As the stocks came down on my ankles, I started to regret my decision. The two men on either side of me grabbed my wrists, binding them to place above my head. One was younger, around my age, dressed as some sort of noble lord. The other man was older, in the full motley garb of a court jester.
“Here ye, here ye!” The jester bellowed to the crowd of onlookers. “Today we shall be punishing—what’s your name?”
“Jim.” I respond with a nervous smile.
“We shall be punishing Jim, for the grave crime of being a BAD BOYFRIEND! Booooo!” He waved his hands, indicating for the crowd to follow suit. They playfully joined along, booing me and laughing. My girlfriend laughed with them, savoring the image of me locked in the stocks. She snapped a quick photo on her phone.
“Smile, babe.” She giggled. “I told you there’d be a punishment if you didn’t dress up for the renfair. You deserve this.” She stuck her tongue out as I rolled my eyes. It was true that she put a lot more effort into it than I did. She was dressed in a long, white sundress painstakingly adorned with vines and blue flowers, with full green sparkling makeup tuning down her face and arms. A forest druid or something, I guess. I opted for a tank top, jean shorts, and sneakers. The renfair just wasn’t really my thing, but a promise was a promise. So I’d play along for a bit, and take my “punishment”. Better that then start an argument about it—I had reneged on my promise to buy a squire outfit, after all.
“Prepare to be disappointed.” I replied. “I’m not even ticklish.”
“That’s what they all say.” Said the jester. “The punishment shall commence! The bad boyfriend shall be tickled mercilessly until he has learned his lesson!” He walked out of my sight line. The small group of onlookers cheered. It was a mixed crowd of men and women, young and old. A few, like me, were in normal street wear, but the majority were decked out in some costume or another. They smiled with anticipation, all enjoying the absurdity of some medieval tickle-torture. After a moment, I heard his voice coming from right behind me, making me jump a little. “Daniel, if you would prepare his feet. I’ve got the armpits this time.”
“Sure thing.” The younger man said. He lifted the heel of my right shoe, then the left. As his fingers hooked into my socks and began to pull them away, I began to feel uneasy.
“Woah.” I said. “The socks too? Can’t those stay on?” I felt ridiculous asking instead of, well, demanding. They were my feet, after all. But somehow, I felt like I was very much not in control of this situation.
“Nope.” The younger man said confidently. “Don’t worry, criminal. You’re not ticklish, remember?” He winked at me. I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could—
—I felt a completely unbearable sensation invade my armpits. It was a light scratching, feather soft little bristles making their way into my pit hollows. I craned my head to look at the source of the intrusion—two ostrich feathers, welded by the jester. “Coochie, coochie.” The older man said. “Mr. not ticklish. I wonder how long that will last with my feathers in your pits.”
“Uhuhuhaha.” I tried to stifle a giggle, my body attempting to jerk away out of pure reflex. I heard some chuckles arise from the audience. The sensation was totally alien to me. I hadn’t been tickled since I was a kid, and never like this before, never bound in front of a group of people. It was kind of a torturous feeling, actually. My natural reaction was to bring my arms down and protect myself, but the bonds at my wrists held firm. The jester kept stroking them up and down my pits, a consistent rhythm of those soft yet firm tips dragging around the center of my underarms. “Hehe-hey!” I squirmed in the stocks, but I could barely budge an inch. It was an interesting sensation, the strong desire to make the light, feathery touches stop, but with no clear way to accomplish my goal. I started to panic a little. I locked eyes with my girlfriend, who was now grinning from ear to ear. She had her phone out, now presumably taking a video. She shot me a thumbs up, giggling with glee at my predicament. Somehow, the mix of panic combined with the very public nature of my torture was beginning to increase my sensitivity. It felt like the more I struggled, the harder it was to contain my laughter. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, desperately keeping it in. Do not laugh. I told myself. Do not laugh in front of all these people. I could tell that once the laughter started, I wouldn’t be able to contain it. If I could just last three, maybe four minutes—five tops, they would give up and let me go, right? You aren’t ticklish, you aren’t—
My internal monologue was interrupted by the introduction two more feathers scraping across my bare soles.
“BAHAHAHAHA!” The laughter came pouring out of me in a flood of ticklishness. These feathers were softer, fluffier, and they ran up and down the length of my feet with devilish speed, across the heel, ball, threading in between toes, moving constantly across my wiggling feet. “EHEHEHHE!” I screeched, a high pitch whine that didn’t even sound like it could be produced by a man. The young man smirked as he continued his torture of my feet.
“Well, well, well. That didn’t last very long.” He turned towards the audience. “Looks like the bad boyfriend is a little ticklish, huh folks?”
A cheer went up from the crowd. They laughed and clapped, egging my tormenters on for their amusement. I imagined how it must have looked—a grown man, shrieking like a little girl just from a little tickling. I couldn’t even blame them; if the roles were reversed, I would probably be laughing too. My cheeks burned red with embarrassment, but frankly, I didn’t have the wherewithal to focus on anything but the ticklish sensations in my pits and feet. My fears were confirmed—everything tickled worse now that I had surrendered to the laughter. The jester twisted his feathers in circles, poking hard into the centers of my pits. Daniel kept at my feet with his own feathers, not giving me a second’s rest. It was amazing how thoroughly torturous it was; I had never imagined I was this ticklish, that I would be reduced to this much of mess just from a few light touches. It was humiliating having this weakness so publicly revealed, made even worse by how clearly my girlfriend was enjoying herself.
“Well, Jim?” She yelled up to me from her place at the foot of the stockades. “Feeling sorry yet?” She giggled. “I knew you were secretly a wimp. I wonder how long until you’re begging me to put on that costume.”
“Jeheheheus christ!” I gasped. “Ok! OK! I-HAHAHA! I’m sorry babe, I’m so-HAHAHA NO!” Daniel held the toes back on my right foot, threading the feather on their underside, back and forth without stopping. I tried to free my foot from his grip, but I was completely helpless. It fucking sucked. I could barely form a thought in my head—it felt like all my brain cells were being concentrated in my feet and pits, like my whole world began and ended at the tips of those feathers. I threw my head back and laughed hysterically, knowing full well that my screeching was two octaves higher than I normally spoke, but so completely wracked with ticklish hell that I could do nothing to stop it.
A renewed round of laughs came from the audience, my girlfriend chief among them.
“Tickle the criminal!” One yelled.
“That’s what bad boyfriends get!” One woman giggled.
“Don’t stop until he cries!. One particularly cruel man added.
“Young maiden.” Daniel waved for my girlfriend to approach the stage. “Why don’t you come up? It seems your boyfriend is ready to confess his sins.”
She looked thrilled. Lily bounded up the steps, giggling all the while. Daniel stretched out a hand to greet her, his other hand still occupied dragging a feather up and down the length of my sole. “Daniel. Royal tickler, and punisher of bad boyfriends everywhere.” Lily shook his hand, a pleasant smile on her face. I continued laughing as they exchanged pleasantries, unable to contain myself.
“Lily.” Replied. “Nice to meet you. Thank you ever so much for teaching my man a lesson.” She curtsied.
“My pleasure.” Daniel said with a grin. “He makes it easy, this one. I’m not even going all out; must be the most ticklish person I’ve ever had in these stocks.”
“Oh?” A look of mischievous excitement came across Lily’s face. “Hear that, baby? You’re the most ticklish man at the whooooole fair. Too bad for you.”
She was enjoying this way too much.
“So, this is your job, huh?” Lily asked, turning back to Daniel. “Punishing wrongdoers all day? Do you like it?” She looked at the young man with an admiration that made me cringe with jealously. He was torturing me, her boyfriend, nearly to bits. And yet, here she was, laughing at my discomfort, even complimenting the man who was dishing it out. It made me feel small and pathetic in a way I can hardly describe.
“Oh, can’t complain.” Daniel said nonchalantly, swishing the horrible feather over my exposed feet absentmindedly while he spoke. “Though of course, I much prefer to tickle a beautiful woman such as yourself.” He winked at her, and to my horror, Lily just blushed and laughed.
“No way.” She teased. “I could never stand it. I’m not as ticklish as him, of course.” She thumbed at me with a smirk. “But still, it seems like torture.”
“PLHEHEHEASE! SToHAHAHAP!” I managed to gasp out between blows of laughter. Lily and Daniel ignored me completely, as if I wasn’t even there. I heard the jester chuckle behind me as he continued the relentless assault on my pits.
“Oh yeah?” Daniel asked with a glint in his eye. He dropped one of his feathers, then pinched quickly along Lily’s ribs. Pinch pinch pinch. Lily giggled, playfully batting away his hand.
“Stop!” She said between fits of giggles. “I give, I give.”
“Ah, seems you’re right. You wouldn’t last a minute in these stocks. Best behave young lady, or you might find yourself in this unenviable position.” Daniel said with a wink. Lily smiled back at him, a look of…something in her eyes. Whatever it was, I did not like it.
“Hehehe-HEY! ASSHOLE! Don’t—HAHAHAHA—touch her!” I cried. I knew the second the words left my mouth that I sounded doubly pathetic now. How could I be taken seriously, laughing like a little girl, tied up and at the mercy of this man.
“Shh.” Daniel swiped his feather over my feet. “Quiet, prisoner. Or I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He spoke to me sternly, like a father scolding a child. It was absolutely humiliating being spoken to that way, but I have to admit that his threat sent a new wave of panic through me. What the fuck is happening to me? I thought. Am I really so pathetic? Is this all it takes for another man to flirt with my girlfriend, to touch her even? Just a little tickling? But as the feathers continued their dirty work, the answer became clear to all three of us.
“Uh oh, baby!” Lily said. “You’re going to get it now. Better do what he says.”
“HEHEHHELP ME!” I begged, the pathetic words escaping my mouth before I had a chance to stop them. Lily placed a finger to her chin, mocking contemplating my request.
“Hmmm.” She pondered. “No. I think you deserve this. Sit and think about what you did.”
“NOHAHAO!” I screamed. The jester’s feathers got even faster in their rape of my pits, as if trying to humiliate me as much as possible. I struggled, yanked on my restraints, bucked my hips—but the feathers just followed me, scritch scritch scratching away with their wicked, fluffy tips, an unrelenting assault on my senses that was quickly bringing me to the edge.
Lily’s attention quickly returned to Daniel. “Have you ever been…punished?” She giggled as she said it, like it was a naughty word she hard just learned.
“Of course not. I’m not ticklish at all.” Daniel replied with a hint of pride in his voice.
“Oh yeah?” Lily asked mischievously. “Just like my man ‘wasn’t ticklish’? She held up her fingers and wiggled them threateningly. “Maybe we should test it out? See if you’re telling me the truth?”
Daniel shrugged. “Be my guest.”
Lily’s eyes went wide, clearly not expecting to be called out on her bluff. But after a second of hesitation, she stepped forward, scrabbling her fingers across his ribs. True to his word, Daniel didn’t budge an inch. “See?” He said. “Not all men are as ticklish as your boyfriend, here.”
The words crushed me. It was bad enough being made to suffer this humiliation in front of my girlfriend, in front of a crowd of strangers. But the fact that my tormentor lacked my particular weakness somehow was even more unbearable. It was like he was superior to me in some way—like I had been revealed as a weakling, a grown man more ticklish than a little girl, while he was a real man, who would never be brought so low by something so trivial. I can’t explain why it injured my ego so much, but that one moment destroyed my spirit more than the rest combined.
“Impressive.” Lily said, and I could tell that she meant it. “I bet Jim here wishes he was more like you, Dan. Then maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“True, true.” He laughed. “But your technique is a little off. It should be more like this.” He slipped a finger into Lily’s exposed armpit, wiggling it around lightly. She burst into giggles, but, in an act that shattered me completely, didn’t pull away. Instead, she lifted her arm up, giving this stranger further access to her smooth armpits. He took the bait happily, wiggling all five fingers around in her hollows while she shrieked. The image of another man tickling my girlfriend, while she let’s him, enjoys it even, seemed to make my torment all the more humiliating. That should be me tickling her, flirting with her, but instead two men were making me their bitch in front of everyone.
“FUCKING STOP!” I yelled, finding some reserve of strength within me. Lily looked at me, shocked, and quickly lowered her arm. For a moment, I saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. It quickly faltered as I fell into a renewed bought of laughter, the tickling dance of feathers still running amok on my body. As quickly as it came, Lily’s guilt was replaced by sadistic amusement. I could practically read her mind in that moment: You can’t tell me what to do anymore. You’re helpless, baby. Just be a good little boy and get tickled. No way I would listen to such a pathetic, ticklish little man. Even if I wanted to reply, I couldn’t. The tickling was just too much for me.
This fucking jester doesn’t quit. I thought with horror. He’s feathers won’t stop; he’s going to tickle me until I pass out.
Daniel eyed me sternly. “Well, you asked for it, prisoner. If you won’t behave, we’ll have to resort to more drastic measures.” He turned to the audience. Lily’s eyes followed him, a look of awe on her face, no doubt enraptured by the authority of this superior, non-ticklish man. “Ladies and gentleman! I regret to inform you that the accused has failed to repent!” The audience booed and jeered, intermixed with laughter and taunts. I eyed the crowd; it had tripled in size since we started. Dozens of men and woman looked on, smiles on their faces. Apparently my screams had drawn people in from all over, as most in the vicinity were not solely focused on my suffering. I saw several people with their phones out, documenting my torture with a look of glee on their faces. My humiliation would be permanent now, no doubt posted far and wide on every corner of the internet.
“I ask now for volunteers from the audience!” He cried. “Step right up! Don’t be shy! Help to punish this bad boyfriend, who has so callously disregarded the wishes of his fair maiden!”
Please god no.
“I’ll do it!” A woman yelled.
“Please, join us.” Daniel beckoned her on stage.
My stomach sank as I heard footsteps ascending the stairs. The woman came into view—she was middle aged, perhaps mid-forties. She was dressed as a barmaid, and clearly had been drinking on the job. She swayed back and forth a little as she approached. “Wish I could teach my husband a lesson like this. But you’ll have to do instead.” She turned to Lily. “Always happy to help a woman in need. He’ll be nice and well behaved when I’m done with him.”
“Thank you.” Lily replied breathlessly. She seemed possessed by something, not the sweet girlfriend I once knew, but someone else entirely. She had this dazed smile on her face, as if intoxicated by the new found power she was wielding. “Make sure to get him good—he’s been very, very bad.”
Daniel offered the woman a feather, but she brushed him off, displaying her long nails, sharpened down to a point. “Please. If that’s making him beg, these will make him cry.” She got down on her knees, my feet right next to her face. She grinned up at me, baring her nails and hovering her fingers mere centimeters from my soles.
“Plehehease.” I begged, tears in the corner of my eyes. “Don’t.”
She only laughed. “It’s your fault. A boy this ticklish shouldn’t upset his girlfriend. How does—this feel?” She inquired, raking her nails over my feet.
“AAAHH!” I screeched, much to the delight of the onlookers, who hollered in support of my new torturer.
“I think he likes it!” She began scribbling her nails up and down my feet.
“NOOHHAHAHA!” It was utter hell, a thousand times worse than the feathers. Each nail set a wave of ticklish electricity throughout my body, threatening to totally break me. The scratched relentlessly across my soles, and unstoppable feeling of agony that made me wish for Daniel and his feathers.
“Cootchie cootshie coo, little boy! Aw, who’s a ticklish little baby?” The woman taunted. “A man would never be this ticklish. He’d never laugh from me scratch scratching his little toesies! I guess you’re just a ticklish little boy, huh? Say it, say: ‘I’m a ticklish little boy’, or I won’t stop.” She continued her assault, not letting up for a single second.
Broken as I was, I complied immediately, no shred of dignity left to prevent me from humiliating myself.
“I’M A TICKLISH LITTLE BOY!” I blurted out between gasps. “PLEHEHEASE STOP!”
But the woman only laughed. “What do you think, hon?” She asked Lily. “Has he had enough?”
I turned to Lily, pleading with my eyes. But what I saw there only scared me. Her face was contorted into disbelief, a half smile with no trace of sympathy. I knew in that moment that I had been destroyed in her eyes, my manhood totally gone.
“You’re begging just from some tickling?” She asked incredulously. “That’s pathetic, babe. Honestly, this is embarrassing.” She put a hand to her mouth to stop her from giggling. “I guess you really aren’t a man. Seems like you’re nothing but a ticklish little boy.” She turned her attention back to the woman. “Keep going, please. He deserves it for embarrassing me in front of all these people.”
The woman just smiled.
Her nails kept scratching, the feathers kept swirling, and I kept laughing. I started to disassociate, the torturous sensations fully overwhelming my senses. Even still, I could make out a conversation in my periphery.
“So,” Daniel asked casually,”Enjoying the fair so far? What have you seen?”
“Not much.” Lily admitted. “We came late because he got lost on the way. I’ve barely seen anything.”
“Well that won’t do.” Replied Daniel. “How about this: I’ll show you around. I work here after all, I know all the best spots. Jousting tourney, armor shop, herb garden. How about it?”
“I-I mean.” Lily glanced over in my direction. “What about him?” She had a look of slight disgust on her face, like I but mixed with something else. Arousal?
“He seems busy.” Daniel laughed. “My trusty jester here will keep him company. Isn’t that right?”
“Of course, miss.” The jester responded gruffly. “Jim here and I are best friends already, isn’t that right?” He twirled the feathers into my pits, as if demonstrating how good of friends we were.
“It’d be wrong to stop now, look how riled up the crowd is. They came for a show, Lily.” He continued.
“I suppose you’re right.” Lily didn’t even look at me anymore. “Ok then. Lead the way.”
“Great! Give me a second.” Daniel walked over to the stocks where I remained prisoner, thrashing and yelping under the fingernails and feathers. He picked up a feather and tucked it in his waist band, winking as he did so. He leaned in close, whispering in my ear.
“I think I’ll bring this along. I want to see where else your girlfriend is ticklish—her feet? Her stomach, her…well, you get the idea.” He patted me on the head. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it later.” With that he strode away, Lily hanging on his arm. As I watched them recede into the distance, so too did any chance of my escape. Tears began to role down my cheeks.
The jester spoke up behind me. “Tough break, kid. Not how you thought your day was gonna go, huh?” He chuckled. “Your beautiful young girlfriend, getting shown around town by the man who put you in your place. He gets a fun day with a pretty lady, While he takes her to the tunnel of love, you’re stuck here with me and my feathers, eh? Bad luck for you.” My body shuddered, and I could only helplessly giggle in response. He called out to the crowd. “Form a line! Two at a time please, two at a time! Everyone gets a turn with the ticklish boyfriend!”
I heard a clamor come from the crowd.
“I’m sure you saw it.” He continued. “The way she looked at you. Like you were less than a man. I’ve seen it happen before—nothing kills attraction like watching your big, strong boyfriend buckle under the weight of feathers and fingers. And nothing inspires it quite like being the man in charge. Don’t be surprised if there’s a few…changes in how she treats you from now on. Just do what she says, yeah? Make it easy on yourself. And just think of it this way—you deserve this. Not because you didn’t dress up, of course. But because you’re so ticklish and weak. Some men, like Dan and I, were born to be with pretty women. We can treat them right, protect them. Some men, like you, are only fit to feel soft little feathers dancing in your pits. Don’t worry—you’ll come to understand what I mean very soon.”
A moment later, two young women stepped up on the stage. They couldn’t have been more than twenty, two giggling college girls with sadism in their eyes. One held up her phone, clearly videotaping. The other stepped into the frame and smiled, posing for the camera.
“Right this way!” The jester proclaimed. As they approached, he handed them each a feather, the first time they had left my pits for even a second since I was locked in this damn thing. “Don’t be afraid, he doesn’t bite. Here, stand where I am.”
They took his place, and soon enough, the feathers resumed their slow, torturous swirling through my pits. As I bucked and screamed, the girls laughed.
“Smile for the camera, wimp!” One jeered.
“He is sooo pathetically ticklish. I can’t believe he even has a girlfriend.” The other said.
“I know. I’d break up with my boyfriend on the spot if he was this ticklish.” She giggled. “I understand why she went off with that other guy. I bet she’s having a great time with a real man.”
The jester walked in front of me, admiring his handy work. To my absolute horror, a line of about a dozen people had formed by the edge of the stage.
“I don’t envy you, young man.” The jester said with a grin. “But I think this will be good for you, actually. It’ll show you your place in the world.”
Two more people walked onto the stage, a man and a woman. The man had his arm around her waist, clearly another example of a superior man, here to show my own inadequacy. The jester handed them a feather duster and a brush, which they accepted gratefully. As they approached me with implements raised, I could think only of my girlfriend, her body being explored by Dan while I was trapped here, suffering.
And to just as he predicted, I started to believe the jester’s words: I did deserve this.
“Here ye, here ye!” The jester bellowed to the crowd of onlookers. “Today we shall be punishing—what’s your name?”
“Jim.” I respond with a nervous smile.
“We shall be punishing Jim, for the grave crime of being a BAD BOYFRIEND! Booooo!” He waved his hands, indicating for the crowd to follow suit. They playfully joined along, booing me and laughing. My girlfriend laughed with them, savoring the image of me locked in the stocks. She snapped a quick photo on her phone.
“Smile, babe.” She giggled. “I told you there’d be a punishment if you didn’t dress up for the renfair. You deserve this.” She stuck her tongue out as I rolled my eyes. It was true that she put a lot more effort into it than I did. She was dressed in a long, white sundress painstakingly adorned with vines and blue flowers, with full green sparkling makeup tuning down her face and arms. A forest druid or something, I guess. I opted for a tank top, jean shorts, and sneakers. The renfair just wasn’t really my thing, but a promise was a promise. So I’d play along for a bit, and take my “punishment”. Better that then start an argument about it—I had reneged on my promise to buy a squire outfit, after all.
“Prepare to be disappointed.” I replied. “I’m not even ticklish.”
“That’s what they all say.” Said the jester. “The punishment shall commence! The bad boyfriend shall be tickled mercilessly until he has learned his lesson!” He walked out of my sight line. The small group of onlookers cheered. It was a mixed crowd of men and women, young and old. A few, like me, were in normal street wear, but the majority were decked out in some costume or another. They smiled with anticipation, all enjoying the absurdity of some medieval tickle-torture. After a moment, I heard his voice coming from right behind me, making me jump a little. “Daniel, if you would prepare his feet. I’ve got the armpits this time.”
“Sure thing.” The younger man said. He lifted the heel of my right shoe, then the left. As his fingers hooked into my socks and began to pull them away, I began to feel uneasy.
“Woah.” I said. “The socks too? Can’t those stay on?” I felt ridiculous asking instead of, well, demanding. They were my feet, after all. But somehow, I felt like I was very much not in control of this situation.
“Nope.” The younger man said confidently. “Don’t worry, criminal. You’re not ticklish, remember?” He winked at me. I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could—
—I felt a completely unbearable sensation invade my armpits. It was a light scratching, feather soft little bristles making their way into my pit hollows. I craned my head to look at the source of the intrusion—two ostrich feathers, welded by the jester. “Coochie, coochie.” The older man said. “Mr. not ticklish. I wonder how long that will last with my feathers in your pits.”
“Uhuhuhaha.” I tried to stifle a giggle, my body attempting to jerk away out of pure reflex. I heard some chuckles arise from the audience. The sensation was totally alien to me. I hadn’t been tickled since I was a kid, and never like this before, never bound in front of a group of people. It was kind of a torturous feeling, actually. My natural reaction was to bring my arms down and protect myself, but the bonds at my wrists held firm. The jester kept stroking them up and down my pits, a consistent rhythm of those soft yet firm tips dragging around the center of my underarms. “Hehe-hey!” I squirmed in the stocks, but I could barely budge an inch. It was an interesting sensation, the strong desire to make the light, feathery touches stop, but with no clear way to accomplish my goal. I started to panic a little. I locked eyes with my girlfriend, who was now grinning from ear to ear. She had her phone out, now presumably taking a video. She shot me a thumbs up, giggling with glee at my predicament. Somehow, the mix of panic combined with the very public nature of my torture was beginning to increase my sensitivity. It felt like the more I struggled, the harder it was to contain my laughter. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, desperately keeping it in. Do not laugh. I told myself. Do not laugh in front of all these people. I could tell that once the laughter started, I wouldn’t be able to contain it. If I could just last three, maybe four minutes—five tops, they would give up and let me go, right? You aren’t ticklish, you aren’t—
My internal monologue was interrupted by the introduction two more feathers scraping across my bare soles.
“BAHAHAHAHA!” The laughter came pouring out of me in a flood of ticklishness. These feathers were softer, fluffier, and they ran up and down the length of my feet with devilish speed, across the heel, ball, threading in between toes, moving constantly across my wiggling feet. “EHEHEHHE!” I screeched, a high pitch whine that didn’t even sound like it could be produced by a man. The young man smirked as he continued his torture of my feet.
“Well, well, well. That didn’t last very long.” He turned towards the audience. “Looks like the bad boyfriend is a little ticklish, huh folks?”
A cheer went up from the crowd. They laughed and clapped, egging my tormenters on for their amusement. I imagined how it must have looked—a grown man, shrieking like a little girl just from a little tickling. I couldn’t even blame them; if the roles were reversed, I would probably be laughing too. My cheeks burned red with embarrassment, but frankly, I didn’t have the wherewithal to focus on anything but the ticklish sensations in my pits and feet. My fears were confirmed—everything tickled worse now that I had surrendered to the laughter. The jester twisted his feathers in circles, poking hard into the centers of my pits. Daniel kept at my feet with his own feathers, not giving me a second’s rest. It was amazing how thoroughly torturous it was; I had never imagined I was this ticklish, that I would be reduced to this much of mess just from a few light touches. It was humiliating having this weakness so publicly revealed, made even worse by how clearly my girlfriend was enjoying herself.
“Well, Jim?” She yelled up to me from her place at the foot of the stockades. “Feeling sorry yet?” She giggled. “I knew you were secretly a wimp. I wonder how long until you’re begging me to put on that costume.”
“Jeheheheus christ!” I gasped. “Ok! OK! I-HAHAHA! I’m sorry babe, I’m so-HAHAHA NO!” Daniel held the toes back on my right foot, threading the feather on their underside, back and forth without stopping. I tried to free my foot from his grip, but I was completely helpless. It fucking sucked. I could barely form a thought in my head—it felt like all my brain cells were being concentrated in my feet and pits, like my whole world began and ended at the tips of those feathers. I threw my head back and laughed hysterically, knowing full well that my screeching was two octaves higher than I normally spoke, but so completely wracked with ticklish hell that I could do nothing to stop it.
A renewed round of laughs came from the audience, my girlfriend chief among them.
“Tickle the criminal!” One yelled.
“That’s what bad boyfriends get!” One woman giggled.
“Don’t stop until he cries!. One particularly cruel man added.
“Young maiden.” Daniel waved for my girlfriend to approach the stage. “Why don’t you come up? It seems your boyfriend is ready to confess his sins.”
She looked thrilled. Lily bounded up the steps, giggling all the while. Daniel stretched out a hand to greet her, his other hand still occupied dragging a feather up and down the length of my sole. “Daniel. Royal tickler, and punisher of bad boyfriends everywhere.” Lily shook his hand, a pleasant smile on her face. I continued laughing as they exchanged pleasantries, unable to contain myself.
“Lily.” Replied. “Nice to meet you. Thank you ever so much for teaching my man a lesson.” She curtsied.
“My pleasure.” Daniel said with a grin. “He makes it easy, this one. I’m not even going all out; must be the most ticklish person I’ve ever had in these stocks.”
“Oh?” A look of mischievous excitement came across Lily’s face. “Hear that, baby? You’re the most ticklish man at the whooooole fair. Too bad for you.”
She was enjoying this way too much.
“So, this is your job, huh?” Lily asked, turning back to Daniel. “Punishing wrongdoers all day? Do you like it?” She looked at the young man with an admiration that made me cringe with jealously. He was torturing me, her boyfriend, nearly to bits. And yet, here she was, laughing at my discomfort, even complimenting the man who was dishing it out. It made me feel small and pathetic in a way I can hardly describe.
“Oh, can’t complain.” Daniel said nonchalantly, swishing the horrible feather over my exposed feet absentmindedly while he spoke. “Though of course, I much prefer to tickle a beautiful woman such as yourself.” He winked at her, and to my horror, Lily just blushed and laughed.
“No way.” She teased. “I could never stand it. I’m not as ticklish as him, of course.” She thumbed at me with a smirk. “But still, it seems like torture.”
“PLHEHEHEASE! SToHAHAHAP!” I managed to gasp out between blows of laughter. Lily and Daniel ignored me completely, as if I wasn’t even there. I heard the jester chuckle behind me as he continued the relentless assault on my pits.
“Oh yeah?” Daniel asked with a glint in his eye. He dropped one of his feathers, then pinched quickly along Lily’s ribs. Pinch pinch pinch. Lily giggled, playfully batting away his hand.
“Stop!” She said between fits of giggles. “I give, I give.”
“Ah, seems you’re right. You wouldn’t last a minute in these stocks. Best behave young lady, or you might find yourself in this unenviable position.” Daniel said with a wink. Lily smiled back at him, a look of…something in her eyes. Whatever it was, I did not like it.
“Hehehe-HEY! ASSHOLE! Don’t—HAHAHAHA—touch her!” I cried. I knew the second the words left my mouth that I sounded doubly pathetic now. How could I be taken seriously, laughing like a little girl, tied up and at the mercy of this man.
“Shh.” Daniel swiped his feather over my feet. “Quiet, prisoner. Or I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He spoke to me sternly, like a father scolding a child. It was absolutely humiliating being spoken to that way, but I have to admit that his threat sent a new wave of panic through me. What the fuck is happening to me? I thought. Am I really so pathetic? Is this all it takes for another man to flirt with my girlfriend, to touch her even? Just a little tickling? But as the feathers continued their dirty work, the answer became clear to all three of us.
“Uh oh, baby!” Lily said. “You’re going to get it now. Better do what he says.”
“HEHEHHELP ME!” I begged, the pathetic words escaping my mouth before I had a chance to stop them. Lily placed a finger to her chin, mocking contemplating my request.
“Hmmm.” She pondered. “No. I think you deserve this. Sit and think about what you did.”
“NOHAHAO!” I screamed. The jester’s feathers got even faster in their rape of my pits, as if trying to humiliate me as much as possible. I struggled, yanked on my restraints, bucked my hips—but the feathers just followed me, scritch scritch scratching away with their wicked, fluffy tips, an unrelenting assault on my senses that was quickly bringing me to the edge.
Lily’s attention quickly returned to Daniel. “Have you ever been…punished?” She giggled as she said it, like it was a naughty word she hard just learned.
“Of course not. I’m not ticklish at all.” Daniel replied with a hint of pride in his voice.
“Oh yeah?” Lily asked mischievously. “Just like my man ‘wasn’t ticklish’? She held up her fingers and wiggled them threateningly. “Maybe we should test it out? See if you’re telling me the truth?”
Daniel shrugged. “Be my guest.”
Lily’s eyes went wide, clearly not expecting to be called out on her bluff. But after a second of hesitation, she stepped forward, scrabbling her fingers across his ribs. True to his word, Daniel didn’t budge an inch. “See?” He said. “Not all men are as ticklish as your boyfriend, here.”
The words crushed me. It was bad enough being made to suffer this humiliation in front of my girlfriend, in front of a crowd of strangers. But the fact that my tormentor lacked my particular weakness somehow was even more unbearable. It was like he was superior to me in some way—like I had been revealed as a weakling, a grown man more ticklish than a little girl, while he was a real man, who would never be brought so low by something so trivial. I can’t explain why it injured my ego so much, but that one moment destroyed my spirit more than the rest combined.
“Impressive.” Lily said, and I could tell that she meant it. “I bet Jim here wishes he was more like you, Dan. Then maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“True, true.” He laughed. “But your technique is a little off. It should be more like this.” He slipped a finger into Lily’s exposed armpit, wiggling it around lightly. She burst into giggles, but, in an act that shattered me completely, didn’t pull away. Instead, she lifted her arm up, giving this stranger further access to her smooth armpits. He took the bait happily, wiggling all five fingers around in her hollows while she shrieked. The image of another man tickling my girlfriend, while she let’s him, enjoys it even, seemed to make my torment all the more humiliating. That should be me tickling her, flirting with her, but instead two men were making me their bitch in front of everyone.
“FUCKING STOP!” I yelled, finding some reserve of strength within me. Lily looked at me, shocked, and quickly lowered her arm. For a moment, I saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. It quickly faltered as I fell into a renewed bought of laughter, the tickling dance of feathers still running amok on my body. As quickly as it came, Lily’s guilt was replaced by sadistic amusement. I could practically read her mind in that moment: You can’t tell me what to do anymore. You’re helpless, baby. Just be a good little boy and get tickled. No way I would listen to such a pathetic, ticklish little man. Even if I wanted to reply, I couldn’t. The tickling was just too much for me.
This fucking jester doesn’t quit. I thought with horror. He’s feathers won’t stop; he’s going to tickle me until I pass out.
Daniel eyed me sternly. “Well, you asked for it, prisoner. If you won’t behave, we’ll have to resort to more drastic measures.” He turned to the audience. Lily’s eyes followed him, a look of awe on her face, no doubt enraptured by the authority of this superior, non-ticklish man. “Ladies and gentleman! I regret to inform you that the accused has failed to repent!” The audience booed and jeered, intermixed with laughter and taunts. I eyed the crowd; it had tripled in size since we started. Dozens of men and woman looked on, smiles on their faces. Apparently my screams had drawn people in from all over, as most in the vicinity were not solely focused on my suffering. I saw several people with their phones out, documenting my torture with a look of glee on their faces. My humiliation would be permanent now, no doubt posted far and wide on every corner of the internet.
“I ask now for volunteers from the audience!” He cried. “Step right up! Don’t be shy! Help to punish this bad boyfriend, who has so callously disregarded the wishes of his fair maiden!”
Please god no.
“I’ll do it!” A woman yelled.
“Please, join us.” Daniel beckoned her on stage.
My stomach sank as I heard footsteps ascending the stairs. The woman came into view—she was middle aged, perhaps mid-forties. She was dressed as a barmaid, and clearly had been drinking on the job. She swayed back and forth a little as she approached. “Wish I could teach my husband a lesson like this. But you’ll have to do instead.” She turned to Lily. “Always happy to help a woman in need. He’ll be nice and well behaved when I’m done with him.”
“Thank you.” Lily replied breathlessly. She seemed possessed by something, not the sweet girlfriend I once knew, but someone else entirely. She had this dazed smile on her face, as if intoxicated by the new found power she was wielding. “Make sure to get him good—he’s been very, very bad.”
Daniel offered the woman a feather, but she brushed him off, displaying her long nails, sharpened down to a point. “Please. If that’s making him beg, these will make him cry.” She got down on her knees, my feet right next to her face. She grinned up at me, baring her nails and hovering her fingers mere centimeters from my soles.
“Plehehease.” I begged, tears in the corner of my eyes. “Don’t.”
She only laughed. “It’s your fault. A boy this ticklish shouldn’t upset his girlfriend. How does—this feel?” She inquired, raking her nails over my feet.
“AAAHH!” I screeched, much to the delight of the onlookers, who hollered in support of my new torturer.
“I think he likes it!” She began scribbling her nails up and down my feet.
“NOOHHAHAHA!” It was utter hell, a thousand times worse than the feathers. Each nail set a wave of ticklish electricity throughout my body, threatening to totally break me. The scratched relentlessly across my soles, and unstoppable feeling of agony that made me wish for Daniel and his feathers.
“Cootchie cootshie coo, little boy! Aw, who’s a ticklish little baby?” The woman taunted. “A man would never be this ticklish. He’d never laugh from me scratch scratching his little toesies! I guess you’re just a ticklish little boy, huh? Say it, say: ‘I’m a ticklish little boy’, or I won’t stop.” She continued her assault, not letting up for a single second.
Broken as I was, I complied immediately, no shred of dignity left to prevent me from humiliating myself.
“I’M A TICKLISH LITTLE BOY!” I blurted out between gasps. “PLEHEHEASE STOP!”
But the woman only laughed. “What do you think, hon?” She asked Lily. “Has he had enough?”
I turned to Lily, pleading with my eyes. But what I saw there only scared me. Her face was contorted into disbelief, a half smile with no trace of sympathy. I knew in that moment that I had been destroyed in her eyes, my manhood totally gone.
“You’re begging just from some tickling?” She asked incredulously. “That’s pathetic, babe. Honestly, this is embarrassing.” She put a hand to her mouth to stop her from giggling. “I guess you really aren’t a man. Seems like you’re nothing but a ticklish little boy.” She turned her attention back to the woman. “Keep going, please. He deserves it for embarrassing me in front of all these people.”
The woman just smiled.
Her nails kept scratching, the feathers kept swirling, and I kept laughing. I started to disassociate, the torturous sensations fully overwhelming my senses. Even still, I could make out a conversation in my periphery.
“So,” Daniel asked casually,”Enjoying the fair so far? What have you seen?”
“Not much.” Lily admitted. “We came late because he got lost on the way. I’ve barely seen anything.”
“Well that won’t do.” Replied Daniel. “How about this: I’ll show you around. I work here after all, I know all the best spots. Jousting tourney, armor shop, herb garden. How about it?”
“I-I mean.” Lily glanced over in my direction. “What about him?” She had a look of slight disgust on her face, like I but mixed with something else. Arousal?
“He seems busy.” Daniel laughed. “My trusty jester here will keep him company. Isn’t that right?”
“Of course, miss.” The jester responded gruffly. “Jim here and I are best friends already, isn’t that right?” He twirled the feathers into my pits, as if demonstrating how good of friends we were.
“It’d be wrong to stop now, look how riled up the crowd is. They came for a show, Lily.” He continued.
“I suppose you’re right.” Lily didn’t even look at me anymore. “Ok then. Lead the way.”
“Great! Give me a second.” Daniel walked over to the stocks where I remained prisoner, thrashing and yelping under the fingernails and feathers. He picked up a feather and tucked it in his waist band, winking as he did so. He leaned in close, whispering in my ear.
“I think I’ll bring this along. I want to see where else your girlfriend is ticklish—her feet? Her stomach, her…well, you get the idea.” He patted me on the head. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it later.” With that he strode away, Lily hanging on his arm. As I watched them recede into the distance, so too did any chance of my escape. Tears began to role down my cheeks.
The jester spoke up behind me. “Tough break, kid. Not how you thought your day was gonna go, huh?” He chuckled. “Your beautiful young girlfriend, getting shown around town by the man who put you in your place. He gets a fun day with a pretty lady, While he takes her to the tunnel of love, you’re stuck here with me and my feathers, eh? Bad luck for you.” My body shuddered, and I could only helplessly giggle in response. He called out to the crowd. “Form a line! Two at a time please, two at a time! Everyone gets a turn with the ticklish boyfriend!”
I heard a clamor come from the crowd.
“I’m sure you saw it.” He continued. “The way she looked at you. Like you were less than a man. I’ve seen it happen before—nothing kills attraction like watching your big, strong boyfriend buckle under the weight of feathers and fingers. And nothing inspires it quite like being the man in charge. Don’t be surprised if there’s a few…changes in how she treats you from now on. Just do what she says, yeah? Make it easy on yourself. And just think of it this way—you deserve this. Not because you didn’t dress up, of course. But because you’re so ticklish and weak. Some men, like Dan and I, were born to be with pretty women. We can treat them right, protect them. Some men, like you, are only fit to feel soft little feathers dancing in your pits. Don’t worry—you’ll come to understand what I mean very soon.”
A moment later, two young women stepped up on the stage. They couldn’t have been more than twenty, two giggling college girls with sadism in their eyes. One held up her phone, clearly videotaping. The other stepped into the frame and smiled, posing for the camera.
“Right this way!” The jester proclaimed. As they approached, he handed them each a feather, the first time they had left my pits for even a second since I was locked in this damn thing. “Don’t be afraid, he doesn’t bite. Here, stand where I am.”
They took his place, and soon enough, the feathers resumed their slow, torturous swirling through my pits. As I bucked and screamed, the girls laughed.
“Smile for the camera, wimp!” One jeered.
“He is sooo pathetically ticklish. I can’t believe he even has a girlfriend.” The other said.
“I know. I’d break up with my boyfriend on the spot if he was this ticklish.” She giggled. “I understand why she went off with that other guy. I bet she’s having a great time with a real man.”
The jester walked in front of me, admiring his handy work. To my absolute horror, a line of about a dozen people had formed by the edge of the stage.
“I don’t envy you, young man.” The jester said with a grin. “But I think this will be good for you, actually. It’ll show you your place in the world.”
Two more people walked onto the stage, a man and a woman. The man had his arm around her waist, clearly another example of a superior man, here to show my own inadequacy. The jester handed them a feather duster and a brush, which they accepted gratefully. As they approached me with implements raised, I could think only of my girlfriend, her body being explored by Dan while I was trapped here, suffering.
And to just as he predicted, I started to believe the jester’s words: I did deserve this.
