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Just to clarify this follows on from the non-tickling story where I introduced Duncan: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?271285-Preview-Introducing-Duncan
I'm trying to write shorter stories so there will be several detailing the castle tickling event (CTE1) from his perspective for both the morning and afternoon
- - - - - - - -
The fortnight leading up to the event at the castle dragged slowly for Duncan. As news of his serendipitous find of a rare first edition book in charity shop spread he heard the same things from his friend and family;
“That was lucky!....”
“Glad things have taken a turn for the better…”
“You must be excited!...”
Duncan grew frustrated with their questions and advice ¬and longed for his weekend at the castle. Foolishly he declared his earnings and had his income from the jobcentre reduced accordingly. Normally he would have been embittered by this but instead focused on investing the remaining money from the book’s sale. He continued to apply for jobs but was met with the same disappointing response. His anger was diverted by thoughts of the joys to come and consideration of his costume. He was tempted to wear the home-made clockwork orange costume he had worn to Halloween party at University. He wanted a mask to go with it and was tempted to buy a Guy Fawkes one with the smirk from that film, what was it called…. ‘V is for Vendetta’…
Eventually he settled on a black fabric home-made bandit style mask covering the upper part of his face with two eyeholes and tied behind his head, this side-stepped the need for that fiddly eye make-up. The night before the event when his parents were out he admired himself in the mirror, the costume looked good. Duncan was tall and slim but lacked confidence most of the time, he could never bring himself to talk to women he fancied and on the rare occasion he managed to overcome his nerves he stuttered and spoke too quickly. At a Halloween party at University he had worn this costume and got nicely drunk; that special drunk where he was in control and coherent but free of his inhibitions. He tickled a female friend’s foot that night, she had been wearing black nylons and stretched them out over her friend’s lap. Her friend wore a similar generic Betty Paige style costume and held her legs down as he tickled. She desperately giggled and squirmed and flailed at her friend who rewarded her with a few rib and tummy tickles. All too soon the fun was over and Duncan found himself outside the circle of social interaction once again, quietly admiring the gorgeous costumes of his fellow students.
That memory had kept him going through the dismal disappointing days after finishing university. The costume had lurked in a plastic bag under his bed, it comprised a pair of white tight trousers, a white shirt and a black codpiece built around a belt and traveller’s pack. At the party an American student had called it a ‘Fanny Pack’ to much hilarity, although it was agreed that the British ‘Bum bag’ was not much better. He had black boots from an army surplus store and a black bowler hat. He was really proud of the cufflinks; he had used ping-pong balls and drawn eyeballs on them like in the film, out of personal preference he had attached a few feathers from the selection he picked up to hide in the secret hope of meeting a woman willing to be tickled.
Duncan packed the costume with his other things for the event and got an early night, he planned an early bus and walk to get to the castle the next day. It was still dark when he awoke, he had told his parents he was going camping with some friend’s from university and wouldn’t be back until late on Sunday. He had read through the details of the event carefully and selected to hire a tent. It was cool in the false dawn as he snuck out with a rucksack and sleeping bag. He wore his jeans and a coat parts over his costume, the rest of which he planned to attach upon arrival. During the bus trip Duncan got warm and took off his coat, kicking off his jeans also. He awkwardly avoided the other early birds some of whom he was sure must be heading the same way as him. He got off the stop nearest to the castle and walked the rest of the way. As he walked up the hill he had to tuck in a few times to let cars pass him. The cars pulled in to a muddy field guided by people in high-vis jackets, the drivers and passengers joined the procession. As he neared the castle he noticed a greater number of attendees wearing costumes. There was even a Stormtrooper wearing shiny white armour glimmering in the early sun. Duncan was intrigued by a young Goth-girl with long straight black hair, not only was she extremely attractive but she moved in a very peculiar way, as if she was hiding.
“You go girl!” She declared unexpectedly earning a quizzical look from her admirer.
Duncan entered the gatehouse and queued up to validate his ticket. As he waited his anticipation of the delights to come merged with those around him such that there was almost a tangible electricity in the air. He approached the front of the queue and accepted a Blue Feather necklace and headed to the changing room to make the final adjustments to his costume and store his bag and phone in a locker.
Duncan was keen to get to the stocks flanking the entrance to the courtyard. He had spied two sets of stocks like the ones he wanted to tickle torture his advisor from jobcentre in. In the single set a gagged athletic girl was bent forwards, her ankles, wrists and head held in line. She really seemed to be suffering but the crowd didn’t seem to care, and Duncan relished the chance to add to her torment. The two women in the double stocks opposite were also getting it from the crowd but didn’t seem to be objecting quite as vehemently. One was a brunette with shoulder length hair becoming less and less neat as she struggled. Like the timid giggling Goth next to her she seemed to be enjoying the tickle torture giving her tormentors discrete submissive looks with red cheeks and twinkling eyes. Duncan queued up like he had at the beach until a woman in a Dominatrix costume with Egyptian style eye make-up beckoned him forwards to the athletic girl in the single stocks. Duncan was slightly apprehensive as the struggling slave girl made a muffled desperate plea into her ball-gag. His concern was amplified by both the helpless look in her eyes and the way her fingers grasped at nothing from within the spiky bracelets that prevented her escaping.
“You sure she’s okay with this?” He whispered to the Dominatrix.
“Of course, she told me she wanted to be tickle torture mercilessly for hours!... It’s her fantasy!” Cleo whispered discretely in reply.
Duncan knelt at the stocks amongst the other ticklers and found a spot on her left arch that wasn’t already being tormented. It was the first time he had felt the soft flesh of a woman’s foot since that Halloween party. There was something indescribable about actually touching a woman’s feet instead of watching a video of them being tickled, he relished the moist warm flesh as it twitched and tingled under his caress. Duncan began to regret his costume slightly as his tight white trousers uncomfortably tightened under the home-made codpiece. Her torture was so extreme that it was impossible for Duncan to fathom what impact his touches were having, never-the-less the poor girl was going insane. Her muffled screams and the rattling of the stocks only attracted more ticklers who explored her upper body, legs and every soft patch of skin her slave costume didn’t cover.
Eventually Duncan grew tired of being jostled and nudged and departed from the crowd, turning to investigate the pair on display in the double punishment stocks. He began at the rosy-cheeked brunette’s soles; sharing them with only a few other patrons, two of whom used feathers between her toes whilst another used their fingers on the taut arches. The shy victim had reached the silent laughter stage of torture, never-the-less Duncan was pleased with the manner in which her silent struggles responded to his efforts. With the athletic victim there had been so many other ticklers his administrations had been lost in a sea of torturous sensations. Now he could vary his touch between fingertips and nails and be rewarded by a shift from hoarse silent laughter to helpless gasps for air punctuated with a deep desperate inhalation of air.
Duncan could not resist sliding over to explore the soles of the sumptuous Goth-girl next door in the stocks. He was glad he did, not only were her soft pale feet a goldmine but reluctantly withdrawn shortly after he caressed their smooth arches and delightful toes. Like the brunette the grinning Goth-girl seemed to love the sensations but began to complain of a bad-back, the stocks opened on a hinge freeing both victims.
“My back feels fine!” The brunette slave teased, wiggling her toes.
Duncan was amazed, something about the brunette gave the impression she was a well-behaved academic sort but her smile and mannerisms betrayed an intense passion for tickle torture. In the Goth’s place a struggling woman in her mid-thirties was reluctantly trapped. Duncan felt sorry for her briefly, however the event organiser’s seemed to know her name and she had a yellow feather necklace which meant she had agreed to be someone’s slave.
Duncan had enjoyed the soft tickles he had so far administered, thrilled by her greatest fantasy coming to life. Now the allure of a more sadistic game called to him like a siren’s call. He shifted over to the Mousy Blonde’s soles as her toes were tied back, she was clearly struggling and terrified of the torture to come. She had good feet, she was obviously a bit older than the other women he had tickled so far but it had yet to show. Duncan softly ran a finger from heel to arch and was delighted by the helpless giggle that replaced the furious indignation of the struggling woman bent double. Duncan opened the small pouch his codpiece was built around and slipped on three of the rubber page turners.
“NOOO!!! STOOO-OOOP!” His victim begged as several other ticklers settled in.
Duncan smiled knowing it was him and his ‘little toys’ that had broken her. Her torment did not cease and her cries for mercy only attracted more sadistic ticklers, until the gates were opened. The crowd around the three women in the punishment stocks thinned and Duncan took the opportunity to return to the athletic slave girl’s feet. She was still struggling frantically causing the stocks to rattle. Delighted by a larger share of her soles Duncan put the rubber page turners to good use. He had grown his nails long especially for the event and carefully cut small holes for the sharp keratin to protrude from the evil textured caps. To his satisfaction the other ticklers moved aside to let him torment her deep arches with the infuriating accessories. Remembering his other toys he produced an electric toothbrush and began to use it the suffering girl’s toes.
“Can I have a go with that?.... or with those things on your fingertips?” Asked a pretty woman in a red dress.
“Be my pick!... I mean… Take your guest!...” Duncan stumbled, forever getting tongue tied in situations like this.
She chuckled in response, not sarcastically but cheerfully and smiled a wonderful smile at Duncan, replying;
“Call me Diane!... I will try some of those things first!” The high cheek-boned woman pointed at the page turners as she spoke.
Duncan was calmed by her response, her face lit up when she smiled and she had the most delightful brown hair, neither dark nor light but embodying the beauty of both in the sunlight as it hung to her shoulders. She took the page turners from Duncan’s left hand which he used to hold his toothbrush, another patron grew bored and discarded and electric flosser provided by the show’s organisers. He was quickly replaced by another newcomer but the device was quickly snatched up by the devious woman.
“I think these work better!....” She beamed, wiggling the page turners.
Duncan smiled and tried to think of something clever to say, nothing was forthcoming.
“…But I have always wanted to try one of these!” She added briefly gesturing with the flosser before returning it to a sensitive spot between two of their victim’s toes.
“..Thanks!” Duncan replied, too late for her first comment.
“Where did you get the idea for these from?....” She asked, tilting her head and smiling her feline smile.
The already nervous Duncan froze, he didn’t want to admit he once saw a video of a woman being tickled with such items. It was strange; he was tickling a perfect stranger, talking to a perfect stranger who clearly liked to tickle women as much as him and yet he still felt embarrassed by his fetish.
“… I don’t think I have ever seen a video where these were used?” Diane lied, her voice soothing and inviting.
This broke the ice and Duncan opened up, chatting about different tickling videos he liked as well as scenarios and restraint methods. It was a great release to be able to talk to someone about tickling, it had always been his own personal private thing and yet it felt good to interact. While they chatted the athletic slave suffered until both took their leave having seen far too many beautiful women walk by to stay at the same set of soles. More patrons took their place and as they walked away Diane asked;
“Do you think we were too mean?”
“No… I heard it is her fantasy to be tickled as brutally as possible without any mercy or breaks…” Duncan replied.
“Wow! Hardcore!” Diane chirped, in truth she had enjoyed tickling the helpless girl and didn’t care if it was her fantasy or not.
“Yeah can’t wait to see what they do to her next!” Duncan added, accompanying the sultry minx from the gatehouse into the courtyard.
Diane smiled, pleased with this response; she had found another true sadist like herself, an accomplice for all the cruel games and devious tricks she intended to play. Meanwhile Duncan’s mind raced with the possibilities, he felt more alive than he had in months. The expectation filled him with the same joy he felt during his first year of University when the world was new and ready to be explored as opposed to the dark miserable place it had become. The day was just beginning, the sun was shining and the delicious sounds of laughter filled the castle grounds enticing an inviting the pair to a day of exciting sadistic fun.
I'm trying to write shorter stories so there will be several detailing the castle tickling event (CTE1) from his perspective for both the morning and afternoon
- - - - - - - -
The fortnight leading up to the event at the castle dragged slowly for Duncan. As news of his serendipitous find of a rare first edition book in charity shop spread he heard the same things from his friend and family;
“That was lucky!....”
“Glad things have taken a turn for the better…”
“You must be excited!...”
Duncan grew frustrated with their questions and advice ¬and longed for his weekend at the castle. Foolishly he declared his earnings and had his income from the jobcentre reduced accordingly. Normally he would have been embittered by this but instead focused on investing the remaining money from the book’s sale. He continued to apply for jobs but was met with the same disappointing response. His anger was diverted by thoughts of the joys to come and consideration of his costume. He was tempted to wear the home-made clockwork orange costume he had worn to Halloween party at University. He wanted a mask to go with it and was tempted to buy a Guy Fawkes one with the smirk from that film, what was it called…. ‘V is for Vendetta’…
Eventually he settled on a black fabric home-made bandit style mask covering the upper part of his face with two eyeholes and tied behind his head, this side-stepped the need for that fiddly eye make-up. The night before the event when his parents were out he admired himself in the mirror, the costume looked good. Duncan was tall and slim but lacked confidence most of the time, he could never bring himself to talk to women he fancied and on the rare occasion he managed to overcome his nerves he stuttered and spoke too quickly. At a Halloween party at University he had worn this costume and got nicely drunk; that special drunk where he was in control and coherent but free of his inhibitions. He tickled a female friend’s foot that night, she had been wearing black nylons and stretched them out over her friend’s lap. Her friend wore a similar generic Betty Paige style costume and held her legs down as he tickled. She desperately giggled and squirmed and flailed at her friend who rewarded her with a few rib and tummy tickles. All too soon the fun was over and Duncan found himself outside the circle of social interaction once again, quietly admiring the gorgeous costumes of his fellow students.
That memory had kept him going through the dismal disappointing days after finishing university. The costume had lurked in a plastic bag under his bed, it comprised a pair of white tight trousers, a white shirt and a black codpiece built around a belt and traveller’s pack. At the party an American student had called it a ‘Fanny Pack’ to much hilarity, although it was agreed that the British ‘Bum bag’ was not much better. He had black boots from an army surplus store and a black bowler hat. He was really proud of the cufflinks; he had used ping-pong balls and drawn eyeballs on them like in the film, out of personal preference he had attached a few feathers from the selection he picked up to hide in the secret hope of meeting a woman willing to be tickled.
Duncan packed the costume with his other things for the event and got an early night, he planned an early bus and walk to get to the castle the next day. It was still dark when he awoke, he had told his parents he was going camping with some friend’s from university and wouldn’t be back until late on Sunday. He had read through the details of the event carefully and selected to hire a tent. It was cool in the false dawn as he snuck out with a rucksack and sleeping bag. He wore his jeans and a coat parts over his costume, the rest of which he planned to attach upon arrival. During the bus trip Duncan got warm and took off his coat, kicking off his jeans also. He awkwardly avoided the other early birds some of whom he was sure must be heading the same way as him. He got off the stop nearest to the castle and walked the rest of the way. As he walked up the hill he had to tuck in a few times to let cars pass him. The cars pulled in to a muddy field guided by people in high-vis jackets, the drivers and passengers joined the procession. As he neared the castle he noticed a greater number of attendees wearing costumes. There was even a Stormtrooper wearing shiny white armour glimmering in the early sun. Duncan was intrigued by a young Goth-girl with long straight black hair, not only was she extremely attractive but she moved in a very peculiar way, as if she was hiding.
“You go girl!” She declared unexpectedly earning a quizzical look from her admirer.
Duncan entered the gatehouse and queued up to validate his ticket. As he waited his anticipation of the delights to come merged with those around him such that there was almost a tangible electricity in the air. He approached the front of the queue and accepted a Blue Feather necklace and headed to the changing room to make the final adjustments to his costume and store his bag and phone in a locker.
Duncan was keen to get to the stocks flanking the entrance to the courtyard. He had spied two sets of stocks like the ones he wanted to tickle torture his advisor from jobcentre in. In the single set a gagged athletic girl was bent forwards, her ankles, wrists and head held in line. She really seemed to be suffering but the crowd didn’t seem to care, and Duncan relished the chance to add to her torment. The two women in the double stocks opposite were also getting it from the crowd but didn’t seem to be objecting quite as vehemently. One was a brunette with shoulder length hair becoming less and less neat as she struggled. Like the timid giggling Goth next to her she seemed to be enjoying the tickle torture giving her tormentors discrete submissive looks with red cheeks and twinkling eyes. Duncan queued up like he had at the beach until a woman in a Dominatrix costume with Egyptian style eye make-up beckoned him forwards to the athletic girl in the single stocks. Duncan was slightly apprehensive as the struggling slave girl made a muffled desperate plea into her ball-gag. His concern was amplified by both the helpless look in her eyes and the way her fingers grasped at nothing from within the spiky bracelets that prevented her escaping.
“You sure she’s okay with this?” He whispered to the Dominatrix.
“Of course, she told me she wanted to be tickle torture mercilessly for hours!... It’s her fantasy!” Cleo whispered discretely in reply.
Duncan knelt at the stocks amongst the other ticklers and found a spot on her left arch that wasn’t already being tormented. It was the first time he had felt the soft flesh of a woman’s foot since that Halloween party. There was something indescribable about actually touching a woman’s feet instead of watching a video of them being tickled, he relished the moist warm flesh as it twitched and tingled under his caress. Duncan began to regret his costume slightly as his tight white trousers uncomfortably tightened under the home-made codpiece. Her torture was so extreme that it was impossible for Duncan to fathom what impact his touches were having, never-the-less the poor girl was going insane. Her muffled screams and the rattling of the stocks only attracted more ticklers who explored her upper body, legs and every soft patch of skin her slave costume didn’t cover.
Eventually Duncan grew tired of being jostled and nudged and departed from the crowd, turning to investigate the pair on display in the double punishment stocks. He began at the rosy-cheeked brunette’s soles; sharing them with only a few other patrons, two of whom used feathers between her toes whilst another used their fingers on the taut arches. The shy victim had reached the silent laughter stage of torture, never-the-less Duncan was pleased with the manner in which her silent struggles responded to his efforts. With the athletic victim there had been so many other ticklers his administrations had been lost in a sea of torturous sensations. Now he could vary his touch between fingertips and nails and be rewarded by a shift from hoarse silent laughter to helpless gasps for air punctuated with a deep desperate inhalation of air.
Duncan could not resist sliding over to explore the soles of the sumptuous Goth-girl next door in the stocks. He was glad he did, not only were her soft pale feet a goldmine but reluctantly withdrawn shortly after he caressed their smooth arches and delightful toes. Like the brunette the grinning Goth-girl seemed to love the sensations but began to complain of a bad-back, the stocks opened on a hinge freeing both victims.
“My back feels fine!” The brunette slave teased, wiggling her toes.
Duncan was amazed, something about the brunette gave the impression she was a well-behaved academic sort but her smile and mannerisms betrayed an intense passion for tickle torture. In the Goth’s place a struggling woman in her mid-thirties was reluctantly trapped. Duncan felt sorry for her briefly, however the event organiser’s seemed to know her name and she had a yellow feather necklace which meant she had agreed to be someone’s slave.
Duncan had enjoyed the soft tickles he had so far administered, thrilled by her greatest fantasy coming to life. Now the allure of a more sadistic game called to him like a siren’s call. He shifted over to the Mousy Blonde’s soles as her toes were tied back, she was clearly struggling and terrified of the torture to come. She had good feet, she was obviously a bit older than the other women he had tickled so far but it had yet to show. Duncan softly ran a finger from heel to arch and was delighted by the helpless giggle that replaced the furious indignation of the struggling woman bent double. Duncan opened the small pouch his codpiece was built around and slipped on three of the rubber page turners.
“NOOO!!! STOOO-OOOP!” His victim begged as several other ticklers settled in.
Duncan smiled knowing it was him and his ‘little toys’ that had broken her. Her torment did not cease and her cries for mercy only attracted more sadistic ticklers, until the gates were opened. The crowd around the three women in the punishment stocks thinned and Duncan took the opportunity to return to the athletic slave girl’s feet. She was still struggling frantically causing the stocks to rattle. Delighted by a larger share of her soles Duncan put the rubber page turners to good use. He had grown his nails long especially for the event and carefully cut small holes for the sharp keratin to protrude from the evil textured caps. To his satisfaction the other ticklers moved aside to let him torment her deep arches with the infuriating accessories. Remembering his other toys he produced an electric toothbrush and began to use it the suffering girl’s toes.
“Can I have a go with that?.... or with those things on your fingertips?” Asked a pretty woman in a red dress.
“Be my pick!... I mean… Take your guest!...” Duncan stumbled, forever getting tongue tied in situations like this.
She chuckled in response, not sarcastically but cheerfully and smiled a wonderful smile at Duncan, replying;
“Call me Diane!... I will try some of those things first!” The high cheek-boned woman pointed at the page turners as she spoke.
Duncan was calmed by her response, her face lit up when she smiled and she had the most delightful brown hair, neither dark nor light but embodying the beauty of both in the sunlight as it hung to her shoulders. She took the page turners from Duncan’s left hand which he used to hold his toothbrush, another patron grew bored and discarded and electric flosser provided by the show’s organisers. He was quickly replaced by another newcomer but the device was quickly snatched up by the devious woman.
“I think these work better!....” She beamed, wiggling the page turners.
Duncan smiled and tried to think of something clever to say, nothing was forthcoming.
“…But I have always wanted to try one of these!” She added briefly gesturing with the flosser before returning it to a sensitive spot between two of their victim’s toes.
“..Thanks!” Duncan replied, too late for her first comment.
“Where did you get the idea for these from?....” She asked, tilting her head and smiling her feline smile.
The already nervous Duncan froze, he didn’t want to admit he once saw a video of a woman being tickled with such items. It was strange; he was tickling a perfect stranger, talking to a perfect stranger who clearly liked to tickle women as much as him and yet he still felt embarrassed by his fetish.
“… I don’t think I have ever seen a video where these were used?” Diane lied, her voice soothing and inviting.
This broke the ice and Duncan opened up, chatting about different tickling videos he liked as well as scenarios and restraint methods. It was a great release to be able to talk to someone about tickling, it had always been his own personal private thing and yet it felt good to interact. While they chatted the athletic slave suffered until both took their leave having seen far too many beautiful women walk by to stay at the same set of soles. More patrons took their place and as they walked away Diane asked;
“Do you think we were too mean?”
“No… I heard it is her fantasy to be tickled as brutally as possible without any mercy or breaks…” Duncan replied.
“Wow! Hardcore!” Diane chirped, in truth she had enjoyed tickling the helpless girl and didn’t care if it was her fantasy or not.
“Yeah can’t wait to see what they do to her next!” Duncan added, accompanying the sultry minx from the gatehouse into the courtyard.
Diane smiled, pleased with this response; she had found another true sadist like herself, an accomplice for all the cruel games and devious tricks she intended to play. Meanwhile Duncan’s mind raced with the possibilities, he felt more alive than he had in months. The expectation filled him with the same joy he felt during his first year of University when the world was new and ready to be explored as opposed to the dark miserable place it had become. The day was just beginning, the sun was shining and the delicious sounds of laughter filled the castle grounds enticing an inviting the pair to a day of exciting sadistic fun.
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