An Honest Mistake (M/F)
“Listen! Her name is Jane and she’ll be wearing a red fleece jacket. Go look for her. When you find her take her to the dungeon ASAP. That’s all you need to do. The guards will do the rest! Now go!”
The young fellow headed out into the vast courtyard muttering to himself…Red fleece. Jane. A woman called Jane. In a red fleece. That’s all I need to do, he mimicked. Then, not wanting to disappoint his exasperated boss, he set off in a hurry.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exactly four minutes later, and after much scurrying here and there and back again…..
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There! There she is. Thank god for that, he thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Red fleece. Dark blue jeans. Hiking boots. And rather more attractive than he envisaged. If you liked your women slightly older than you and curvy.
“Jane?!” he dashed towards her. Holding out his hand to greet her, they shook hands.
“Yes?!” she replied, slightly startled.
“I’m sorry. People are waiting for you. This way please!”
“Oh-Kayyyy!” she said, looking around her searching for some sort of explanation.
He hurried her along to the dungeon jabbering away nervously, barely giving her a split second to question what was happening. Upon reaching the dungeon he opened the large wooden door with the oversized key……
“Just go down the steps and ‘The Guards’ - will take you from there!” he added air commas and a smile to the bemused lady in the red fleece.
She smiled back and instantly became infinitely more beautiful; she had perfect teeth and a stunning wide smile that stretched from ear to ear, taking over her entire face. His gaze lingered a little too long. Awkwardly, he excused himself and turned on his heel, pushing the heavy door shut and locking it from the outside before she could follow.
Intrigued as to what was going on, she paid heed to his instruction. Had she had any inkling about what was to happen to her, she would never have entered that dungeon. But Jane was a people-pleaser. One of those kind souls who believed everyone had good intentions. So she made her way down the steps as instructed.
The guards readied themselves for their actress, Jane, who would be wearing a red fleece jacket. They both looked up the steps at the same time and saw a pretty brunette lady with curves in all the right places walking hesitantly towards them.
“Jane?!” one of them asked.
She nodded, nervously eying up the two enormous guards. Jane was barely 5ft 3inches in height, whereas the two colossal men were both 6ft 5 plus.
“I’m Griff. This is John. We’re running a little late so we’ll have to get started immediately! We don’t have time to get you in costume unfortunately. I hope that’s OK with you!”
She was just about to ask what costume they could possibly be referring to but only managed to come out with….
“Uhh, okay, but I…!”
In a split second, John stepped in front of her and pulled her wrists together clicking them into a set of handcuffs. He then produced a choker which he clipped on around her neck. Her cuffed wrists were then raised up and over her head and fixed to the very nape of her neck. Her arms were now immovably trapped and framing her pretty face.
“Hey! What the heck is this about…?!”
“Oh don’t worry it’s just to make it look more genuine that’s all. It’ll be over before you know it!”
The guards then prodded her down the corridor towards another large door which was half opened. She could see it was well-lit with lanterns and filled with a throng people.
“Uhh, what’s all this about?!” she said, her voice cracking. The guards either didn’t hear or simply ignored her.
“Once we get nearer the door we’ll have to carry you in. You just do your thing. Y’know, flail around and yell. We won’t drop you, don’t worry!”
“Huh!! Honestly I don’t know what all this is abouuu ----unfff!”
In a sudden scuffle of movement around her, the guards manhandled her and carried her into the dungeon under the crooks of their bulging arms.
“HEY!!! THIS IS C--RAZY!!! GET THE….!!! PUT ME DOWN! She screamed, now genuinely alarmed.
She struggled and kicked with all her might but the enormous guards were far too strong for her and she was carried into the belly of the huge dungeon where a bearded man in a medieval robe awaited her in the centre of the dusty room. The room was filled with people.
“AHH, HERE SHE IS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS! FEAR NOT, I’LL MAKE HER EXTRA SORRY FOR KEEPING US ALL WAITING!”
The eager crowd loudly approved.
“Guards, get this mischief-maker readied for her punishment! She’s already been found guilty of theft, so it’s time for justice to be served!”
Jane was truly bewildered. And now starting to get really scared.
“WAIT!! WHAT?! THIS IS CRAZY!! HELP!! I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON! SOMEONE HELP!!!” she yelled out.
Everyone around her was captivated. As she kicked and fought and got generally breathless no-one made a move to help her.
The guards dropped to their knees but kept her tightly in their grasp. She could feel her knees being tied together. Her ankles were crossed and then fettered tightly, thick ropes in between and around them, keeping them crossed and apart. Once they were finished with her, she couldn’t move either foot at all, and nor could she cover one foot with the other.
She so desperately tried to wriggle free, but it was hopeless. Her arms were redundant, stuck as they were behind her head.
“WAIT!! PLEASE!! WHAT’S GOING ON? THIS IS A MISTAKE!! REALLY!” she pleaded.
The guards were impressed by her performance. They both nodded at each other and encouraged her to continue.
“Guards! Have her winched. We’ve waited long enough to get our hands on this thief!” spoke the bearded man, before turning on his heel and slipping quietly out of the room. Up the winding steps he went, letting himself in to the punishment chamber above the dungeon.
Jane was gathered up again by his two enormous helpers. Her rope-bound ankles were placed into a medieval-looking gravity boot system. Taking care to fasten the straps as tightly as humanly possible, the guards took her weight until she was being hoisted by her ankles up towards the trap door above.
“WHOOOAAAAA!!! What’s happening?!” she squirmed.
She eagerly looked around the room as she swayed. All the while she was slowly pulled upwards, seeing dozens of upturned faces, mouths agape. Many of them were grinning.
The trap doors opened briefly for the bulky ankle straps to fit through the gap, and then closed snugly around them, trapping the thick leather, rope and buckles above.
No one could see what was up there. But everyone could hear the sound of several heavy bolts sliding into place.
All that Jane could see – when she could summon up the momentum to lift her head - was a weathered, wooden trap door with semi-circles cut out of each wooden half, into which her bound ankles were now locked. And locked tight.
She was dangling helplessly for mere seconds before the speaker system crackled on. The gruff, gravelly voice of the bearded one spoke. He was leaning out of the window in the punishment room, and soon had the attention of the entire audience.
“Letchworth Castle was home to some of the most hideous tortures mankind has ever conjured up, but rumour has it that this room was feared by all. Particularly so when the wicked tormentor – Soledad - was in a merciless mood. Although he had what was considered an unorthodox method of punishment, it was exceptionally effective, and was eventually used in many other castles around these parts. Say thief, we’re all wondering……are you ticklish on the soles of your feet?!”
At that moment, Jane knew she was in terrible trouble. Open-mouthed with the shock of what she had just heard, she squirmed and struggled with all her might – letting out a piercing squeal of terror - as her predicament dawned on her. She was here as an active, and completely unwilling participant, in a medieval torture re-enactment!
“NO!!! NO WAY!! GET ME OUT OF THIS THING NOW! I’M NOT MEANT TO BE HERE!!!” she pleaded.
The guards stood either side of her. They were instructed not to impede the viewing of the spectators of course. But they did chip in with unhelpful and quite frankly fiendish comments to get her even more riled up. They’d never seen such giddy panic before the tickling began. She was a great actress, they agreed.
“Feel free to wriggle around. You’ll never escape, but it’s exciting to see you try! Mwahahaha!!!!’ The comical, exaggerated chuckle of the bearded man through his microphone launched Jane into another bout of feverish wriggling as she let out another involuntary high-pitched squeal. The crowd failed to stifle their enjoyment of the commotion before them, each of them now spreading out to find a better vantage point to observe the show.
“NO!! WAIT!!! I CAN’T!! YOU CAN’T!! PLEASE! LET ME GO!!” she babbled.
Above her, hands that couldn’t be seen from below began to unpick the laces of her walking boots. Taking their time. Teasing the laces from their knotted quarters. The audience were amazed. They couldn’t wait for what was to come. Looking at her panicked reactions one moment and gazing up to the window frame in the punishment room above them the next…
“STOP THAT!! STOP IT NOW!! OH MY GOD!! STOP!!!!! PLEASE!! GET UP THERE AND STOP THEM!! I MEAN IT!!!” she yelled. But she was such a sweet-natured lady and she never did have the loudest shouting voice. Besides, it was getting raucous in the dungeon.
The audience tittered amongst themselves excitedly.
She tried her best to kick herself free and throw herself around but she just swayed there. It was so difficult to gather up momentum with her arms bundled up behind her head.
No one moved to help. They could not stop watching.
Her laces were all-too-soon loose. As her boots were playfully tugged at by the bearded man above, Jane flew into even more of a panic as reality hit.
“MY BOOTS!! OHMYGODD!! PLEASE!!!!! HELP ME SOMEONE!!! DON’T TAKE THEM OFF! GET UP THERE AND STOP THEM!!” she squealed.
So horrified by what was going on, Jane was making little sense. It was unclear whether she was appealing to the watching public or her soon-to-be tormentor from one moment to the next.
The guards couldn’t help themselves.
“What’s the matter, thief? Aren’t you looking forward to your feet tickling?”
“Look at her squirm! I don’t think she’ll be able to stand it!”
Jane giggled helplessly as they taunted her and she had no idea why. She briefly remembered all the times her husband had tickled her bare feet and how she couldn’t help but fall about in hysterics. This couldn’t be happening to her, surely. Not like this. Not when she couldn’t do a thing to stop it. And with a baying audience.
“GRIFF!!! HELP ME!! JOHN!!! PLEASE!! I’M NOT MEANT TO BE HERE! THEY’VE GOT THE WRONG JANE!!”
John and Griff both looked at each other and laughed.
“I’M SERIOUS! GET ON YOUR WALKIE TALKIE AND CHECK IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME! PLEASE!” she begged.
Griff turned away and used his walkie talkie to enquire.
He turned back and asked Jane what her surname was.
“Huggins. I’m Jane Huggins!”
Griff turned back and asked over the walkie talkie what surname their actress Jane had. The reply was definitely not Huggins. The Jane they had trussed upside down was not an actress. She was a regular member of the public on a day out. They had the wrong woman. She was telling the truth.
Griff, spotting an opportunity, called John over and they both turned their backs to converse. They both agreed that, rather than help this poor woman, they were going to act dumb and see her get tickled senseless. She was so obviously extremely ticklish and she was such a pretty thing.
They both turned back and resumed their positions either side of the frantic Jane!
“Nope. Sorry ma’am, everything seems legit at the front desk. Jane Huggins in a red fleece. With an extra helping of feet tickles!” Griff grinned.
“IMPOSSIBLE!! YOU’RE LYING! JOHN!! GRIFF!! PLEASE!! I HAVE MONEY!! I’LL PAY YOU! I CAN’T HAVE MY FEET TICKLED LIKE THIS!”
“Who’s John?” said Griff.
“Who’s Griff?” said John, and they both chuckled wickedly.
“We’re guards. We’re doing our duty. And besides, we want to see you get tickled silly Jane. And believe me, you’ll be beside yourself laughing very soon!”
“SOMEBODY-HEHE!! PLEASE HELP!! YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG PERSON!! I DON’T BELONG HERE! I’M JUST A VISITOR!!” she yelled.
“You’re in trouble now wrongdoer!”
“You can’t go anywhere!”
Jane knew it was true. She couldn’t do a thing about her situation. She started chortling helplessly.
“Try begging for mercy, outlaw!”
“I wouldn’t give up just yet. Keep trying to get free!”
“Don’t take too long about it. The Tormentor is in the room where your helpless feet are! He’s going to tickle them unless you escape!”
Jane, despite being awfully ticklish, couldn’t stop herself from snickering.
“Oh just you wait! That man up there; he knows how to tickle feet! Last week he made a woman wet herself laughing without even taking her socks off!”
“NO!!! WAIT!!!!!!!!eheheOHMYGOODNESS!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!! WAIT!!!!!!! NO!!! NO TICKLING!!!! I CAN’T!!!”
The excitement levels heightened in the crowd. She was utterly trapped and the taunting was unbearable to her.
“OHMYGOD!!!! PLEASE DON’T!!! NOT THE FEET!! ICANT!!!!!!!” she begged.
“Oh yes! Definitely the feet!”
“PLE-HEHHEHE-ASE!!"
“You’re going to laugh and laugh and laugh!”
“HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHE!! PLEASE DON’T!!!!
“Where do you think she’s going to be most ticklish? I think it’ll be right underneath her toes. What do you think?” Griff said to John.
“I think it’ll be right in the middles of her soles. Whatever, we’ll soon see!” he replied.
She was in such a tizzy already and it was all down to the anticipation and utter dread of what was happening to her.
Seconds later, both sturdy walking boots were dropped from above, thudding down upon the stony earth and bouncing away in different directions.
“OHHHHGOD!!NO!!THISCAN’TBE!!I’MJUSTAVISITORPLEASE----YOUHAVETOBELIEVEME!!”
Some of the women in the audience put their hands over their mouths. If there was any doubting the legitimacy of the show before, it was dispelled by now.
“Oh deary me, look at those sturdy boots just discarded on the floor. I bet you so wish you still had them on huh!” the guards both chuckled.
“It’s nearly tiiiccccklllleee ttiiiiiimmmmeeee! It’ll be socks off next! Then you’ll be in real trouble! Naughty thief!!”
“PLEASE!! A-HA---AHAHA—ENOUGH!!!! THE JOKES OVER!! IT’S TIME TO LET ME DOWN NOW!! PLEASE!! NOT MY SOCKS!!! NOT THEM!! DON’T TA-HAHAAAYY-KE MY SOCKS!! I’M BEGGING YOU!! WHAT DO YOU WA-HAAANT?!”
The bearded tormentor sat on the floor of the upper chamber, looking down at Jane’s socked soles, playfully pinching and pulling at the fabric here and there. He wanted to let her know what was coming. A wide, mischievous grin was spread across his face and a hefty tent emerged from the lap of his gown. He was going to really enjoy this. Her ankles were locked extremely tightly together by the rope and gravity boots over her jeans and her white cotton socks were just begging to be plucked from her.
“PLEASE!! CAN YOU HEAR ME??!! I’M BEGGING YOU!! PLEASE DOHOHANNNTTT-AHAHAHA------EEEEEHEHEHEHEHE---DAHAAA-AHHHHAHHAHAH!”
He had begun tracing around the outsides of Jane’s socked feet – one finger tracing slowly around the perimeter – and was delighted with her hee-hawing.
“Ehehehee-----AHHAAA-----EHEEEHEEEEEE------STAHAHAHAPPP!! For the love of AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA!”
“OH, I think it’s started…..!” tittered Griff.
Immediately, one rough index finger – one on each foot - nestled in the very centres of her socked soles. It was to be a relatively temporary home. He could see Jane’s frantic wriggling through a peephole in the timber and smirked as she tried to hold herself together.
A poke on one sole. A squiggle on the other. It was just the beginning.
“My fee-AHAAAAA----myAHAHAHAHHAA---myAHAHAHAHAHAAHAH! He’s ti-AHAHAHA---my-AHAHAHAHAHA”
“Oh I bet you love it really. Don’t you thief?!” teased the bearded tormentor over his mic.
She could offer no direct verbal response to the question, lost as she was in a frenzied bout of uncontainable giggles.
“Jane, has he started tickling your feet?!” Griff asked again, enjoying her inability to respond.
Above them all, the bearded one grabbed and clawed at her socked soles randomly, sending her jiggling around in mid-air. She managed to nod a frantic yes whilst her mouth sprang open in helpless merriment.
“But you still have your socks on, don’t you?!” asked Griff, feigning confusion and stroking his chin.
Silent laughter overwhelmed her. She was lost in a world of tickled laughter, the like of which she had never experienced. She was beside herself. This was her worst nightmare, and it was happening with an audience. Who were loving it.
Jane finally managed to nod another emphatic yes, that she did still have her socks on.
“Hey, you up there!! TAKE HER SOCKS OFF!! TAKE HER SOCKS OFF AND TICKLE HER SILLY!!” one onlooker yelled.
Several of them laughed out loud and encouraged it. Others said nothing but truly wanted it to happen.
“Eeee-Hehehehehehe----No-HOHOHOHOH—eeeeeeeHEHEHEE! DON’TTTT-ehehee-DON’TLISTENTOTHE-EHEHEHEH” she chortled, desperate to halt the impending tickles.
“NO!! ah-HUHUHUHUH- DON’T! PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY SOCKS OFF! PLEASE! ANYTHING BUT THIS…..!”
“Eheheheheh----hehehehehe---hehhehe----NOT THIS----ooHOHOHOH!!”
The bearded one suddenly appeared at the window of the upper chamber which housed Jane’s bound ankles and sock-covered feet.
“Perhaps a show of hands? Who thinks this VERY naughty thief should have her socks taken off?!”
All of the people in the room raised their hand. Some of them raised both.
“Quite conclusive!! Socks off it is!” the bearded one said, briefly ducking down out of view.
“OHMYGOD-STOP!!AHAAAA-EHEHEHEHEHEHE…!PLEASEDON’TDOTHIS!! I’LLPEE-HEHEHE---ARHARHAR!”
“Now THAT sounds like a challenge!” teased Griff.
Just the feeling of her socks being tugged from her feet set her into a writhing panic as the bearded tormentor drank in the image of her perfect upturned feet. He had tickled many pretty feet in his time but these were something else. High arches. Flawless toe stems and such soft pretty toes. He could wait no longer. He simply rested both sets of fingers on either sole and gave a brief squiggle which prompted a howl of laughter. The look of pure mirth on her face was completely at odds with the fireworks going off in her brain.
A second later, he re-appeared at the window and dropped two balled up socks down onto the dusty ground.
Out of view of the crowd who were looking up to the window, the bearded one had picked up his famed tickle stick. Even though appearing to be casually leaning on the wooden frame of the window his hand steered the stick – with it’s stiff feathers and bristles adorning it, onto the bare sole of the giddy Jane.
“OHH-GAHAHAHAHA-NO-HOHOHO-DON’T!! IT’S GONE TOO FAHAHARRR!! PLEASE!! I’M BEGGING YOU!!!! I’MJUSTAVISITOR-hehe-hehehehehehhehehe-ehehehe!”
She fell into a fit of helpless giggles when the course bristles touched down.
“What’s the matter with our thief? I’m here at the window. I’m not even touching her!”
“ehehehehe------EHEHEHEHEH----you’reticklingmy-ehehehehehehhee!”
The tickle stick continued to meander all around her naked sole.
“STOP-THA-hahahahahahhahahahhaha!”
Jane was in the throes of tickled laughter.
“Thief, do you have any remorse?!” asked the bearded tickler.
Jane was floundering around and in a breathless kerfuffle. Squeaks and giggles and snickers tumbled out of her mouth one after the other. She was struggling to keep it together, but it was a hopeless battle.
Here she was upside down and dangling with her arms bundled up helplessly behind her head. She was being interrogated in a mock medieval dungeon for apparently thieving, whilst her now entirely bare and horrendously ticklish soles were being stalked by a relentless tickle stick.
It might’ve been a re-enacted performance for everyone else in the room but it was every bit as real as it could get for Jane.
“EH-hehehehe-STA-STOPIT!!-ehehehhehe-I’MNOTATHIEF!! Ehehhee”
“She seems to find this all rather amusing Sir!” Griff said.
“Does she indeed. The temerity of it!”
“AHAHA---PLEASE—NOMORE!! EHHEHE---ICAN’T!”
“Are you sorry for stealing?!” He grinned widely at the onlooking crowd and showed them the tickle stick briefly before setting it back upon her feet.
“EHEHHEE---YES-AAAAAAAHAHHA-IMSORRY!ohmygodSTOP!!!”
“Are you very sorry?!”
Tears of laughter were leaking from her eyes and she was giddily giggling, nodding desperately to agree that yes, she was very sorry for the fictional crime that she didn’t commit.
“Isn’t it remarkable what a bit of foot tickling can do, ladies and gentleman? Quite incredible how a grown woman can have as many layers of clothing on as she wants, but if her bare feet are exposed she’s the most vulnerable thing in the world…!”
He moved away from the window in the upper chamber and in moments Jane erupted in hysterics. She couldn’t even beg this time.
“AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA-AHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA-EHEHEHEHHEHE-AHAHHAHAHHA----------------------AHAHHAHAHAHAH-ehehehhe----OHMYGOD----ahhaa-----!”
“Tell our friends in the audience what just happened!” he prompted.
“PLEASE---ENOUGH!! HAHAHA----OHMY-ehhehehehe! Oh-go-hod---you tickled my feet with your fingers!”
“That’s right. I tickled your feet with the fingers of one hand for what…three seconds?! How will you manage when I do it for TEN?!” he said before skipping out of view again.
“NO!! WAIT!!! NOTTHIS---OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO-squealing-AAAAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA----ARHARHARHARHARHARHAR!!
Out of view, the bearded one’s hand scampered all over both feet, like a demented spider, grabbing roughly at her smooth soles. Criss-crossed at the ankles and tied ever-so-well, there wasn’t a thing she could do to avoid it. She could only howl.
“You’re a naughty girl aren’t you!! Tell everyone here that you’re a naughty girl!!”
“ehhhehehe-I’M-A-NAUGHTY-GIRL!”
“Have you learned your lesson?!”
“ohGODYES!! PLEASE!! I’ve learned my lesson!” she said, hoping he was being sincere.
“You do have THE prettiest soles I have ever seen though, Madam! And goodness me are they TICKLISH! I mean, ladies and gentlemen, watch what happens when I use just one set of fingers to tickle these feet!
“NOOOO-EHEH-ehhehehehe----ehehehe----oohohoohohoho----ahahhahha----heeeehhheeee------ENOUGH!!!---ehehhehehehe!”
He stopped after a little while to let her gain some level of lucidity before menacingly announcing….
“Now, ladies and gentleman, some REAL tickle torture for our self-confessed thief!”
Jane squealed in anticipation.
The bearded tormentor was finished with the playful stuff now. He used his index fingers as methodical tools, scratching softly but deliberately at her big toe pads one second, and then delving underneath and in between her plump toes the next. She guffawed one moment and howled the next. From the ankles downwards she sprang around like a trapped animal, but her ankles weren’t moving an inch, and nor were her helpless soles.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHHA-EHEHEHHEHEHHEHEH-I’M-AHHAHAHHAHA-THI-HEHEHEHEHEHEHE-CAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA-STOHO-HOHOHOHOPPP-------------ARHARHARHARHARHARHARHAR!!”
In between her howling bouts of laughter, a big, goofy involuntary smile was plastered over her face as she flailed around frantically. But where she expected to go was anyone’s guess. It was all reflex. A few times she managed to thrust her body upwards, but swiftly afterwards she’d fall back down into even harder laughter. It was quickly dawning on her that she could do nothing about her plight. Other than giggle. And snort. And laugh. Helplessly.
He stopped one last time before the final, most nefarious act.
“You may think that our thief has suffered enough. But Soledad was a ruthless exponent of the art of tickle torture. So much so, that he perfected his craft with certain tools. Thankfully these tools were recently found buried here in this very dungeon. I will be showing you their effectiveness in 10……9……8……!”
He slipped on the fiendish metallic fingertips as he counted down.
“7…..6……5!”
“NOHOHOHOHO!THISCAN’TBE!PLEASENOMORE!!”
“4……3……!”
Jane truly lost her mind with the dread of what was to come. Surely things weren’t going to get worse. She once again threw herself around as much as she physically could until little giggles and squeals emitted from her as the reality dawned on her.
“OHGODPLEASEHELP!ENOUGH!I’VEHADENOUGHPLEASE!!eehehe-THISISN’TRIGHT!!ahahaha!OHGOD…..!!
Then, as he counted down from two…..to one….. he turned his hands into claws and poked and grabbed at her pudgy toes and ticklish soles. Both at the same time. The first grabs ripped the breath out of poor Jane, emptying her lungs with a soundless cackle, but the incessant grab attacks that followed produced the most hysterical shrill laughter. It was as if electricity was passing through her body as the pitch of her laughter kept climbing and climbing. She simply could not stand it.
“AHAHAHAHAHA--------AHAAAAAAAA---HHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA!”
Tears spilled from her eyes as she howled and shrieked.
As the bearded tormentor poked and squiggled and wriggled those deadly pointed metallic fingertips all over those delightful, soft soles Jane laughed like a hyena. Her knees attempted to spring free but it was never going to happen. She laughed and cried and snorted, but the tickling never stopped. The bearded tormentor was drunk with the power that he held over her. The guards continued to mercilessly tease her, despite her hysterical state.
At some point, when those wretched metallic fingertips were delving into the undersides of her toes, Jane could simply stand it no more and she wet herself with a cry of cackling hysteria.
A few moments later, the bearded tormentor reached his own dramatic climax, making a mess of the inside of his robe.
The re-enactment was over. The audience excitedly filtered out, chattering away amongst one another.
Jane, a 43 year old married mother of two, who had intended on a casual stroll around a castle one afternoon had found herself the victim of a miscommunication. Amazingly, her only actual crime was to share the same first name and same colour fleece as a lady who was the actual intended ‘performer’.
A day that everyone in attendance would never forget.
Jane would never mention it.
“Listen! Her name is Jane and she’ll be wearing a red fleece jacket. Go look for her. When you find her take her to the dungeon ASAP. That’s all you need to do. The guards will do the rest! Now go!”
The young fellow headed out into the vast courtyard muttering to himself…Red fleece. Jane. A woman called Jane. In a red fleece. That’s all I need to do, he mimicked. Then, not wanting to disappoint his exasperated boss, he set off in a hurry.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exactly four minutes later, and after much scurrying here and there and back again…..
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There! There she is. Thank god for that, he thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Red fleece. Dark blue jeans. Hiking boots. And rather more attractive than he envisaged. If you liked your women slightly older than you and curvy.
“Jane?!” he dashed towards her. Holding out his hand to greet her, they shook hands.
“Yes?!” she replied, slightly startled.
“I’m sorry. People are waiting for you. This way please!”
“Oh-Kayyyy!” she said, looking around her searching for some sort of explanation.
He hurried her along to the dungeon jabbering away nervously, barely giving her a split second to question what was happening. Upon reaching the dungeon he opened the large wooden door with the oversized key……
“Just go down the steps and ‘The Guards’ - will take you from there!” he added air commas and a smile to the bemused lady in the red fleece.
She smiled back and instantly became infinitely more beautiful; she had perfect teeth and a stunning wide smile that stretched from ear to ear, taking over her entire face. His gaze lingered a little too long. Awkwardly, he excused himself and turned on his heel, pushing the heavy door shut and locking it from the outside before she could follow.
Intrigued as to what was going on, she paid heed to his instruction. Had she had any inkling about what was to happen to her, she would never have entered that dungeon. But Jane was a people-pleaser. One of those kind souls who believed everyone had good intentions. So she made her way down the steps as instructed.
The guards readied themselves for their actress, Jane, who would be wearing a red fleece jacket. They both looked up the steps at the same time and saw a pretty brunette lady with curves in all the right places walking hesitantly towards them.
“Jane?!” one of them asked.
She nodded, nervously eying up the two enormous guards. Jane was barely 5ft 3inches in height, whereas the two colossal men were both 6ft 5 plus.
“I’m Griff. This is John. We’re running a little late so we’ll have to get started immediately! We don’t have time to get you in costume unfortunately. I hope that’s OK with you!”
She was just about to ask what costume they could possibly be referring to but only managed to come out with….
“Uhh, okay, but I…!”
In a split second, John stepped in front of her and pulled her wrists together clicking them into a set of handcuffs. He then produced a choker which he clipped on around her neck. Her cuffed wrists were then raised up and over her head and fixed to the very nape of her neck. Her arms were now immovably trapped and framing her pretty face.
“Hey! What the heck is this about…?!”
“Oh don’t worry it’s just to make it look more genuine that’s all. It’ll be over before you know it!”
The guards then prodded her down the corridor towards another large door which was half opened. She could see it was well-lit with lanterns and filled with a throng people.
“Uhh, what’s all this about?!” she said, her voice cracking. The guards either didn’t hear or simply ignored her.
“Once we get nearer the door we’ll have to carry you in. You just do your thing. Y’know, flail around and yell. We won’t drop you, don’t worry!”
“Huh!! Honestly I don’t know what all this is abouuu ----unfff!”
In a sudden scuffle of movement around her, the guards manhandled her and carried her into the dungeon under the crooks of their bulging arms.
“HEY!!! THIS IS C--RAZY!!! GET THE….!!! PUT ME DOWN! She screamed, now genuinely alarmed.
She struggled and kicked with all her might but the enormous guards were far too strong for her and she was carried into the belly of the huge dungeon where a bearded man in a medieval robe awaited her in the centre of the dusty room. The room was filled with people.
“AHH, HERE SHE IS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS! FEAR NOT, I’LL MAKE HER EXTRA SORRY FOR KEEPING US ALL WAITING!”
The eager crowd loudly approved.
“Guards, get this mischief-maker readied for her punishment! She’s already been found guilty of theft, so it’s time for justice to be served!”
Jane was truly bewildered. And now starting to get really scared.
“WAIT!! WHAT?! THIS IS CRAZY!! HELP!! I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON! SOMEONE HELP!!!” she yelled out.
Everyone around her was captivated. As she kicked and fought and got generally breathless no-one made a move to help her.
The guards dropped to their knees but kept her tightly in their grasp. She could feel her knees being tied together. Her ankles were crossed and then fettered tightly, thick ropes in between and around them, keeping them crossed and apart. Once they were finished with her, she couldn’t move either foot at all, and nor could she cover one foot with the other.
She so desperately tried to wriggle free, but it was hopeless. Her arms were redundant, stuck as they were behind her head.
“WAIT!! PLEASE!! WHAT’S GOING ON? THIS IS A MISTAKE!! REALLY!” she pleaded.
The guards were impressed by her performance. They both nodded at each other and encouraged her to continue.
“Guards! Have her winched. We’ve waited long enough to get our hands on this thief!” spoke the bearded man, before turning on his heel and slipping quietly out of the room. Up the winding steps he went, letting himself in to the punishment chamber above the dungeon.
Jane was gathered up again by his two enormous helpers. Her rope-bound ankles were placed into a medieval-looking gravity boot system. Taking care to fasten the straps as tightly as humanly possible, the guards took her weight until she was being hoisted by her ankles up towards the trap door above.
“WHOOOAAAAA!!! What’s happening?!” she squirmed.
She eagerly looked around the room as she swayed. All the while she was slowly pulled upwards, seeing dozens of upturned faces, mouths agape. Many of them were grinning.
The trap doors opened briefly for the bulky ankle straps to fit through the gap, and then closed snugly around them, trapping the thick leather, rope and buckles above.
No one could see what was up there. But everyone could hear the sound of several heavy bolts sliding into place.
All that Jane could see – when she could summon up the momentum to lift her head - was a weathered, wooden trap door with semi-circles cut out of each wooden half, into which her bound ankles were now locked. And locked tight.
She was dangling helplessly for mere seconds before the speaker system crackled on. The gruff, gravelly voice of the bearded one spoke. He was leaning out of the window in the punishment room, and soon had the attention of the entire audience.
“Letchworth Castle was home to some of the most hideous tortures mankind has ever conjured up, but rumour has it that this room was feared by all. Particularly so when the wicked tormentor – Soledad - was in a merciless mood. Although he had what was considered an unorthodox method of punishment, it was exceptionally effective, and was eventually used in many other castles around these parts. Say thief, we’re all wondering……are you ticklish on the soles of your feet?!”
At that moment, Jane knew she was in terrible trouble. Open-mouthed with the shock of what she had just heard, she squirmed and struggled with all her might – letting out a piercing squeal of terror - as her predicament dawned on her. She was here as an active, and completely unwilling participant, in a medieval torture re-enactment!
“NO!!! NO WAY!! GET ME OUT OF THIS THING NOW! I’M NOT MEANT TO BE HERE!!!” she pleaded.
The guards stood either side of her. They were instructed not to impede the viewing of the spectators of course. But they did chip in with unhelpful and quite frankly fiendish comments to get her even more riled up. They’d never seen such giddy panic before the tickling began. She was a great actress, they agreed.
“Feel free to wriggle around. You’ll never escape, but it’s exciting to see you try! Mwahahaha!!!!’ The comical, exaggerated chuckle of the bearded man through his microphone launched Jane into another bout of feverish wriggling as she let out another involuntary high-pitched squeal. The crowd failed to stifle their enjoyment of the commotion before them, each of them now spreading out to find a better vantage point to observe the show.
“NO!! WAIT!!! I CAN’T!! YOU CAN’T!! PLEASE! LET ME GO!!” she babbled.
Above her, hands that couldn’t be seen from below began to unpick the laces of her walking boots. Taking their time. Teasing the laces from their knotted quarters. The audience were amazed. They couldn’t wait for what was to come. Looking at her panicked reactions one moment and gazing up to the window frame in the punishment room above them the next…
“STOP THAT!! STOP IT NOW!! OH MY GOD!! STOP!!!!! PLEASE!! GET UP THERE AND STOP THEM!! I MEAN IT!!!” she yelled. But she was such a sweet-natured lady and she never did have the loudest shouting voice. Besides, it was getting raucous in the dungeon.
The audience tittered amongst themselves excitedly.
She tried her best to kick herself free and throw herself around but she just swayed there. It was so difficult to gather up momentum with her arms bundled up behind her head.
No one moved to help. They could not stop watching.
Her laces were all-too-soon loose. As her boots were playfully tugged at by the bearded man above, Jane flew into even more of a panic as reality hit.
“MY BOOTS!! OHMYGODD!! PLEASE!!!!! HELP ME SOMEONE!!! DON’T TAKE THEM OFF! GET UP THERE AND STOP THEM!!” she squealed.
So horrified by what was going on, Jane was making little sense. It was unclear whether she was appealing to the watching public or her soon-to-be tormentor from one moment to the next.
The guards couldn’t help themselves.
“What’s the matter, thief? Aren’t you looking forward to your feet tickling?”
“Look at her squirm! I don’t think she’ll be able to stand it!”
Jane giggled helplessly as they taunted her and she had no idea why. She briefly remembered all the times her husband had tickled her bare feet and how she couldn’t help but fall about in hysterics. This couldn’t be happening to her, surely. Not like this. Not when she couldn’t do a thing to stop it. And with a baying audience.
“GRIFF!!! HELP ME!! JOHN!!! PLEASE!! I’M NOT MEANT TO BE HERE! THEY’VE GOT THE WRONG JANE!!”
John and Griff both looked at each other and laughed.
“I’M SERIOUS! GET ON YOUR WALKIE TALKIE AND CHECK IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME! PLEASE!” she begged.
Griff turned away and used his walkie talkie to enquire.
He turned back and asked Jane what her surname was.
“Huggins. I’m Jane Huggins!”
Griff turned back and asked over the walkie talkie what surname their actress Jane had. The reply was definitely not Huggins. The Jane they had trussed upside down was not an actress. She was a regular member of the public on a day out. They had the wrong woman. She was telling the truth.
Griff, spotting an opportunity, called John over and they both turned their backs to converse. They both agreed that, rather than help this poor woman, they were going to act dumb and see her get tickled senseless. She was so obviously extremely ticklish and she was such a pretty thing.
They both turned back and resumed their positions either side of the frantic Jane!
“Nope. Sorry ma’am, everything seems legit at the front desk. Jane Huggins in a red fleece. With an extra helping of feet tickles!” Griff grinned.
“IMPOSSIBLE!! YOU’RE LYING! JOHN!! GRIFF!! PLEASE!! I HAVE MONEY!! I’LL PAY YOU! I CAN’T HAVE MY FEET TICKLED LIKE THIS!”
“Who’s John?” said Griff.
“Who’s Griff?” said John, and they both chuckled wickedly.
“We’re guards. We’re doing our duty. And besides, we want to see you get tickled silly Jane. And believe me, you’ll be beside yourself laughing very soon!”
“SOMEBODY-HEHE!! PLEASE HELP!! YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG PERSON!! I DON’T BELONG HERE! I’M JUST A VISITOR!!” she yelled.
“You’re in trouble now wrongdoer!”
“You can’t go anywhere!”
Jane knew it was true. She couldn’t do a thing about her situation. She started chortling helplessly.
“Try begging for mercy, outlaw!”
“I wouldn’t give up just yet. Keep trying to get free!”
“Don’t take too long about it. The Tormentor is in the room where your helpless feet are! He’s going to tickle them unless you escape!”
Jane, despite being awfully ticklish, couldn’t stop herself from snickering.
“Oh just you wait! That man up there; he knows how to tickle feet! Last week he made a woman wet herself laughing without even taking her socks off!”
“NO!!! WAIT!!!!!!!!eheheOHMYGOODNESS!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!! WAIT!!!!!!! NO!!! NO TICKLING!!!! I CAN’T!!!”
The excitement levels heightened in the crowd. She was utterly trapped and the taunting was unbearable to her.
“OHMYGOD!!!! PLEASE DON’T!!! NOT THE FEET!! ICANT!!!!!!!” she begged.
“Oh yes! Definitely the feet!”
“PLE-HEHHEHE-ASE!!"
“You’re going to laugh and laugh and laugh!”
“HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHE!! PLEASE DON’T!!!!
“Where do you think she’s going to be most ticklish? I think it’ll be right underneath her toes. What do you think?” Griff said to John.
“I think it’ll be right in the middles of her soles. Whatever, we’ll soon see!” he replied.
She was in such a tizzy already and it was all down to the anticipation and utter dread of what was happening to her.
Seconds later, both sturdy walking boots were dropped from above, thudding down upon the stony earth and bouncing away in different directions.
“OHHHHGOD!!NO!!THISCAN’TBE!!I’MJUSTAVISITORPLEASE----YOUHAVETOBELIEVEME!!”
Some of the women in the audience put their hands over their mouths. If there was any doubting the legitimacy of the show before, it was dispelled by now.
“Oh deary me, look at those sturdy boots just discarded on the floor. I bet you so wish you still had them on huh!” the guards both chuckled.
“It’s nearly tiiiccccklllleee ttiiiiiimmmmeeee! It’ll be socks off next! Then you’ll be in real trouble! Naughty thief!!”
“PLEASE!! A-HA---AHAHA—ENOUGH!!!! THE JOKES OVER!! IT’S TIME TO LET ME DOWN NOW!! PLEASE!! NOT MY SOCKS!!! NOT THEM!! DON’T TA-HAHAAAYY-KE MY SOCKS!! I’M BEGGING YOU!! WHAT DO YOU WA-HAAANT?!”
The bearded tormentor sat on the floor of the upper chamber, looking down at Jane’s socked soles, playfully pinching and pulling at the fabric here and there. He wanted to let her know what was coming. A wide, mischievous grin was spread across his face and a hefty tent emerged from the lap of his gown. He was going to really enjoy this. Her ankles were locked extremely tightly together by the rope and gravity boots over her jeans and her white cotton socks were just begging to be plucked from her.
“PLEASE!! CAN YOU HEAR ME??!! I’M BEGGING YOU!! PLEASE DOHOHANNNTTT-AHAHAHA------EEEEEHEHEHEHEHE---DAHAAA-AHHHHAHHAHAH!”
He had begun tracing around the outsides of Jane’s socked feet – one finger tracing slowly around the perimeter – and was delighted with her hee-hawing.
“Ehehehee-----AHHAAA-----EHEEEHEEEEEE------STAHAHAHAPPP!! For the love of AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA!”
“OH, I think it’s started…..!” tittered Griff.
Immediately, one rough index finger – one on each foot - nestled in the very centres of her socked soles. It was to be a relatively temporary home. He could see Jane’s frantic wriggling through a peephole in the timber and smirked as she tried to hold herself together.
A poke on one sole. A squiggle on the other. It was just the beginning.
“My fee-AHAAAAA----myAHAHAHAHHAA---myAHAHAHAHAHAAHAH! He’s ti-AHAHAHA---my-AHAHAHAHAHA”
“Oh I bet you love it really. Don’t you thief?!” teased the bearded tormentor over his mic.
She could offer no direct verbal response to the question, lost as she was in a frenzied bout of uncontainable giggles.
“Jane, has he started tickling your feet?!” Griff asked again, enjoying her inability to respond.
Above them all, the bearded one grabbed and clawed at her socked soles randomly, sending her jiggling around in mid-air. She managed to nod a frantic yes whilst her mouth sprang open in helpless merriment.
“But you still have your socks on, don’t you?!” asked Griff, feigning confusion and stroking his chin.
Silent laughter overwhelmed her. She was lost in a world of tickled laughter, the like of which she had never experienced. She was beside herself. This was her worst nightmare, and it was happening with an audience. Who were loving it.
Jane finally managed to nod another emphatic yes, that she did still have her socks on.
“Hey, you up there!! TAKE HER SOCKS OFF!! TAKE HER SOCKS OFF AND TICKLE HER SILLY!!” one onlooker yelled.
Several of them laughed out loud and encouraged it. Others said nothing but truly wanted it to happen.
“Eeee-Hehehehehehe----No-HOHOHOHOH—eeeeeeeHEHEHEE! DON’TTTT-ehehee-DON’TLISTENTOTHE-EHEHEHEH” she chortled, desperate to halt the impending tickles.
“NO!! ah-HUHUHUHUH- DON’T! PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY SOCKS OFF! PLEASE! ANYTHING BUT THIS…..!”
“Eheheheheh----hehehehehe---hehhehe----NOT THIS----ooHOHOHOH!!”
The bearded one suddenly appeared at the window of the upper chamber which housed Jane’s bound ankles and sock-covered feet.
“Perhaps a show of hands? Who thinks this VERY naughty thief should have her socks taken off?!”
All of the people in the room raised their hand. Some of them raised both.
“Quite conclusive!! Socks off it is!” the bearded one said, briefly ducking down out of view.
“OHMYGOD-STOP!!AHAAAA-EHEHEHEHEHEHE…!PLEASEDON’TDOTHIS!! I’LLPEE-HEHEHE---ARHARHAR!”
“Now THAT sounds like a challenge!” teased Griff.
Just the feeling of her socks being tugged from her feet set her into a writhing panic as the bearded tormentor drank in the image of her perfect upturned feet. He had tickled many pretty feet in his time but these were something else. High arches. Flawless toe stems and such soft pretty toes. He could wait no longer. He simply rested both sets of fingers on either sole and gave a brief squiggle which prompted a howl of laughter. The look of pure mirth on her face was completely at odds with the fireworks going off in her brain.
A second later, he re-appeared at the window and dropped two balled up socks down onto the dusty ground.
Out of view of the crowd who were looking up to the window, the bearded one had picked up his famed tickle stick. Even though appearing to be casually leaning on the wooden frame of the window his hand steered the stick – with it’s stiff feathers and bristles adorning it, onto the bare sole of the giddy Jane.
“OHH-GAHAHAHAHA-NO-HOHOHO-DON’T!! IT’S GONE TOO FAHAHARRR!! PLEASE!! I’M BEGGING YOU!!!! I’MJUSTAVISITOR-hehe-hehehehehehhehehe-ehehehe!”
She fell into a fit of helpless giggles when the course bristles touched down.
“What’s the matter with our thief? I’m here at the window. I’m not even touching her!”
“ehehehehe------EHEHEHEHEH----you’reticklingmy-ehehehehehehhee!”
The tickle stick continued to meander all around her naked sole.
“STOP-THA-hahahahahahhahahahhaha!”
Jane was in the throes of tickled laughter.
“Thief, do you have any remorse?!” asked the bearded tickler.
Jane was floundering around and in a breathless kerfuffle. Squeaks and giggles and snickers tumbled out of her mouth one after the other. She was struggling to keep it together, but it was a hopeless battle.
Here she was upside down and dangling with her arms bundled up helplessly behind her head. She was being interrogated in a mock medieval dungeon for apparently thieving, whilst her now entirely bare and horrendously ticklish soles were being stalked by a relentless tickle stick.
It might’ve been a re-enacted performance for everyone else in the room but it was every bit as real as it could get for Jane.
“EH-hehehehe-STA-STOPIT!!-ehehehhehe-I’MNOTATHIEF!! Ehehhee”
“She seems to find this all rather amusing Sir!” Griff said.
“Does she indeed. The temerity of it!”
“AHAHA---PLEASE—NOMORE!! EHHEHE---ICAN’T!”
“Are you sorry for stealing?!” He grinned widely at the onlooking crowd and showed them the tickle stick briefly before setting it back upon her feet.
“EHEHHEE---YES-AAAAAAAHAHHA-IMSORRY!ohmygodSTOP!!!”
“Are you very sorry?!”
Tears of laughter were leaking from her eyes and she was giddily giggling, nodding desperately to agree that yes, she was very sorry for the fictional crime that she didn’t commit.
“Isn’t it remarkable what a bit of foot tickling can do, ladies and gentleman? Quite incredible how a grown woman can have as many layers of clothing on as she wants, but if her bare feet are exposed she’s the most vulnerable thing in the world…!”
He moved away from the window in the upper chamber and in moments Jane erupted in hysterics. She couldn’t even beg this time.
“AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA-AHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA-EHEHEHEHHEHE-AHAHHAHAHHA----------------------AHAHHAHAHAHAH-ehehehhe----OHMYGOD----ahhaa-----!”
“Tell our friends in the audience what just happened!” he prompted.
“PLEASE---ENOUGH!! HAHAHA----OHMY-ehhehehehe! Oh-go-hod---you tickled my feet with your fingers!”
“That’s right. I tickled your feet with the fingers of one hand for what…three seconds?! How will you manage when I do it for TEN?!” he said before skipping out of view again.
“NO!! WAIT!!! NOTTHIS---OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO-squealing-AAAAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA----ARHARHARHARHARHARHAR!!
Out of view, the bearded one’s hand scampered all over both feet, like a demented spider, grabbing roughly at her smooth soles. Criss-crossed at the ankles and tied ever-so-well, there wasn’t a thing she could do to avoid it. She could only howl.
“You’re a naughty girl aren’t you!! Tell everyone here that you’re a naughty girl!!”
“ehhhehehe-I’M-A-NAUGHTY-GIRL!”
“Have you learned your lesson?!”
“ohGODYES!! PLEASE!! I’ve learned my lesson!” she said, hoping he was being sincere.
“You do have THE prettiest soles I have ever seen though, Madam! And goodness me are they TICKLISH! I mean, ladies and gentlemen, watch what happens when I use just one set of fingers to tickle these feet!
“NOOOO-EHEH-ehhehehehe----ehehehe----oohohoohohoho----ahahhahha----heeeehhheeee------ENOUGH!!!---ehehhehehehe!”
He stopped after a little while to let her gain some level of lucidity before menacingly announcing….
“Now, ladies and gentleman, some REAL tickle torture for our self-confessed thief!”
Jane squealed in anticipation.
The bearded tormentor was finished with the playful stuff now. He used his index fingers as methodical tools, scratching softly but deliberately at her big toe pads one second, and then delving underneath and in between her plump toes the next. She guffawed one moment and howled the next. From the ankles downwards she sprang around like a trapped animal, but her ankles weren’t moving an inch, and nor were her helpless soles.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHHA-EHEHEHHEHEHHEHEH-I’M-AHHAHAHHAHA-THI-HEHEHEHEHEHEHE-CAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA-STOHO-HOHOHOHOPPP-------------ARHARHARHARHARHARHARHAR!!”
In between her howling bouts of laughter, a big, goofy involuntary smile was plastered over her face as she flailed around frantically. But where she expected to go was anyone’s guess. It was all reflex. A few times she managed to thrust her body upwards, but swiftly afterwards she’d fall back down into even harder laughter. It was quickly dawning on her that she could do nothing about her plight. Other than giggle. And snort. And laugh. Helplessly.
He stopped one last time before the final, most nefarious act.
“You may think that our thief has suffered enough. But Soledad was a ruthless exponent of the art of tickle torture. So much so, that he perfected his craft with certain tools. Thankfully these tools were recently found buried here in this very dungeon. I will be showing you their effectiveness in 10……9……8……!”
He slipped on the fiendish metallic fingertips as he counted down.
“7…..6……5!”
“NOHOHOHOHO!THISCAN’TBE!PLEASENOMORE!!”
“4……3……!”
Jane truly lost her mind with the dread of what was to come. Surely things weren’t going to get worse. She once again threw herself around as much as she physically could until little giggles and squeals emitted from her as the reality dawned on her.
“OHGODPLEASEHELP!ENOUGH!I’VEHADENOUGHPLEASE!!eehehe-THISISN’TRIGHT!!ahahaha!OHGOD…..!!
Then, as he counted down from two…..to one….. he turned his hands into claws and poked and grabbed at her pudgy toes and ticklish soles. Both at the same time. The first grabs ripped the breath out of poor Jane, emptying her lungs with a soundless cackle, but the incessant grab attacks that followed produced the most hysterical shrill laughter. It was as if electricity was passing through her body as the pitch of her laughter kept climbing and climbing. She simply could not stand it.
“AHAHAHAHAHA--------AHAAAAAAAA---HHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA!”
Tears spilled from her eyes as she howled and shrieked.
As the bearded tormentor poked and squiggled and wriggled those deadly pointed metallic fingertips all over those delightful, soft soles Jane laughed like a hyena. Her knees attempted to spring free but it was never going to happen. She laughed and cried and snorted, but the tickling never stopped. The bearded tormentor was drunk with the power that he held over her. The guards continued to mercilessly tease her, despite her hysterical state.
At some point, when those wretched metallic fingertips were delving into the undersides of her toes, Jane could simply stand it no more and she wet herself with a cry of cackling hysteria.
A few moments later, the bearded tormentor reached his own dramatic climax, making a mess of the inside of his robe.
The re-enactment was over. The audience excitedly filtered out, chattering away amongst one another.
Jane, a 43 year old married mother of two, who had intended on a casual stroll around a castle one afternoon had found herself the victim of a miscommunication. Amazingly, her only actual crime was to share the same first name and same colour fleece as a lady who was the actual intended ‘performer’.
A day that everyone in attendance would never forget.
Jane would never mention it.
nice job!
