sabrina cried out to her mother with her eyes but it was like the stupid old woman didn’t see her, she had this glazed look on her face that scared Sabrina more than anything else: ‘how are they getting away with this!’ She thought as her mother hummed softly as she tickled her along with a dozen or so elves. Even one elf’s administrations was enough to drive Sabrina insane, just as Sabrina thought things couldn’t get any worse she felt her toes get tied back, the red liquorice being tied to leather straps secured around her lower calves. Now even more feathers could dance between her toes and glide their terrible sharp points up and down her taut trapped soles.
Every time Mrs Jones started to come-to and become more lucid the elves gave her a tutorial in tickling her daughter to return her to her trance-like state. Sabrina had tried screaming out to her mother with her eyes, tried throwing her head from side to side but nothing seemed to get through. Her mother had been taught to tickle her feet, underarms, sides and worst of all the backs of her outstretched knees! ‘Oh god that is so much worse than feathers!’ Sabrina had thought as her mother’s fingertip lightly caresses the sensitive helpless skin with just the right amount of pressure. Now the elves were shaping up for something diabolical. Sabrina knew what was about to happen but was powerless to stop it. The blonde elf guided Tricia’s fingers up her daughter’s hip bones to the ‘sweet-spot’ that was stretched out and vulnerable, explaining as she did;
“Now this little spot is almost always the way to truly break in a wilful, silly girl!... All you need to do is push down and wiggle your fingers like this!”
Sabrina screamed as her mother’s fingers pushed down with just the right pressure on just the right spot and started wiggling around in the perfect way to send her into a fit. The sweet sugary goo from Sabrina’s gobstopper gag dribbled down her cheeks and neck. The blonde elf let go of Tricia’s wrist’s saying;
“You’ve got it!... Just like that!.... Keep going!!!”
Sabrina went berserk. She didn’t think she could have been tickle-tortured any worse, but this sent her over the edge into a complete red-faced fit of rage as she struggled against her bonds making her impromptu-rack shake and rattle. The crowd loved it and roared with approval. Suddenly a terrible feeling brought Sabrina round: ‘She was going to pee!’
She found her mother’s eyes and began to beg through her gag:
“MMMHHMM!!!! HHHHIIII!!!! NNNNHHHDDD OOOOOUU PPPPHHHHIIII!”
Something of the deep maternal bond between Tricia and her daughter made Mrs Jones snap out of her trance and start blinking; stunned she mumbled.
“I think we need to stop now! I think we need to get her down from there and maybe make her a nice cup of tea!...”
“Yes she is going to pee herself on stage soon, and that will be humiliating for her!... The cold air tugging at her wet designer jeans she bought with money stolen from your purse!” A brunette elf whispered in Tricia’s ear.
Suddenly, Tricia shivered with fear. A faint memory from her punk-rock days had bubbled to the surface of her mind. Her and ‘the gang’ had captured a bookish girl returning from her first year at University, they had stretched her out over a picnic table and tickled her without mercy. They had gagged her with pages torn out of notebook and drawn all over her with her own biros and highlighter pens, the biros working best on her sensitive soles. Like most bookworms she had soft, sensitive pale feet that always enjoyed the protection of socks and shoes. The worst humiliation had come for the sensitive girl after twenty minutes of torture when she finally couldn’t take it anymore and wet herself. It wasn’t like the time when Trish’ pissed herself on the pool table, she had laughed that off because she was completely off her face on speed and god-knows what else! Instead Tricia remembered the poor girl with tears running down her cheeks as her deep blue jeans dripped. She didn’t want her daughter ending up like that.
“No! Get her down! You can tickle me in her place if you like!” Tricia Jones snapped.
“A kind offer Mrs Jones! But what we were thinking of is the two of you in those long stocks and nobody will tickle either of you unless you agree to it…” The brunette elf whispered.
“Deal!” Tricia snapped.
Within second the blonde elf, who had been working the crowd shouted something like ‘Hey presto!’ and threw down two smoke bombs. One at the X-frame one at the long stocks. As the smoke cleared Sabrina and her mother found themselves sat in the long stocks with their wrists secured either side of their trapped ankles.
“How did you do that? And what did you do with my shoes and jumper?” Mrs Jones asked.
…..... “See she has rehearsed those lines!” A pedantic voice from the crowd insisted.
“Those are here Mrs Jones!” The blonde elf answered opening up a gift box to reveal Mrs Jones’ conservative flats with her festive Christmas jumper neatly folded up underneath.
“Those aren’t mine! Mine ‘av a scuff on the heel!” Tricia insisted as the crowd murmured, still surprised by the feat of misdirection they assumed they had just witnessed as opposed to real magic.
“Now we made a promise to these lovely ladies that neither would be tickled unless mummy says so!” The blonde elf announced, ignoring Mrs Jones insistence that the shoes were not hers…
“…So instead of tickling we have something equally diabolical! This ladies and gentlemen is itching powder!”
Sabrina began to scream into her gag as the crowd gasped and guffawed, some delighted others horrified. Desperately she tried to free herself from the long stocks but the two heavy planks held firm, gripping her slender ankles and wrists perfectly. An elf with glasses and a tight pony tail was passed the jar. She wore blue medical gloves and; whilst pretty, looked austere and clinical.
“You’re not going to put that on my daughter’s feet are you?!” Mrs Jones asked.
“We are!” The blonde elf replied cheerfully.
“You’re not?!” Mrs Jones asked incredulously as her daughter’s toes were tied back to the brass contraptions on the stocks.
“We are!” The blonde elf replied again, leaning in to enhance the aspect of pantomime to the crowd’s amusement.
This little: ‘yer not… We are!’ routine went back and forth to the crowd’s amusement, meanwhile each and every one of Sabrina’s toes was tied back. The poor girl struggled but the elves were well practised and try as she might she could not reach her feet with her hands, they were just out of reach. Finally the archaic comedy routine came to an end as the blonde elf announced;
“We ‘ave!” Mimicking her captive’s accent.
Mrs Jones was shocked. Her daughter was screaming in rage and struggling as a brunette elf with a high pony tail ran a swab up and down her soft soles. It was clear from Sabrina’s muffled cries that she was trying to say things like: ‘GET IT OFF ME!’... ‘THAT ITCHES’… And worst of all:
‘MUMMY HELP!!!!’
“No you have to get it off her now! My Sabrina is a very sensitive girl!” Tricia insisted.
“But we can’t take it off until we have got it all on!” The blonde elf insisted.
“What do you mean?” Tricia asked, still disoriented.
“Well we can’t take the itching powder off until we have got it all on” The blonde elf said again, her tone conveying that this nonsense was an absolute fact.
“Well then get it on ‘er faster so you can take it off quicker!” Tricia replied, feeling somehow stupid but wanting her daughter torment to be over as quickly as possible.
“We can do but we will have to use brushes for that, and they might tickle your daughter….” The blonde elf added, her tone working its magic.
“Do what you have to! The brushes won’t tickle that badly! She just got tickled half to madness!” As Tricia spoke a part of her realised that she had just been tickling her daughter and she frowned, trying to make sense of the strange events of the day.
Sabrina screamed as more elves gloved up to join in the application of the torturous powder. It wasn’t like her feet were on fire but she desperately wanted to scratch her feet but couldn’t reach them because of the stocks, not that this stopped her trying. The crowd loved watching the sexy girl struggle and through her frantic struggles Sabrina tried to cry out to them with her eyes.
“That’s not real itching powder!” One woman said.
“No she is just an actress too! Look her reactions are so fake!” A man added.
The elves dipped the soft make up brushes in the powder and began to apply it faster to her soles, using a large brush for each arch and finer brushes to get between her toes. Sabrina screamed at the tickly sensations finding even this unbearable.
“See no woman is that ticklish! She is faking it! I can tell!!!” A male voice from the crowd insisted.
The elves were cruel and temporarily released each of Sabrina’s toes so that the terrible powder could be applied to every spot of tender skin, before the cruel toe-ties were reapplied. As they finished their work Sabrina was shaking, trying to find someone in the crowd who would realise she was not an actress. Her mother meanwhile continued her repartee with the blonde elf.
“Now you see Mrs Jones we still have half a jar left so we have two options: we either apply it to the parts of your daughter on the other side of the stocks…. Or we apply it to your lovely nylon-clad soles” The blonde elf explained.
“And we can make a little go a long way! A brunette elf whispered in Tricia’s ear, adding; “We will apply a thin layer to your daughter’s neck and face…. We will get it in her belly button and all over that flat tummy, we will exploit the holes in her trendy pre-distressed jeans to get it on her legs, maybe even see if we can get it down her top and in her panties without the crowd noticing! She is only wearing a thong you know? You let your daughter leave the house like that this morning…”
Mrs Jones started to beg for the itching powder to be applied to her own soles. She could not stand the thought of her daughter having it on her face and neck, never mind the terrible things the brunette elf whispered afterwards. Wanting to speed up her daughter’s release Tricia snapped;
“C’mon get the rest of that itching powder on my soles so you can get it off ‘ers” She thought she had noticed a way to trick the elves; her nylons would protect her from the itching powder. At no point did she notice the gaping holes in the logic of this awful game.
The crowd watched bemused as the rest of the powder was applied to Tricia’s feet and legs. The older woman smiled and giggled slightly as the elves caressed her feet but it was nothing compared to her daughters frantic muffled pleases for anyone to scratch her feet. Two elves posed with back-scratchers for the amusement of the crowd but pretended not to understand the poor girl’s muffled pleas:
“SCCCRRRHHHTTTCH MHHHHIII FFFFHHHHTTT!”
Mrs Jones had begun to curl her toes and squirm just slightly.
“Hmm that does itch a little bit!” She complained as some of the power worked its way through the sheer fabric of her black nylons.
“Yes you think you have been clever Mrs Jones! But will you feel so clever when you release your nylon are on inside out!” The blond elf announced gesturing theatrically as she threw down one of her smaller smoke bombs.
Some of the crowd didn’t understand, but those that did howled with laughter and pointed at Tricia as the noticed the change. The white powder that had coated her nylon-clad soles was gone and her feet squirmed in response to the new terrible itchy sensations.
Tricia didn’t believe her senses as the itchy sensations overwhelmed her, she could also see the tell-thread at the toes that betrayed and inside out stocking or set of tights. Desperately she struggled crying aloud;
“HOW DID YOU DO THAT!... They are insi’... OH LORD THAT’S ITCHY!!!...” Tricia curled and flexed her toes, only succeeding in getting the awful powder spread over more of her skin: “IT ITCHES!... They are inside out now, how?…OH NO IT’S GETTING WORSE!”
The elves laughed, the crowd laughed and Tricia screamed:
“Get this stuff of mine and me daughter feet right away! You hear me!”
Her once soft northern accent now angry and enraged as it had been back when she was ‘Trish!’ in her youth.
“We can get it off Mrs Jones, but we will to scrub it off with hot soapy water as the first step of the process… and that might tickle!” The blonde elf cheerfully replied.
“JUST GET IT OFF YOU BLONDE BIT-” Trish’s profanity was cut off by one of the elves blowing a very loud whistle as she danced for the crowd’s amusement.
With uncanny speed the elves presented buckets of hot soapy water and began scrubbing Sabrina’s soles, this tickled far worse than the back scratchers that had briefly been used to scratch and tickle her trapped soles. Mrs Jones nylons were torn from her struggling legs and feet both above and below the stocks by the elves still wearing blue gloves. As she screamed and ranted they began wiping her legs down with fragrant wet-wipes and tying back her toes. Trish screamed at them to ‘GET OFF HER’ and also to ‘GET THE POWDER OFF QUICKLY’. The cruel brunette elf had whispered in her ear that the longer the powder stayed on her skin the more difficult it was to remove fully, and if they missed a spot she would just be itchy there forever. In her entranced state Tricia believed this and screamed at the elves to: “GET IT OFF! GET IT ALL OFF!” As the elves ripped away her nylons.
“Well we shall stick to just your nylons… for now!” The blonde elf chipped in, pulling a silly face for the crowd.
Tricia began to scream and squeal with laughter as her feet were scrubbed, just like her daughter’s. Sabrina was definitely suffering as the soap and suds were worked in and out of her soft tender soles to remove the powder that had penetrated the first few layers of skin. The elves used stiff-bristled brushes on her arches and toothbrushes on her toes. Sabrina couldn’t believe how diabolical the toe-ties were! She had endured having each big toe trapped by the red liquorice when she was on the X-frame but this was far worse! Every toe was slayed out and vulnerable and her arches were stretched taut and forced to suffer the full wrath of the terrible soapy brushes. Her mother wasn’t faring much better and was howling a wide mouthed silent laughter of torment.
“Better get a nice ball-gag in that for you!” The brunette elf announced applying the same gobstopper-gag that had been used to silence her daughter.
Tricia had forgotten how ticklish she was, it had been so long since anyone had tickled her! She vaguely remembered through the drug-addled haze a night in her twenties when a biker-boyfriend had just tickled her silly. What was weird was that although it was torture she got super horny and was sure she fucked them even harder in the dingy toilets of whatever dive-bar this happened in. Tricia didn’t think much about those days but as her toes were tied back she found herself feeling a tingly sensation in her loins that she had not felt in a long time.
Most of the crowd’s attention was on Sabrina but her mother’s wrinkled soles came into focus as the first motorised brushes were produced. With an evil whir the terrible brushes were applied to Tricia’s soles causing her to scream into her new but gooey gag. Another brush was tested on her daughter’s soles causing the crowd to laugh as the blonde elf quipped: ‘like mother like daughter!’ As the pair struggled and begged into their gags.
Mrs Jones was given a pedicure with a little white devices that removed the small amount of dead skin from her heels and the balls of her feet. She had seen these on TV but scoffed at the people who bought them: ‘because who is looking at yer feet?!...’ Now her feet were being prepared for maximum aesthetic appeal and maximum sensitivity. The scrubbing of her daughter's feet had stopped and the elves were now doing something with a hairdryer.
“Oh yes! We are going to have to scrub your feet a little longer!” The brunette elf whispered; “But you can get a lovely sneak preview of the torments to come! We are roasting your daughter’s soles, we will not burn them or let her experience any pain… But this makes feet even more ticklish, especially with our special oil and the other steps you will find out about soon!”
Tricia didn’t have to wait long to experience the roasting and the oil. It was terrifying but she felt her libido racing as her soles heated up to the point just before pain and discomfort and kept at that temperature as each nerve was put on red-alert. The oil made it more intense, as did her concerns for her daughter. The elves were now using some kind of black devices to tickle and maybe shock her daughter’s feet. The brunette elf explained that these tickled ALL of the nerves in each foot not just the ones at the surface, and that like every part of ‘the treatment’ they would make both her and her daughter more ticklish. Before Tricia could experience them the blonde elf announced that she was to be subjected to an extra torture;
“Now poor widdle Sabrina here is too sensitive and frightened to try this next part! But her mother has told me she was ‘hard-core back in the day!’ and this is something she secretly always wanted to try…”
As the blonde elf spoke Tricia began to wonder how her captors’ knew all this. True, when Tricia had drunk one too many sweet sherries, she would insist fervently that she was; ‘hard-core back in the day’, a bit like a stuck record she would repeat this phrase over and over. Tricia had also enjoyed a morbid curiosity with ancient torture methods as a teenager and wondered what the blonde elf was going to do to her…
‘Oh no!’ Tricia thought as the brunette elf produced a thick leather strap.
Trish’ had read about bastinado and both dreaded and delighted the prospect of being in a harem and receiving the discipline of the strap and rod on her soft soles. Now that it was going to really happen she didn’t know what to do, she was glad her daughter wasn’t going to be subjected to it, although the elves seemed to being a superb job of keeping her in ticklish agony, using sharp quills on her soft creamy arches and what looked like electric flossers on her trapped toes. The elves were true to their word though: ‘they didn’t lay a finger on her’ they had plenty of better torture instruments at their disposal, although their gloves were pushing the envelope. Tricia’s was entranced until the leather strap was brought to a sharp crack making her jump.
The first stroke caught Tricia by surprise catching her on the right heel. She took stroke after stroke to her soles, the leather strap making her feet redden, particularly at the heels and the balls of her feet. The strokes to her arches were the worst, but not painful enough to be described as torture. Tricia was starting to enjoy the sexual humiliation until a petite elf with pigtails whispered in her ear;
“You know the best thing about this is that it makes ticklish feet more ticklish, we are going to make you and your daughter too ticklish to even walk. By the looks of it she is halfway there already!”
This burst Trish’s bubble and she began to struggle again. A black: cat-o’nine tails was used on her arches to finalise the show. Her heels and the balls of her feet were already a deep crimson. The black mess of woven leather straps brought her arches to a delightful deep shade of pink perfection. Tricia was in heaven and hell. She could feel the blood coursing through her body and was scared that if even one of the elves touched her feet she would climax hard, her long repressed libido pulsating within her.
She was wrong, as the blonde elf tested her soles with her brunette friend, Tricia discovered that tickling was now just pure torture! She could not stand to be touched! They had made her more ticklish than her daughter had been without the sensitising treatment. The blonde and brunette used their sharp nails and discussed their victim;
“Oh that is superb work sweetie!” The blonde elf opined.
“Oh thank you! I think she likes it you know!” The brunette elf replied.
Tricia frantically shook her head to try and show she hated it but her actions were misconstrued as part of the pantomime. Meanwhile her daughter’s torment had been elevated to include vibrating hairbrushes on each arch and heel and flossers and electric toothbrushes on every toe and the delicate laces between. Sensing they were getting close to the limit they could push their victim, an Asian elf asked;
“Do you want us to tickle Mummy like this instead?”
Sabrina frantically nodded. The crowd was made aware of this act of betrayal as was ‘Dearest Mama!’ who begged through her gag not to be tickled this way on her freshly sensitised soles.
As she enjoyed her brief reprieve Sabrina, beheld the crowd who seemed to be trying to take pictures of her. At first she was humiliated and angry but then she noticed the irritated expressions and finger swiping of those trying to capture her humiliation. Part of her tantrum had been because her stupid phone wasn’t working. She didn’t understand how the elves were still getting away with this….
Somehow her stupid father was still deep in conversation with one of the sluts about something utterly tedious! ‘God she hated her father!’ Sabrina’s mother had always been a soft touch, but the ruthless tickle torture she had inflicted upon poor Sabrina had made her both more afraid and less respectful of ‘Dear Mama’. It was nothing compared to the torment ‘Dear Mama!’ received now as the terrible vibrating hairbrushes were used on her hot, pink hypersensitive arches. Sabrina had no pity for her and desperately hoped her ordeal was over. There were two ebony skinned elves working the crowd; one with dreadlocks, one with corn-rows, Sabrina heard them say;
“It’s all part of the show!” Just like in that stupid film her friends liked despite the fact it was ancient and stupid.
Sabrina also listened to the crowd and tried to find someone to save her; a knight in shining armour or someone who wasn’t entranced or stupid enough to believe that she was okay with this. As Sabrina considered her terrible situation she screamed internally:
‘THIS IS THE WORST BIRTHDAY EVER!!!’
Just as Sabrina thought she couldn’t get more disgusted by humanity she curled her nose as she smelt the unmistakable smell of quim. At first she thought one of the elves was even more of a pervert and had Jilled-off, but then she noticed her mother’s red face and eyes that had rolled back into her head.
‘How disgusting! What does she get off on this! Did she set all of this up!’ Sabrina didn’t have long to contemplate as the show progressed to a new level of terror.
There were animals now. Sabrina winced as she smelt the pungent goo applied to her mother’s soles. The blonde elf went on and on about all the places this torture was practised and Sabrina scowled as two small puppies were held up to lick her mother’s arches clean. For Trish’ this torture was almost a dream come true, she had dreamed of being subjected to the ‘supplice de chevre’ in Medieval France, but in her teenage fantasies she preferred to be one of the townspeople subjecting this cruel torture on the town tart.
The orgasm had made Tricia hypersensitive, it had snuck up on her as the elves began tickling her upper body as well as her feet. One elf had been swapping between tickling her thighs and tummy and Tricia’s brain had filled in the gaps. Worst of all, her humiliation hadn’t stopped; the more the elves tickled her the more she climaxed, her overstimulated nerves at the point where she would climax hard whether her pussy was touched or not. The puppy’s tongues were terrible, rough and wet they lapped at her arches. Next to her, Sabrina curled her own toes against the toe-ties and desperately hoped she would not be subjected to the same ordeal.
She was half-right: ‘Whatever corrupt charity was in on this also had cats!’ Sabrina struggled and begged comically as her own soles were coated in what smelled like tuna oil. The cats began to sniff from within their baskets before reaching through the bars to lick and lap at her gooey soles. Their tongues were like nothing Sabrina had ever felt before, they were raspy and sandpapery yet flexible and able to get every nook and cranny between her trapped toes. As Sabrina suffered her mother’s soles were scrubbed clean. After what felt like hours but was only a few minutes Sabrina was asked if she wanted to ‘give this torture to mummy!’ Fervently she nodded and the cats were taken away and repositioned at her Mother’s soles.
Then Sabrina’s soles were scrubbed and heated again. Sabrina screamed in rage as one ticklish torment was merely replaced by another. The torment became a delirium for both mother and daughter as their soles were ‘processed again’ with hot water and hairdryers for the benefit of those who missed the show earlier and also those who just simply were not going to leave, no matter what. They watched as Mrs Jones soles were slapped again, she was given twenty lashes per foot and asked each time if she wanted to ‘give the rest to her daughter’. After ten strokes to each sole Tricia stopped shaking her head diligently and started nodding fervently;
“MMMMHHHHMMMYYYY!” Sabrina protested as two elves slinked over with the black whips.
The black cat-o’nine tails didn’t hurt Sabrina at all, but her mother’s betrayal did. She could feel her arches get more sensitive with each stroke just as the gothic elf said she would, 'Gothie' cruelly whispering in the desperate teenager’s ear and loving the look of fear on her face. After this the torture just became overwhelming, it occupied every part of each woman’s thoughts to the extent that nothing else in the world seemed to exist. The blur of torment only came into sharp focus as mother and daughter realised the elves were now selling tickets to the crowd who would then tickle their feet.
Tickets were sold in pairs for a minute at each of their soles. Both mother and daughter had to get tickled by all who came to feel the soft warm skin of their sensitive soles. Some wanted to only tickle Sabrina but all enjoyed tickling the older woman’s feet too. Their touches were not as experienced as those of the elves who were masters of torment, that said the torture did not abate as the elves continued to tease their upper bodies and legs and whisper in their ears. Using feathers on Sabrina and cruel fingers for her mother’s hypersensitive body.
The crowd had watched hungrily, desperately wanting to know what it was like to inflict such torment. There was nothing like the feel of soft ticklish skin under one’s fingertips and many a fetishist was created this day, straight laced conformists wanting to repeat the experience of having a pretty woman at their mercy this way! Many were convinced the women were ‘just actresses’ but these same people were equally proud that they ‘made them laugh for real!’
Tricia vaguely recognised one patron as the brunette who had been in the stocks earlier. Now she tickled both her and her daughter along with a Muslim woman in a bourka whom she spoke softly to;
“You see! This is all safe and fun! They love it!” Ellie purred to her new friend.
After hours of torment the blonde elf knew the time had come to send the distressed duo down below. As a break in the crowd allowed her to practise her magic, she used a cape alongside her smoke bombs to reposition the pair into the main stocks. There were now two sets of stocks of the type had held Ellie, side by side on the main stage. Mother and daughter were tickled some more whilst gagged until Mrs Jones’ gag was removed.
“So we can either carry on your torment on stage or you and your daughter can escape this humiliation to the South Pole?” The blonde elf asked.
“Enough!” Tricia wailed; “T’ South Pole ‘as to be better than this!”
Another elf pulled a lever to the side of the stage and both set of stocks dropped. Slowly the stocks lowered until the two women’s struggling hands were all that was visible in the bonds above their heads. Then the trap doors rattled closed and both stocks fell, free falling into darkness. Both Mother and Daughter screamed as the earth literally seemed to open up to swallow them, they were falling, falling for far longer than they thought possible.
Forever falling, deeper and deeper, falling for eternity into nothing but darkness.
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This is a fine series. 
