A Tale Of Four Women (all */f tickling)

[UberTicklish1]

(As this story is very long I'm going to thread it in small sections.)

A Hysterical Historical
A collaboration written by UberTicklish and Mastertank1 of TMF

The First Raid, the coast of England

“Come now, child,” the mother superior said as she walked next to the new novice, “it is alright to speak, thou hath taken no vow of silence.”

Christine cast her grey eyes briefly at the nun. Then back down. She still said nothing, but a bright flush brightened her skin. Her mouth went dry. The mother superior sighed and walked alongside the novice in peace. There was simply no getting through the woman’s incredible shyness.

Christine was the child of an unremarkable knight. Though quite up there in age, she was still unmarried. Not for any lack of suitors. Even now in her advanced years of 29 summers, the woman still had men paying court to her.
She was a lush beauty with full curves, golden-red hair, and almond shaped grey eyes. She looked younger then she was at that. Her apple cheeks were always flushed pink.

No, it was her incurable shyness that kept her unwed, and her virtue. Tired of having to support their old maid of a daughter, her parents had bundled her up off to a convent, thinking that the life of a nun would suit the spinster.

The convent was sited on the coast. It had once been a nobleman’s castle. When he died childless it passed into the hands of the church, on the condition it was given to the same nuns who had assisted the lord’s mother during her final days. It was also where the church hid many of its treasures. After all, who would suspect nuns of hiding gold and jewels?

“Child,” the mother superior said as they now stood, watching the sea, “if thou do not learn to speak soon, you’ll no more make a good nun then you would have a wife. Thou must learn to stand on your own two feet, small as they are.”

For a moment Christine said nothing. Words seemed trapped in her throat. Then she managed to gurgle out a single word. “Raiders.”

Ships had landed. Vile barbarians swarmed out of them Vikings from the cold northern fjords. Both nuns turned to try and run away, but neither was built for running.

The mother superior was very old, and Christine was both plump and cursed with short legs. They were swiftly overtaken. The mother superior was knocked aside. Christine was grabbed up. She was too shy to even scream as she was carried back to the ship.

Later, aboard one of the ships, Christine found herself placed in front of the chieftain of the barbarian raiders. She made no sound, but blushed furiously as her novitiate robes were removed from her, forcing her to stand naked before the man.

Christine felt shame creeping over her entire body. A rough man who claimed to be a pagan doctor/priest examined her. Christine sobbed at the humiliating examination.

Until today she had never even seen her own naked body, washing herself while still wearing a shift. He declared her a virgin with her maidenhead still intact and “Almost abnormally tight.”

“Set her aside. Any who try to ruin her will be killed.” The chieftain said. Virgins always fetched a much higher price. Christine’s robes were put back on her and she found herself locked in a very clean space for someone who’s destiny was to be a slave.

It was the only enclosed space to be found on a Viking dragonship, under the rising curve of the sternpost. Silently, Christine sat on her sleeping pallet on the deck, praying, her fingers going over imaginary rosary beads.

Back at sea in the Dover strait, the squadron of war dragons divided. Six ships laden with gold, jewels, silver and costly fabrics, refined iron, copper and tin turned away to the northeast. They were returning to Norway with their booty.

The other four vessels were carrying slaves, and they turned west and rowed against the wind to clear Cape Finisterre in Brittany. They were far ranging rovers, and would sell the choicest of their cargo where the price would be highest.

The four ship flotilla cleared Finisterre and turned southwest. They crossed the gaping mouth of the Bay of Biscay, far beyond sight of land.
Christine and six other virgins shared the space below the sternpeak. Three were fellow nuns, the other two very young girls who not yet known a man. Despite the children’s need for comfort, Christine could not bring herself to speak, but the other, younger nuns filled in.

The flotilla raised Cape Ferrol, the most northwesterly corner of Spain. Clearing the land by a wide margin, they turned to a heading just eastward of due south. Able now to use the single great sail that each vessel could raise on it’s one mast, they sped down the Portuguese coast.

Once they had made enough southing, the land fell way to the westward. They turned west and ran before the wind, tying up to a dock in the port city of Cadiz in Moorish Spain with just two days of food and fresh water remaining on board.

The Moors of southern Spain had no fear of the Northmen. Moors knew that when Vikings entered their towns, it was to sell and buy goods, not to raid. This would hold true for a hundred more years before anything changed.
The least valuable slaves, strong backed young men and plain faced wenches fit only for drudgery, were sold to slavers near the docks. The coin gained was mostly used to replenish the vessels with water and food. Two of the ships were now empty of cargo, free for fighting if need be. The other two carried the valuable part of the cargo of slaves.

Rowing out of Cadiz and then southward a few leagues, the Vikings turned east again, hoisting their sails and speeding through the Straits of Gibraltar. Just west of Sicily the four ships loitered until nightfall, then sped through the narrows between Sicily and Tunisia under the full speed of sails and oars.
They were challenged by Libyan pirates out of Tripoli, but when the pair of Dragons with no cargo to protect turned right for them while the other pair kept on course, the pirates thought better of the matter. They sailed and rowed unmolested to Smyrna, the great Levantine slaving port.

There they were able to sell off the cargo at a high profit. The buyer was a slave caravaneer who would resell most of them in Ankara, capital of the Empire, for an even greater profit.

Christine, with the other virgins and slaves of highest value, was loaded into a wagon. Their tender feet would not be toughened by the long trek to Ankara; the less expensive human livestock walked.

Arriving in Ankara, Christine taken in hand by large, powerful women, bathed, fed, and given new clothing to wear, then they locked her away in cell. It was part of a long row of cells, on a secluded corridor reserved for bedslaves.

 

[UberTicklish1]

The Second Raid - Rostov-on-Don

Roxelana’s stomach churned as their boat made it’s way up the river. Her normally alabaster skin had a slight greenish cast, her dark green eyes filled with tears both from fear and grief. The 19 year old redheaded orphan shuddered in the boat as she looked behind, the tavern where she had grown up burning as the Turks vented frustration at not being able to follow them.

The Turkish army laying siege to Rostov-on-Don had sent out foraging parties. One of these had descended on the riverbank tavern where Roxelana had grown to womanhood. Somewhere in there was the body of the boy she had loved.

Once again her stomach rebelled. She had never liked boats much, preferring the land. Which is why, though she could have had her pick of the boatmen with her bountiful bust and wide, child birthing hips, she had taken a farmboy as her lover.

A farmboy now dead. Though her stomach churned, Roxelana applied her own strength, built up from years of serving at the tavern where she had been abandoned, to the oars. It looked like they might get away, when around the bend of the river ahead of them came a mighty river galley.

Unlike most vessels which plied the river, this was a seaworthy ship. She had twenty two-man oars per side, and the Archangel Banner of the Cossack nations flew from her stempost.

The Cossack vessel swept down upon the boatload of refugees, crushing the frail hull. The oarsmen backed water and fished out the ones who had value as slaves. The others were left to flounder their way to the near shore, where they would fall prey to the foraging Turks. The river Don was far too wide for them to swim to the eastern bank, not with the fierce current driving them rapidly downstream.

Roxelana was yanked aboard the vessel. She thought she would be ravished, but after looking her over, they simply placed her in a cabin. There, except for being given food and water periodically, she was mostly ignored. She would have a long time to get use to being on the water.

This was not a raiding expedition, but a trading voyage. The Cossacks were sailing to Turkey to sell products of the Russian steppes and forests. They were accompanied by their wives, whose presence protected Roxelana against rape.

The Cossacks’ seizure of the refugees was mere opportunism. Even a trading expedition of this rough and ready warrior society was always ready to reap a profit from the misfortunes of chance met strangers.

The Cossack ship cleared the mouth of the Don, rowed across the narrow Sea of Azov, and entered the Black Sea. The crew hoisted triangular sails on the ship’s two masts, and they sailed across the prevailing westerlies directly to Port Angora (the archaic name for Ankara), which served the nearby capital.

At the seaport, the Cossacks sold the ex-refugee slaves to a local slaver, who sent them up the winding royal road to Ankara in covered ox carts. There, Roxelana was stripped, bathed and dressed in new garments by large, muscled female guards.

She was placed in a cell on the bedslaves corridor. Roxelana was four cells down from Christine.

 

[UberTicklish1]

The Third Raid - Corsair out of Tunisia

“Come, Widow Archer,” the friar said, “we must continue on.”

Melisaunde Archer sighed, brushing some of her flaxen yellow hair out of her blue eyes. The slim but sweetly curved widow continued on as told. At times she regretted joining this pilgrimage. If it were not for the vows of chastity all in the group had taken, she didn’t think she’d like it much.

Thirty eight winters had passed since the birth of Melisaunde. On her 16th she was taken to wife by a local farmer, to a bed that was mostly cold.

She hadn’t grieved much when her passionless husband died. It was the death of their son that had broken her heart, leaving her with a daughter who married too soon herself, to a man much kinder then her late father had been.

The party of pilgrims, enroute from England to the Holy Land and Jerusalem, was on the great road along Italy’s Adriatic coast. They were only a day’s further march from the city of Brindisi, at the heel of the Italian boot.

When they got to Brindisi, they would take ship for the city of Acre in the Holy Land. They hoped to find a Genoan or Venetian vessel, because those city states had treaties with the Ottoman Sultan, and flew a special treaty flag which warned off the swarming corsairs of the eastern Mediterranean.

An enterprising Tunisian slaver, knowing that the pilgrim caravans might be placed beyond his grasp once they got to Brindisi, had a plan to circumvent the treaty. He instructed the corsair captains he employed to strike at the coastal highway just north of Brindisi.

Screams suddenly filled the air. Raiders had descended upon the pilgrims. The hired guards seized every horse in the caravan and fled. Taking her walking stick, Melisaunde bravely fought against the slavers, but found herself flung across the thwarts of a longboat.

She screamed and kicked her feet, and for this was struck upon the side of the head. The last thing she saw was stars before the blackness.

Melisaunde awoke to find herself on a Tunisian raiding bireme, a very swift vessel with two banks of oars per side, eighteen oars per bank, two men per oar, for a total of 144 rowers.

On board this vessel, Melisaunde found herself in a middling sized cabin, shared with three other women, all younger than herself. Two of these women had hair in varied shades of blonde, while the third was a redhead.

Melisaunde remembered that all of the other females among the pilgrims had black or brown hair. It was perhaps the least of the many things she wondered at in her daily meditations.

The swift bireme rapidly passed through the many islands of the Aegean Sea, sped through the straits called the Bosporus, and landed it’s cargo of prime, northern European slaves at the Istanbul docks. The four light hairs were placed in a swift coach, and driven to Ankara.

As had been done to Christine and Roxelana, Melisaunde was stripped, bathed and reclothed by female guards. She was placed in a cell in bedslaves corridor, three cells beyond Roxelana on the side away from Christine.

 

[UberTicklish1]

The Final Raid - Buda-Pesth

The Hungarian Royal Court had felt safe and secure behind the mighty walls of the twin capital cities of Buda and Pesth. When the Turkish army had driven the Hungarian army from the field, and forced it to take cover inside those walls, the King and all his people had laughed at the thought of a siege.

Why, the two cities had more water than they needed. The undamable Danube ran right through the Urb! As for food supplies, they were provisioned for ten years. Long before hunger struck, the armies of the rest of the Hapsburg realms would converge on the area to drive the Turks away.

This complacency had lasted for all of six weeks. That was when the brand new Ottoman Siege Artillery corps had made its’ second battlefield appearance. The first had been at the siege of Constantinople. The result? Well, as a song of the far future would run;

“You can’t go back to Constantinople,
‘cause it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople,
‘cause it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople,
anymore!” (Note: deliberate anachronism here.)

The Hungarians had known about the huge cannons, but thought themselves safe. The monster guns had been brought up to the old Byzantine capital by sea, carried on big ships. The Hungarians believed that those big, slow ships could never fight their way up the length of the Danube against the strong Christian Kingdoms and powerful castles on both banks.

They were right about that. They had also assumed that artillery that big could not be moved far enough over land to endanger them. On that one, they were quite wrong.

Once the big guns were on the scene, it took three more weeks to get them set up in proper batteries. After that, the walls were breached after five days of pounding. By the end of the twelfth week, the walls had been flattened along the entire south sides of both cities by the bombardment of 900 and 1100 pound stone cannonballs. Then the deadly Jannissary infantry came swarming in.

A lifetime of luxury had not prepared Estania for fighting and running. Though a highly trained courtesan in all other respects, fighting to defend herself had not been part of the 24 year olds’ schooling.

She could speak 14 languages, perform basic medical procedures, even cosmetic ones such as hair removal. She knew sugaring and stringing, ways to remove hair by the roots so it would take weeks to grow back.

But fighting - no, the most she knew was how to strike against a man’s most vulnerable parts, and only because she had once had a lover who enjoyed such pain. So when a hand had grabbed her by her waist length dark brown and gold hair, she had not been able to fight back.

The General of the Turkish army which had conquered her home had all captives brought before him. He took one look at Estania, her dark hair with golden highlights, her warm brown eyes, the sweet curves of her large bust and wide hips, and chose her for his own.

When Estania arrived at the general’s home in Ankara, his wife had other ideas. She also took one look at this short woman before her and formulated a plan in her mind to be rid of the wench. Estania ended up two cells up from Christine in the bedslaves corridor.

 

[UberTicklish1]

The Slave Auction

The main bidding room of the auction hall was almost full, but the auctioneer did not yet dare to begin. The greatest military commander in the empire’s history, Mikal Bey, had sent word that he would attend. They would for him as long as they had to, unless the Sultan himself turned up.

Mikal Bey is the King of a powerful Kurdish tribe which has never acknowledged the overlordship of the Sultan in Ankara, nor adopted the Islamic faith; they are still pagans. His realm lies in the mountain fastnesses of the modern border region between Turkey and Iran. He regards the Sultan as his ally and equal, not his ruler; the Sultan finds it expedient not to press the point, because Mikal’s mountain fortress is impregnable, given the best weapons available in that era.

Mikal is 42, hale and powerful, renowned throughout the Ottoman Empire as it’s greatest individual fighter, as well as its finest tactician and strategist. He is also renowned for his carnal appetites; it is said that he eats, drinks, and ruts enough to satiate a dozen normal men. He positively adores tickling women; he loves the sounds and movements of a woman being tickled beyond her endurance, and yet unable to escape.
At 6’1” he is a giant for his time and place. The mighty Yataghan sword he wields in battle is so large a normal man cannot even lift it. His leonine mane of shoulder length hair is glossy black shot with streaks of silver, as are his sweeping moustache and his wide, full, silky, breastbone length beard. His flashing brown eyes seem to be lit with a lustful fire from within.

His weight is a lean, solid 270 pounds, his shoulders are startlingly wide, his limbs amazingly thick, his chest incredibly deep. He is a moving, granite mountain of a man. His ruddy complexion has been burned dark by decades of sun and wind wherever not hidden by clothing.

And yet his touch, when soothing a frightened child, gentling a spooked horse, petting a favorite hunting hound or caressing a woman, can be amazingly gentle. He is universally regarded and beloved as the father of his people, any of whom would kill or die for him without a second thought. This is the man who will purchase, break, and ultimately conquer the hearts and souls, as well as the bodies and minds, of our four lovely protagonists.

Mikal entered the great hall, followed by eight tall, lean, rangy hillmen of the Ilbarsz badlands. He made his way to the center of the front row and took his place cross legged on a plump cushion. His men crouched around him, alert for any threat.

Mikal sat quietly, keenly observing as the ordinary lots were sold off. The unskilled labor were sold in lots of twoscore. The semiskilled by the dozen. The skilled, such as barbers, physicians, or herbalists went as individuals. Mikal bought one each of the last three, as well as an architect and a master builder.

In each case he waited until the bidding was down to the final call, then placed a bid 50 Dinars higher, letting the former high bidder know that he could not hope to win.

The next to last were the common bedslaves, mostly sold by the half dozen to brothel keepers in the capital. During a pause after the last of those lots, a man came out of the backstage areas of the auction hall and sat on a still vacant cushion beside Mikal. Mikal nodded; “Isfhan?” He said, on a questioning note.

“Four, my liege.”

“Excellent. As are these seed cakes. Do try some, along with the tea.”

Isfhan was Mikal’s trusted friend and steward. Mikal had sent him to inspect the specials, to see if there were any he Mikal would want to bid for. Isfhan knew well what Mikal liked, and the four Isfhan had mentally marked down had been tested by Isfhan’s own hand. All four had in abundance the one quality above all which Mikal required in his bedslaves; ticklishness.

Mikal sat quietly watching the auction until Melisaunde was brought out. As soon as she appeared on the platform, Isfhan whispered “One.” in the ear of his friend and master Mikal.

Melisaunde was disrobed, and led around the edge of the platform by the leash affixed to her slave collar. The auctioneer called the attention of the assembled buyers to all of Melisaunde’s “good points”, chief among which was the fact that color of the hair on her head matched that of her pubic hair, taken as proof that she was a natural blonde, with no artifice involved.

Melisaunde had never been exposed naked before men; she blushed deeply in embarrassment. This increased her value in the eyes of the buyers. Never before in her life had she felt the gaze of men who lusted to own her. Never had she had the sense that men found her desirable, even perhaps beautiful.

It was a heady feeling, if frightening. It was soon to grow. The highly intelligent Melisaunde had now been three months in the company of Turks, and had picked up a smattering of the language. She was startled to hear the bidding beginning at 400 Dinars. That was like 200 pounds sterling! How could anyone possibly think her worth that much?

When the bidding began, she was utterly shocked. Of the just over 200 men present, more than 60 were shouting and gesturing to bid for her! This was amazing, impossible. Despite herself, Melisaunde found herself smiling a little when she heard the bids, which had gone up in 5 Dinar increments, start leveling out at the level of 800 Dinars.

The very thought! Me, Melisaunde, with a value of greater than 400 pounds! Why, that was the worth of a minor knight’s estate!

As the auctioneer started his final chant of “Going once....” Mikal, who sat silent, raised his right arm and said; “900 Dinars.”

Everyone present, including Melisaunde, gasped. This was a clear signal that Mikal meant to have this woman, and would not be outbid.

A man at the far side of the crowd raised his arm and began to draw a breath, but Mikal cut him off. In a very flat, deadly tone of voice, Mikal said; “That man is a house shill. He is here to place false bids to drive up the price. If, by mistake, he gets stuck with high bid, he withdraws it. He never buys anything. If he dares attempt his chicanery with me, I will have one of my hillmen take his head. We will cure it in brine, and use it for a ball when we next play Buzkashi!”

(Buzkashi is an actual game, like a cross between soccer and polo, still played in the 21st century by mountain and hill tribes from Afghanistan westward to eastern Turkey. In peacetime, the ‘ball’ is a brine pickled goat carcass. When available, the head of an enemy, similarly pickled, is preferred.)

The man rose and hastily departed the premises. Mikal turned his gimlet eyed gaze on the auction house owner; “Abbassay; I know all your shills. You still have four in this crowd. Send them all away. If one of them takes any part in the remaining proceedings, all their heads, and yours, shall ride to the mountains with me in the brine barrels!”

Abbassay nodded, and four other men rose and left. A legitimate bidder, apparently testing the dangerous looking waters, tentatively bid 905 for Melisaunde. Mikal, in a perfectly calm and equable tone, bid 950. The other bidder, gazing with longing at Melisaunde’s blonde hair, said 960. When Mikal went to 1000 Dinars, the other man inclined his head in acknowledgement of defeat.

Melisaunde gazed searchingly at the man who had purchased her. On his handsome features she read nothing but satisfaction. 500 pounds to own her, and he feels satisfaction? Despite herself, she somehow found that knowledge warming.

Seven more ‘ non-virgin lighthairs’ were auctioned, and then it was Estania’s turn on the block. Estania was quite irrepressible. Despite the auctioneer’s attempts to contain her exuberance, Estania persisted in showing herself off!
Isfhan whispered “Two.” To Mikal.

The bidding for Estania was started at 500 Dinars, to her annoyance, and rapidly went up by 10 Dinar jumps. She seemed happier, until the bids faltered and slowed down at 1200. Mikal then bid 1300. A moments quiet, then three men in rapid succession took the price up to 1310, 1320, 1330. Mikal bid 1400. One man ventured 1410, and Mikal instantly came back with 1500. That was the final bid. Estania stared speculatively at Mikal as she was led away.

Five sales later, the last of the ‘non-virgin lighthairs’ Roxelana, was brought out. Roxelana was magnificent in her nudity, statuesque and athletic. She tried to refuse to be ‘put through her paces’ but sharp, stinging, skin-reddening snaps of a flat leather slapper compelled her to comply. Isfhan whispered “Three.” To Mikal. Mikal smiled.

The bidding was started at 800 Dinars and went up by 20 Dinar jumps to 1600. Mikal stated, in a conversational tone, “2000 Dinars.” And that was that. Roxelana could sense that the man who had bought her was top dog in this mangy pack, and she nodded as she went off the platform.

Abbassay announced; “The rest are all virgins.”

The attention of all present was focused. The first one brought out was Christine, the eldest and therefore least valuable virgin, but her beauty transcended her age. Isfhan whispered “Four.” Mikal nodded.

When they stripped her, Christine was mortified. Her eyes were cast down at the floor. When Abbassay forced her head up, she closed her eyes tightly. Although Christine did not speak the language, the tone of the ribald comments were clear enough. Tears forced their way from under her tightly closed eyelids. She sobbed in embarrassment.

Mikal, unmistakably angry, barked; “ENOUGH! CLOTHE HER, NOW!!”

The loud, ringing shout caused Christine to open her for a moment, just enough to see the man who had shouted nod in satisfaction as her clothes were restored to her. Despite herself, she felt a flash of gratitude.

The bidding was opened at 1200 Dinars for Christine. It proceeded falteringly, other bidders hesitant to speak in the face of Mikal’s clearly evident interest. Abbassay was looking mutinous, but fearful of protesting that he would lose money because of Mikal’s outburst. Then Mikal, quite matter of factly, bid 3000 Dinars.

That ended that. Abbassay had a broad, beaming smile on his avarice lined face. Christine’s public humiliation was ended, as she was cloaked and hustled off to join the other three women in Mikal’s road carriage.

Mikal rose and left the room, causing Abbassay to sigh in relief. When the five shills attempted to enter the hall again, they were met with a concerted look of hostility. Quailing, they all turned and left.

Mikal and his troopers joined the rest of his caravan, waiting outside. They all departed up the great east road, headed for Mikal’s impregnable mountain fortress, The Hawk’s Roost.

 

[UberTicklish1]

After The Auction

The four women found themselves chained together. All had been recently bathed and one of the four, Estania had been put to work, using her skills to remove unwanted hair.

She had spread sticky stuff on the legs and armpits of each one of them, and ripped out the hairs. With string she had eliminated monobrows and thinned out the eyebrows so they did not look so wild. She had also given each of them a pedicure, two having feet hard with calluses, testament to their harder lives, the quietest one already having soft feet.

Estania had found out the names of two of her fellow slaves. Roxelana and Melisaunde had no problem speaking. The other, however, simply blushed with shame and turned away, hiding behind her rose-gold colored hair. The other two shared their stories, the last just curling up in a ball and whispering soft Hail Marys while her fingers went over imaginary beads.

All four had found themselves on an auction block with many other women, mostly young. Melisaunde was possibly the oldest there. Only Estania had understood what was being said. They were being sold as bedslaves.

The four of them had all been sold to one man. Out of them all, it was the shy one who had been the most pawed over, the most highly bid for. Estania had known it was because of her status as a virgin. A woman with an intact maidenhead always fetched a higher price. Why, Estania never understood. Men were strange creatures.

Now all four found themselves in the main hall of a fortress, awaiting inspection by their new master. Only three of the four looked straight ahead.

Roxelana wore a look of defiance, Melisaunde a look of reluctant acceptance. Estania had a look of practiced sultry seduction. The silent one looked only at the floor.

So it was only three who saw the man who appeared before them. He was tall, even for a man he was tall. Broad of shoulder and chest, his face so handsome even Estania found herself unable to breathe.

His eyes scanned over his four newest future concubines. With a surprisingly gentle touch he reached out and stroked the face of each of the first three in turn. He smiled as he tickled each under the chin or along the ear and found them giggling and trying to pull away.

With the silent one he placed a firm hand under her chin and gently pulled her head up. Even still she kept her eyes downcast.

“Look at me,” he gently ordered, to the women’s surprise in English, with his other hand tickling her along the right side of her neck, “Come now, giggling one, look at your master Mikal.”

Finally she raised her eyes, a smile twitching her lips as he softly tickled her, but her eyes filled with fear. As soon as she looked up she closed her eyes and refused to open them.

Mikal stopped his tickling. “What is your name, quiet one?”

“Christine,” she whispered, so softly only Melisaunde, standing next to her, could hear. A blush filled her face.

Like earlier today when the brazen brunette had been cleaning her feet, Christine felt sinful things after the neck tickling. As the chains fell away, Estania felt a bit cruel. It wasn’t that she had anything against virgins, in fact, some of her best times had been training young virgins of both sexes in the fine arts of loving before their weddings.

No, it was just that she was used to being the center of attention. Purring, she came forward and pressed herself against Mikal. “Master, the maiden is obviously frightened because she is still intact below. In fact, the auctioneer said she was so tight that even the most under endowed man would find her hard to enter. I can prepare her for thee - and of course if it’s thy wish thou mayst watch.”

For the first time Christine realized what her fate was. Or rather, she could no longer live in denial of it. Her grey eyes flew open wide and she turned as white as a sheet. “Nay! Nay ye shall not deflower me! I am promised to Christ alone! I shall die by mine own hand first!”

With that she turned, looking to flee. She had made about 20 steps when an over enthusiastic new recruit grabbed her and back handed her across the mouth, sending her to the floor. A roar erupted out of Mikal and, pulling forth a sword so massive it would take two normal men to wield it, he sliced off the head of the recruit.

The other men just stepped forward and began to clean up. They knew well that no one mistreated a woman in Mikal’s presence.

Melisaunde now dashed forward and gathered the crying Christine in her arms, stroking her hair and rocking her. “‘Tis alright.” She whispered over and over again.

Guilt drove Estania forward. She had only meant to gather all the attention onto herself. She longed to taste this massive man. Now, however, she called for medicinal herbs, looking to tend to Christine’s face. “‘Tis not so bad. It shall heal in a day or so.”

Roxelana stood where she was, swallowing hard, she looked at Mikal when he looked back at her. “I am with her,” she said, pointing to Christine, “you shall not have me.”

These brutes were responsible for the death of one of the kindest men ever, she would not submit to this vulgar heathen. Mikal merely stood pondering. He knew he would have to take each one separately before he could enjoy the pleasure of them all together.

He had just been trying to decide which one. The brazen Estania was the one most in need of breaking, for she no doubt was used to being the one in control. He could not have that.

Melisaunde had looked at him with such utter resignation he could tell that she had already given in, but she needed to learn to take pleasure. Christine was so shy and skittish he knew it would take a lot of work with her.

Perhaps by indulging her desire to not look anyone in the eye. Blindfolding her so she would be forced to rely on him and get use to his touch.

But tonight it would be none of the three. Instead he motioned for his men to lead them to the harem room. Then he turned to the defiant redhead and swept her into his arms.
Roxelana was shocked, not at the massive man’s strength, but at her own reaction. She suddenly felt very safe and comfortable in his arms. Instinctively snuggling into him though she meant to fight, to resist as she had said she would.

As the other three were led away, all could not help but wondering how long before they shared Roxelana’s fate - whatever it was to be. Estania with a deep longing, Melisaunde with a quiet contemplation, and Christine with utter dread.

 

[UberTicklish1]

The Subduction of Roxelana (subduction = subduing + seduction)

The room Mikal took Roxelana into was equipped with a variety of devices for the secure but comfortable restraint of women. Mikal opened a drawer built into the wall, withdrew a device, and deposited Roxelana face down on a large bed. He untied the fastenings of her harem slave garment, leaving her naked on the bed.

The device was deceptively simple in appearance. It was only a straight iron strap, covered in leather, with four leather cuffs of adjustable size attached at different points. The two slightly larger cuffs were on one flat side of the strap, right at the two ends. The two slightly smaller cuffs were on the opposite flat side of the strap, and closer to the middle although still a good six inches from each other.

Mikal turned the device so that the smaller cuffs were under the strap, the larger cuffs above. He fastened Roxelana’s wrists into the smaller cuffs, just above the upper curves of her shapely buttocks. Then, Mikal bent Roxelana’s legs at the knees and fastened her shapely ankles into the larger cuffs.

Roxelana made quite a lovely sight, with her lovely body bent like an archer’s bow. She was balanced on her firm belly, rocking slightly back and forth as she futilely struggled with the strong leather straps.

Mikal seized Roxelana by her hips, and turned her over so that her weight rested on her shoulders and shins. The softness of the bed prevented this from being uncomfortable for her.

Mikal thoughtfully placed a pillow under Roxelana’s shoulders, raising them up so her neck was not forced forward. Then with a wicked grin, he reached out to open the top drawer of a bedside night table, and drew forth a pair of hawk feathers.

The feathers were about ten inches long, about two inches wide, with blunt, slightly rounded tips. Mikal showed them to Roxelana, who was confused. Then, Mikal stroked the tip of one feather across the surface of her upwardly arched belly.

The feather’s first touch had her instantly giggling and writhing. Roxelana was shocked to discover how ticklish she was! For the next few minutes, the feather slowly explored the contours of her belly. She kept giggling louder and struggling more violently.

Damnit, this was so frustrating! She didn’t want to giggle and squirm for this man! She wanted to yell curses and scream insults, and stay perfectly still to deny him as much satisfaction as possible!

The feather made that quite impossible. Roxelana was far, far too ticklish for any resistance at all. As long as that feather kept moving across her soft skin, Roxelana had no options. She had to giggle. She had to squirm. Her body ignored her commands to do otherwise.

Then things got worse, as the first feather was joined by the second. Now there were two feathers wandering over Roxelana’s defenseless belly, teasing irresistibly. She kept giggling louder and harder. She was wiggling and wriggling more violently. But now, she felt something new.

The new feeling was both embarrassing and infuriating. It was, thought Roxelana, entirely wrong for her to feel such a thing under these circumstances. Roxelana was becoming aroused!

The soft, insistent, teasing caress of the feathers refused to allow her to ignore it. Her nipples began to rise first. A short while later, as she giggled more than ever, her labia started to enlarge. As the tickling went on, Roxelana could feel herself growing damp down there, between her legs.

The feathers now enlarged the area they were exploring. She felt them grazing her chest, then teasing her neck, then her throat. It was such a wild, out of control feeling! And just at the moment so very unwelcome!

The feathers glided down to her thighs and began to examine her there. They seemed to be trying to find the most sensitively responsive places on her gorgeous legs. They were succeeding!

The touch of the feathers on Roxelana’s inner thighs was the most agitating. Each stroke along those tender expanses sent her arousal spiraling upward. After a few minutes of this new tickle-tease, Roxelana was dismayed to realize that her nipples and labia were both half erect and her dampness had grown into moistness.

It tickled so much! She was giggling so loudly she startled herself. In between bouts of giggling Roxelana managed to shout; “Let me stop giggling, God damn you!”

Mikal was amused. “You would like me to stop making you giggle? Alright my dear. Let’s try this.”

Mikal abruptly moved the feathers from Roxelana’s thighs to her breasts. The girl’s breasts were far more ticklish than her thighs; she was no longer giggling. Now Roxelana was helplessly laughing!

Roxelana’s dismay at being forced to laugh this way was compounded as her nipples rapidly rose to full erection, followed by her labia. Her moisture became wetness.

With a shock, Roxelana recognized her body’s condition; this was the way she behaved when she was ready for her beloved to enter her! This was so wrong! But she seemed not to have any choice. Her own young, vital body betrayed her.

In spite of the fact that the touch of the feathers was maddening torture, her body insisted that these novel sensations were pleasure. Despite her own will power to the contrary, Roxelana’s body was asking for more!

Mikal shifted his tickling assault upon Roxelana’s senses to her curvaceous flanks. She found herself laughing harder than ever. The feather strokes up and down her sides tickled amazingly. Oh, how she laughed!

These touches did not increase her already uncomfortable arousal, but neither did they allow it to decrease at all. And she hated the way the feathers forced her body to move against her will!

Mikal stroked her in one place, she arched to the right. Touched in another place, she twisted to the left. At Mikal’s unspoken commands, conveyed through the feathers, she bucked, writhed and heaved like a puppet on strings!

The sense of helplessness was so overwhelming! And dammit, the helplessness was increasing her arousal! How could this be? It was so humiliating!

In spite of her self, Roxelana knew that if, when, Mikal entered her she would be ready. She knew that her body would respond to his maleness with pleasure and climax, betraying her memory of Grigory, her dead farmboy lover. It would be far worse than that.

Far worse, and unimaginably better. Mikal moved the feathers up her sides, and began drawing ovals around the outer edges of Roxelana’s armpits. Her sweet laughter stepped up a notch.

After gliding around and around on her underarms’ edges, provoking the loudest and wildest laughter yet, Mikal swept the feathers into the depths of those sensitive nooks. Roxelana was desperate! She could not endure any more! Yet she would.

Every fiber of Roxelana’s luscious body was convulsing with the intensity of her laughter. Her mind was beginning to shut down. Her body was left to respond on an animal level, her mind a mere spectator along for the wild ride.

Mikal was very experienced. Mikal could tell. Now, he would break this young beauty with pleasure she could not resist. It was time.

Mikal put down the feathers and started to tickle Roxelana with his fingers. He moved them all over her lovely torso. He savored the textures of her skin and the muscles beneath. He explored her belly muscles, her rib bones, her sleek fleshy flanks, her wonderful soft breasts, and her deep, tender, recently depilated underarms.

Poor Roxelana could make no response except laughter, and steadily growing arousal. She had thought she was at a peak of readiness under the kiss of the feathers, but Mikal’s hands brought her a revelation of sexual need as they teased her and teased her.

The best Roxelana had ever known was readiness for entry, and sometimes, perhaps once in three times, her farmer would give her a small climax before he was done. Now, under Mikal’s skilled, tickling fingers and palms, she experienced active desire for the very first time.


Mikal leaned forward and started to nibble and lick Roxelana’s distended, hypersensitive nipples. Her laughter was punctuated by sweet, happy screams as his fingertips sought out the tenderest spots in her armpits while his mouth pleasure tickled her nipples.

Then he was kissing her wide open mouth while she laughed, and his fingers were tickling her breasts. It was unbearable! It was wonderful! She couldn’t stand it! She couldn’t get enough of it! Roxelana’s desire turned to need!

Yes! She not only wanted, she needed a climax! She wanted to beg him to grant her an orgasm, but she could not force a word out through the constant peals of laughter.

But Mikal was adept at reading the body of a woman. He shoved himself down on the bed, and his skilled mouth was suddenly nibbling and licking her womanhood! Grigory had never done this! Roxelana had never even heard of this! She was screaming and gasping with pleasure. She loved how this felt, but the image of Grigory’s dead, blood-soaked body was holding her back.

Then Mikal’s fingers were teasing her soft, tender, pedicured feet. Roxelana exploded with vast, body racking guffaws for five minutes. The image of the farmer was gone from her mind, there was nothing but delicious sensation. She came, in a huge flood of pleasure and wonderful release.

Roxelana lay gasping, not unhappy, believing her ordeal was over, she started to relax. Then Mikal began tickling her feet again. Oh GOD it tickled so bad! She was roaring with untrammeled laughter, and now Mikal’s lips were all over her pussy again, and she felt herself climax again, even bigger and better than the last one. And then Mikal did it again, and again, and again.

It was simply not possible, Roxelana thought. This kind of pleasure just didn’t exist! Then came the trick Mikal had been setting her up for; he brought Roxelana right to the edge of what be her sixth climax, then took his mouth away and increased the speed of the fingertips tickling her feet.

He was driving her mad! Oh, she needed to climax! She needed it so much!
Mikal kept on increasing Roxelana’s tormenting need, bringing her right to the edge and then denying her. Finally, Roxelana’s resistance broke. She needed to feel him inside her sooooo much!

Mikal eased off the tickling, deliberately letting her speak. Roxelana, still uncontrollably laughing, brokenly gasped out her heartfelt plea between peals of laughter. “Please hahaha my lord hahaha please! Take meheheheee! Please Mikal! Hahahaha! I neeheeheed youhoohoohoo insihihide meeee eeeee!”

“Ah, well, if that’s what you want?”

“Yes hahaha pleeeeeeheeeze! Hahaha! Take mee! Eeeeee!”

Mikal stopped his wicked teasing and tickling. He seized Roxelana by the hips and whirled her up above himself while he flopped himself down on his back. For the first time Roxelana saw the massive erection Mikal had. He saw where her gaze was directed and smiled at her. “Yes Roxelana; that is for you. All for you.” Despite herself, Roxelana smiled and licked her lips in anticipation.

As Mikal lowered her onto himself, Roxelana hissed in pleasure. It felt so incredibly good! Oh, yes! She wasn’t sure if she were exclaiming aloud or within her own mind, but Mikal was filling her, touching her inside in places where Grigory never had, and it felt SO WONDERFUL!!!!

Then she was resting on his massive chest and corded, muscular belly. Even that felt good to her now. She was unselfconsciously rocking herself back and forth, trying to attain completion. Roxelana noticed Mikal’s massive arms reaching back over her shoulders and back towards her waist.

Then he was tickling her feet again! Oh, NOOOOO!!! She exploded again into uncontrolled mirth. Her whole body writhed in delight as she laughed! She could feel that orgasm building and knew it would be the best yet! Somehow, even the torturous foot tickling felt good now!

Then Mikal’s fingertips danced all around and between her toes, and she came like a mini volcano. Followed by an earthquake. Followed by aftershocks. All while still helplessly laughing.

Then she was building again, and his fingertips went from her toes to her arches. It drove her entirely wild! Then Roxelana felt Mikal creating his own volcanic lava flow deep in her womanhood, and then she was climaxing one more time, better than ever. And all WHILE STILL LAUGHING!

And then it was finally over. He opened the cuffs and tossed the bondage bar aside. As her stressed limbs relaxed, Mikal gathered her up against his warm, solid masculinity in the deliberately chilly chamber. Mikal gestured, and the silent, never noticed house slaves extinguished the lamps.

As she fell asleep in Mikal’s arms, Roxelana was oddly unsurprised to realize that the slow, quiet tears in her eyes were from happiness. Despite his irresistible forcefulness, Mikal had been gentler than poor, unskilled, and now dead Grigory. And Mikal had given her so much more! Pleasure and joy, and, yes, despite, or because of her utter defenselessness with him, security and safety.

Just before falling asleep, with a flash of defiance, Roxelana thought; “Yes. I have fallen in love with Mikal. So what? Burn me if I care.”

 

[UberTicklish1]

Breaking Christine - Part One

Despite Melisaunde's attempts to comfort Christine, the novice absolutely refused to join the other harem members in their communal bath. Especially since Estania kept offering to relieve her of her maidenhead and "prepare her for Mikal."

Christine wanted nothing to do with the act of sex in any of its forms. Unlike other young women of her rank, she had slept in a room next to her parents. Every night she had heard her mother's whimpers and cries of pain as her father rutted on top of her. Not to mention the bruises both on her mother and the castle's maids after her father had his way with them.

No, though suicide was a sin, Christine had made up her mind to die by her own hand. God would understand and forgive. Better to take her own life then let some man – or woman - take her maidenhead! She washed herself in private, wearing her shift, refusing to look at her nude body or touch it longer then necessary to get herself clean.

As she wrung out the cloth she washed herself with, something fell over her eyes, cutting out all sight. Christine tried to pry it away but whoever held it was much too strong to pull it away from as he or she tied it. A pair of very strong arms wrapped around Christine, pinning her arms to her side. She knew now it was Mikal, the man who would deflower her like some common harlot, who had blindfolded her.

She quaked, her entire body filled with panic. Yet his hold was not so tight as to be physically uncomfortable. Gently he moved his arms down until he had taken her small wrists in his massive hands and moved them behind her. Leather cuffs were placed around them. He did this with such a delicate touch, as if he was handling the most fragile thing on earth. Perhaps in a way, he was. With Christine now totally dependant on him, Mikal began to gently stroke her hair. Releasing it from it's braid and softly running his fingers through the thick red-gold locks.

"It's alright, pretty one," he whispered, "I will not take your maidenhead until thee are ready to take me willingly."

In a soft, quavering voice, Christine replied, "Then ye shall never have it. I tell thee I shall die first."

Mikal ran his lips over the right side of her neck. "Die of pleasure, mayhap. I shall not let thee harm thyself anymore then I would let another harm thee."

With a tender caress, he touched the injured side of her face where she had been struck. "Never again."

Now he gently turned her around, unable to resist tickling her under the chin, along the throat, and even behind the ears. She squirmed and tried to get away, but he would not allow her to. Instead he cooed to her, told her she was so pretty when she smiled, that her laughter was like music, sweeter then wine.

Still moving gently, he tore the straps that held her shift about herself. A blush covered her entire body and Mikal knew that he had possibly pushed her too far too soon, however he simply led her to the large ornate tub where the harem bathed. She resisted, but though he was gentle still, he was much stronger then she and it didn't take much effort on his part to get her to move.

Mikal took Christine down the steps, entering the water himself. "Fear not, my Christine. I simply wish to bathe thy beautiful body."

Using soothing movements and sounds that he had known to calm the wildest of
animals, he washed Christine. Her voluptuous body responded to the pleasure of his touch even while her mind denied it. Somehow, even when his hands washed her forbidden, sinful zones, Christine knew she could trust him to keep his word and not ravish her. She even relaxed enough to giggle and even laugh as he washed her armpits, belly, and feet. Though there were other areas just as ticklish, if not more so, these seemed to be the only ones he purposely tickled.

Not much, just brief tickles. Mikal knew it was too soon to give her the intense tickling she would eventually crave. So he stole a few seconds here, a brief tickle there. He washed her hair last, massaging her scalp. This caused her to relax much more.

When he was through he dried her and wrapped her in a long length of silk.
He could see she felt much more comfortable clothed, though her arms were still bare and the silk clung to her curves. Mikal had to resist the urge to tickle her, for he knew well that the smoothness of silk could increase the ticklishness of a woman. Instead he sat her in a chair and placed soft slippers on her feet. Then picked her up in his arms. He could feel her stiffen again, but cooed to her until she relaxed, though it wasn't by much. He carried her to another room. He placed her in a chair. He sat near her. He placed a bit of food against her lips.

Her mouth opened and accepted it for she was very hungry. Lovingly, he fed her, placed a goblet of wine to her lips. Telling her how she was safe with him. He would stroke her still damp hair, lovingly rub a bare shoulder or arm.

When the meal was done, Mikal released Christine of her bondage and withdrew from the room so she might don a modest dress he had left for her. There was still much to do for even as she walked alongside him back to the harem room, she refused to meet his gaze for more then a few brief seconds. Yet she didn't totally flinch from his touch. In the harem room he pressed his lips to her forehead. Then Mikal turned his gaze to Estania.

Holding out a single hand, he silently commanded her. She came forward and took his hand, putting one of his fingers in her mouth and gently sucking it, swirling her tongue about it, showing off her skills. Gently he took her hair and softly pulled her mouth away, making her look him in the eyes.

"I am the master here, Estania. Tonight ye shall learn this."

Then, to illustrate his point, he caught her up and placed her over his shoulder, his massive hand firmly against her rounded butt, the pinky moving down to press against her womanhood briefly. A promise of things to come.

Preparing Christine

While Estania suffered delightful tortures, Melisaunde and Christine sat together,
watching the other harem members. They were playing a game. Roxelana had been blindfolded and was trying to catch the others. They would run up behind the redhead and tickle her for brief moments. Then dance out of the way of the
redheads' questing hands. When she tripped over some pillows, the other women were on her in an orgy of tickling fingers.

Blushing furiously, Christine turned away and tried to ignore the feelings even seeing the tickling brought up in her. Melisaunde rubbed her shoulders. "'Tis alright, child. Ye said he did not ravish thee...." The motherly woman was trying to bring Christine back to the conversation at hand.

"Nay." Christine whispered. "Oh but Melisaunde, part of me wanted him to! Especially when he tickled me. Yet I fear it like nothing else."

"‘Tis nothing child. After the maidenhead is gone and healed then it is simply a few minutes of uncomfortable rutting and he will be done. He is a man, after all. Ye might as well reconcile your mind to the fact it will eventually happen."

"But ye are a pilgrim! A partaker of the Holy Journey, how can ye talk like this?"
Christine asked, shocked.

"Bah," Melisaunde snorted. "I am no more holy or unholy then the next woman. ‘Twas just a way to avoid remarriage and more senseless rutting."

As they spoke and Roxelana, as well as others behind them, shrieked with laughter, a wizened old man came in with two guards. They looked at Christine and Melisaunde, then gently took the former up.

"Where are ye taking her?" Melisaunde demanded, knowing Mikal was busy with
Estania and not liking the look the guards were giving the other harem members as they enjoyed their tickle-fight.

"For a simple medical procedure," the old man answered in heavily accented English. "Perhaps ye should come as well, to keep the maiden calm."

Christine looked at the older woman so helplessly that Melisaunde relented. At least the woman was looking people in the eyes now. The five left the harem just before the tickle orgy turned into something else.

In another room now, the guards gone, Christine was made to strip and laid upon a table. She was crying already. Melisaunde stroked Christine's hair as the doctor put her legs in bindings so they could not close. Then he brought out a clay jar and scooped some foul looking and smelling stuff from it.

"What is he doing to me, Melisaunde?" Christine sobbed as the man put something on her that made her unable to feel her sinful place.

Leaning down, Melisaunde kissed the woman's forehead as she would've her own
daughter's. "‘Tis nothing, child. He is just doing something that will make the future less painful for ye."

Rubbing Christine's shoulders and keeping her distracted, Melisaunde kept the would have been nun calm as the doctor surgically removed Christine's maidenhead leaving no trace behind. He then washed her and placed a healing balm inside her.

When he was through and Christine released and dressed again, Melisaunde explained what had happened to her, and Christine cried harder. Seeing herself halfway to ruin and sin. For a long time Melisaunde had to comfort Christine before she finally calmed down enough to go back to the harem room with her.
Christine knew now that she would not be able to fight her fate much longer.

The Taming of Estania

Estania was perfectly happy to ride Mikal's shoulder. The massive musculature which padded the huge bones made it quite a comfortable ride, and she felt sure that once he put her down, she would be able to go into her seduction routines.
These maneuvers had never failed Estania. Through them, and the equally well
practiced moves that she used in bed, she had learned to lead men around by their genitals, like a bull being led by the ring in it's nose.

After all, as the top courtesan in the Kingdom of Hungary, Estania had been viewed as the hidden ruler of the nation. She commanded the Kingdom by ruling it's King. She ruled the King by commanding his lusts. She saw no reason the same methods should not work with Mikal. She was wrong.

Mikal took Estania straight to his dungeon playroom, next to his bedchamber. There he unceremoniously dumped her, shapely buttocks first, through the opening of a large horizontal hoop of semi-stiffened leather. It was held up and fully open by four iron legs.

The wide leather of the hoop crossed Estania's feminine back just at the bottom of her shoulder blades. It crossed the undersides of her legs at mid thigh, a little bit closer to her knees than her hips. There were four stout, wide, padded leather cuffs attached to the outer side of the hoop. Two of these cuffs were behind Estania's shoulders, positioned above the hoop. The second pair were affixed to the part of the hoop that crossed the backs of her thighs, and were positioned below the hoop.

Estania squawked like a hen when Mikal dumped her into the hoop. She sputtered in indignation when he tightened the buckle of the hoop, making it impossible for her to extricate herself unaided. She knew she must look utterly undignified, with her arms and legs waving helplessly in the air.

Grinning impudently, Mikal took hold of Estania's right wrist. Bending her arm at the elbow, he fastened that wrist into the cuff behind her left shoulder. He then cuffed her left wrist behind her right shoulder. The cuffs that lay against the backs of her thighs were soon holding her lower legs, about two inches above the ankles.

Estania was humiliated, and infuriated. The insufferably smug grin on Mikal's face only made it worse. Her position made it impossible to use any of her seduction techniques! The often practiced moves she relied on to display her considerable charms before admiring men until they were well and truly hooked were denied her. Uselessly flapping her hands and feet and rolling her head on her neck were the only movements available. Those, and her mouth.

Estania nastily said to Mikal; "You've outsmarted yourself, big boy! How are you going to use me for your pleasure as long as I'm in this contraption?"

Then she stuck out her tongue at him. Mikal, still more infuriatingly, only grinned all the wider. He said; "That will cost you dearly, my girl! I'll remind you of it at an appropriate time!"

Mikal picked up a tightly rolled leather cylinder about two inches in diameter by six inches long. It had a long, inch wide strap trailing off one end. He wrapped the fingers of Estania's left hand around the cylinder and bound them into place with the strap, which he then tied off. He next did the same with her other hand, using a second cylinder.

Next Mikal slipped off Estania's slippers. He untied a few knots, separating the garment she wore into several loose strips of cloth. These were easily slipped out from under the hoop. To finish her immobilization, Mikal took up a ten inch rod of hardened leather with an adjustable, buckled strap at each end. He fastened the straps around the stems of her big toes.

Now, grinning more widely still, Mikal lifted Estania up, hoop and all, pulling it away from the four iron legs which were nailed to the top of a table. He easily carried her back to the bedroom, where he dropped her in the center of the bed, butt first. She bounced! Once again squawking in shock and indignation, she bounced! Twice!

Estania then helplessly rolled over on to her side, and lay there glaring at Mikal. He shed his slippers and sat on the bed crosslegged behind her back. Mikal rolled Estania back up to balance on her sexy ass. He smiled at her, clearly examining every inch of his defenseless prize.

Then, to Estania's shock and dismay, Mikal started to tickle her! The courtesan burst into laughter. She frantically struggled and squirmed, rolling around on the bed. It was useless; no matter which way she rolled her bound body, she only presented new, enticing targets for her grinning tormenter to tickle and tease!

Mikal started by tickling Estania's sides, below the hoop. She at once began laughing, desperately threw herself sideways, attempting to escape Mikal's fingers. As Estania's side touched the bed, Mikal started to run his fingers lightly up and down the sweet curve of her spine. Estania convulsed! Her back arched away from the ticklish sensation, to no avail. She simply could not move far enough that way even to make Mikal shift the position of his forearms.

Estania was laughing and twitching, both uncontrollably. She finally managed to roll herself onto her back, hiding her excessively ticklish spine. That was fine with Mikal; he decided to find out how ticklish her ass was! With both hands he started to tickle her butt cheeks. Estania helplessly giggled and jerked away, rolling back onto her neck.

Rather than let her hurt herself by lying on her own neck, Mikal gently pushed at the back of her waist with one hand until she rolled through and found herself in a kind of kneeling crouch, facing right at her tormenter. Estania attempted to glare at Mikal, but he started to tickle both sides of her neck, and she broke up giggling instead. She was so badly out of control, so very helpless! This never had happened to her before!

Craning her neck to either side only exposed the other side more vulnerably. Estania attempted to throw herself backward, away from Mikal, but the fingers of his left hand, softly laid over the back of her neck, held her firmly in place. Then he began lightly grazing her throat with the fingertips of his right hand. Oh, God! It tickled so much that the muscles there writhed as if they had a mind of their
own, and her giggling came out as series of burbles! “My God”, Estania thought, “he has me burbling! I'm actually burbling! How humiliating!"

Then Mikal tilted her chin up and kissed her, slowly, warmly, deeply and sweetly, square on the mouth, while he tickled her under the chin. Poor Estania's whole nervous system went erotically wild! She couldn't believe how intensely that kiss turned her on! And it went on, and on, and on, and on while the fingers kept delicately tickling the tender flesh under her chin, distracting her, preventing her from gaining control over the erotic sensations generated by the kiss.

Estania suddenly realized she had begun kissing back, opening wider, caressing his tongue with her own, moving her lips against his. She was accustomed to being the sexual aggressor, to making her lovers react to what she did. Instead, Mikal had HER reacting to HIM, and the worst thing of all was; she liked it!

Estania loved how Mikal's long kiss felt, loved how the insistent, distracting tickle under her chin made her response uncontrollable. She loved how excited it made her feel, how it made her want more, more stimulation, more pleasure, more tickling. Hey, wait! More tickling? What was she, crazy? She couldn't....but dammit, she did! Mikal actually had Estania wanting more tickling!

In sudden revulsion, Estania threw herself back with a contraction of all her
muscles. Mikal, grinning widely, allowed her to roll back until she once again balanced on her shapely butt, then stopped her and spun her around with her back to him. Then Mikal pulled her to him, pressing her shoulder blades against his hard chest.

Mikal held Estania in place by crossing his ankles in front of her and slightly raising his knees, forming a flesh fence around her. He then began tickling both of her armpits with a slow, maddening fingertip each. Estania burst out laughing. She just couldn't help it! There wasn't a thing she could do except laugh. And the tickling just kept getting worse as Mikal added fingers.

Two fingers on each side, then three, then four, then all five. Then Mikal switched from circling around the edges of Estania's tender armpits to very light, surface grazing pinching motions right in the centers. She threw her head back and she just roared with laughter. Her head was resting on Mikal's left shoulder, and he leaned in from the right to kiss Estania's throat, then the tender spot under her chin, then her mouth again. Estania could not get away. She was trapped in his powerful embrace, defenselessly enjoying the physical contact. The touching, the kissing, the tickling, they all felt so good!

Mikal kept up the kisses, while moving his hands from her pits to her breasts. Estania's back arched again, only now it was not an attempt to escape. Without any conscious volition on her part, her body was trying to thrust her sensitive breasts more firmly into the hands that were tickling them, at the same time pressing her shoulders more firmly against his chest, the back of her neck and head against his shoulder.

Estania loved how Mikal's hands, which she knew were so powerful, touched her so gently while tickling her breasts! He was driving her mad with desire and lust, and with tickling! Mikal was watching Estania carefully. He knew exactly when her need for climax became so intense that she really could not stand it any longer. He then rolled Estania back onto her shoulders and held her in place with one massive hand.

Gleefully, Mikal knelt and bent down, and began softly nibbling Estania's fully engorged labia with his lips and very, very lightly grazing with his teeth. Then Mikal licked with his tongue. The full, bushy moustache and beard that surrounded his mouth were deliciously tickling Estania's inner thighs and lower crotch, and when the tip of her clitoris started to peep out from under the flesh hood that normally hid it, the long silky whiskers tickled that too.

Estania was wriggling and squirming in sheer ticklish agony, wanting the maddening tease to continue because it was bringing her closer and closer to climax. Then Mikal moved in closer. His lips, moving ever so tenderly, pressed the flesh hood back and out of the way. With Estania's clitoris fully exposed, Mikal slipped the tip of his tongue under it's head, softly lifting to let his lower lip take it's place. Once this was done, Mikal's lips fully engulfed Estania's most sensitive spot, and began slowly gliding up and down the small shaft, while his tongue lightly flickered around the head. At the same time, Mikal's whiskers tickled the entire area around Estania's pussy and his fingertips tickled her belly and groin. For the very first time in her life, the experienced courtesan came while convulsing with laughter.

Estania had never had such a great orgasm! Mikal backed off, making the contact of his lips and tongue even lighter. He felt when the flood of hormones released by her orgasm hit, as her helpless responsiveness suddenly doubled.
Using this super-light contact, Mikal made Estania climax again, and again, and again. He had her delirious with pleasure, then he backed off just a little bit more. He denied her fifth orgasm, keeping her right on the unbearably teased brink till she screamed; "Let me cum! Master, please!" through her peals of laughter.

"And how would you like me to do that, my dear?" He inquired.

Divining his meaning, she answered; "I need you inside me! Oh, please master! Enter me, master! I need you!"

Mikal leaned back against the pillows and bolsters of the headboard, and pulled Estania to him, guiding her womanhood onto his member. He felt her react when his erection rubbed against her special spot, and kept her there.

Estania loved the sensations she was getting from her nether regions. Mikal had
planned this position from the start. He held her in place by hooking the tops of his feet over her shoulders from underneath as her shoulders lay on his ankles.

Estania suddenly realized something; her desperately ticklish, bare and helpless feet were right up near Mikal's chest, within easy reach of his hands. Just a split second later, those hands began tickling her feet. She was laughing so hard she just couldn't believe it. Her own frantic squirming and twisting struggles brought on her climax, but Mikal kept on teasing her feet. It was maddening! Those fingertips stroking her soles, mock-pinching her heels, circling the balls of her feet, were driving Estania crazy! She couldn't hold still for a single split second!

The more she moved, the more she made herself climax. Estania came, and she came, and she came, again. The intensity of her climaxes seemed to vary with the intensity of the tickling sensations Mikal was inflicting! The more unbearable the tickling became, the more heavenly and wonderful her orgasms became! She had never experienced anything like this!

Mikal tickled the tops of Estania's feet, and the sides. Then he tickled the pads of her toes, and the stems, and the tips, and between them. The tickling was driving her mad, but the repeated orgasms were wonderful! For all her experience as the most desired courtesan of a great kingdom, no one had ever given Estania pleasure remotely approaching what Mikal was giving her now. She was in agony, she was in ecstasy. She was in hell, she was in heaven. She was in love!

What? Wait! In love? Estania didn't want to be in love with Mikal! Not with the man who prevented her from using her skills to control him! Not with the man who was using his skills to control her! No! She wanted to hate him, didn't she? At least to be angry with him, right? At that very moment Mikal began scrabbling the pads of his fingers all over the high, sexy curves of Estania's arches. The most exquisitely ticklish location on Estania's luscious body was suddenly being stimulated beyond her endurance.

Estania was alternately shrieking in sheer ticklish anguish and screaming in pure orgasmic joy! Her resolve to not have positive feelings for Mikal was carried away on a vast tidal wave of sensation and pleasure. The one thing Estania still wanted and needed from Mikal was his pleasure. Somehow, she NEEDED to feel his climax within her, a thing she had never needed from any other man. She needed to know she could give pleasure back to this man who had given her
more enjoyment in one long evening than she had known in her entire life up until then.

Mikal was extremely experienced. Now he could feel that despite the unbearable tickling sensations which forced her to wriggle and squirm, she was trying to wriggle and squirm in a way that would bring him to climax. Reading Estania's body language, Mikal concluded that her desire was not just to end the sweet torture, but rather to please him. He smiled, and deliberately chose to relax
his ironlike self control. She felt him pumping what felt like a river inside of her, heard his immense shout of joyful completion. Mikal felt his orgasm trigger one last one in her, and he kept up the tickling until she had peaked and began to subside. As Estania's best ever orgasm faded Mikal stopped the tickling.

Mikal unbound Estania's toes first, then her ankles. He massaged her feet to take away the worst of the tingling left behind by a severe tickling. When he reached up to unbind her wrists, she rubbed her soles and worked her toes on his chest.

Mikal freed Estania from the hoop, then rapidly placed her face down and massaged her back and the backs of her thighs. He acted quickly to increase the circulation before the stressed muscles could cramp.

As the lights were extinguished, Estania fell asleep cradled in Mikal's mighty arms, held cradled like a baby against his huge chest, feeling safer and more protected than she ever had in her life. When she awoke the next morning, cuddled up to the warmth of his side, all thoughts of using her wiles to control him were gone. She was his. That was right. That was good. That was how things should be.

For the first time that she could remember, Estania felt free of the constant need to scheme and plot and connive to protect a precarious position of power to which she had no legal right. For the first time that she could recall, she was happy. She cried as she realized how deeply she loved Mikal.

Mikal had been lying awake with his eyes closed to gauge her unguarded reactions on wakening. Feeling Estania's quiet sobs, he opened his eyes, kissing the teardrops away as he stroked her soft hair. Now he knew she was his.

Breaking Christine Part 2

This time around Christine willingly went into the tub with the other harem girls, simply because she didn't wish Mikal to catch her alone again. Estania and Roxelana, both much changed from their time with their master, were at one end of the huge tub with the other harem girls, splashing and tickling each other.

Christine and Melisaunde were at the other end, washing themselves, and helping each other wash their backs. Just as they were all getting out, Mikal walked in. The other members of the harem cooed at him, giving him hopeful looks. But he simply smiled at them and stroked their wet hair before walking over to Christine. He took the towel she clutched about herself and began to dry her himself.

His touch was gentle. When she was dry he blindfolded her and took her by the hands, leading her out of the room. Gently guiding Christine, he put her onto a table face down, then began to rub warm scented oils into her skin. Mikal massaged her until she finally relaxed.

Mikal was once again tickling her, for longer moments this time, though not too much so. He found new spots to tickle as well. Then he placed slippers on her soft feet, stood her up, and dressed her.

This time he clothed Christine in a specially made silk dress. The sleeves, from wrist to shoulders, were slit, and held together with long ribbons. So too was the back split to the waist, and also tied together with ribbons. This would allow Mikal to remove her dress at any moment without releasing her bondage. This time her wrists were locked in front of her. Then he locked a leather collar about her neck. It wasn't so tight that it was uncomfortable. However, it was so wide that it forced Christine to keep her head up. It came up to cup her chin. She would not be able to look down or to the side. Then he removed her blindfold.

"Walk with me." Mikal said. Taking Christine by the elbow, he gently guided her. He did not give her so much guidance that she could get away with keeping her eyes closed. Christine found herself in a torturous position. She had no choice but to look straight ahead and watch where she was going. This meant that as they walked, she had to look people in the eyes. Slaves who were keeping the fortress clean, soldiers going to and from duty, Christine actually had to look in all their eyes.

Then, as she got use to it, she started to realize how differently the people here looked at her than the people did at home. There were none of the hateful looks her father gave her. None of the pitying ones her mother and the others of the castle often graced her with. There were no cold, calculating looks like those of her suitors.

Nay, some looked at her with friendly, open smiles. Others with slight indifference. And some with open lust. This last both disgusted and thrilled her at the same time. After all, as long as Mikal desired her, they could do nothing to her. Meanwhile Mikal told her amusing stories. At first she didn't hear them, but then when he started telling her about a neutered goat that still tried to mount everything, including those who were simply trying to get food for it, she started to smile, then eventually laugh. Soft, lady like laughter. Restrained.

Then Mikal did something no one else had ever done. He asked Christine about herself. She told him she was too boring to talk about, but in a manner as gentle as the touch of his hand, now at the small of her back, he got her talking. Her story was not amusing, but told a lot about her, and why she was so shy. So frightened.

Her father was a cold, cruel man. Angry that his only legitimate child was a ‘useless’ female. He used his women cruelly and Christine had been witness to this. At one point when she was of age to marry but had refused another suitor, he had actually convinced one the suitors to forcibly take her virginity so she would have to marry him.

Luckily as the bastard ripped at her dress, Christine's scream brought forth a peasant who rescued her. Her father secretly had her rescuer killed. When Christine found out she secretly sold all her jewelry, was little there was of it, and gave his family the money.

At the end of the walk Mikal released Christine from her bonds, took her into his arms and gently hugged her. Pressing his lips against her hair. Tickling her back through the slit in her dress. Then he entered the harem room with her and let her go, his eyes going over to Melisaunde.

The older blond stood and sighed. "Well," she said, "let us get this rutting over with."

The Awakening Of Melisaunde

Raising his eyebrows at her, Mikal offered her his arm. Never before had a man done that for the farmer's widow, so she hesitated a bit before taking it. One of his hands stroked hers and he led her out. Treating her to courtly manners she had never before experienced.

"Make no mistake, Melisaunde, ye are mine and will know it well after tonight," he whispered sensually to her as he led her to his chamber. "However, that is no reason not to treat ye as the queen thou art. Come, milady, thy royal bed awaits."

Conducting Melisaunde into his bedchamber, Mikal sat on the edge of the bed. He positioned Melisaunde between his legs, and he pulled the ends of the knots that held her garments together. In only a minute, she stood nude except for her slippers.

Mikal gently crossed her wrists behind her, and held both enwrapped within the fingers of his huge left hand. Crossing his ankles beyond her legs, he had her trapped. With his right hand, Mikal began teasing Melisaunde. Mikal's big fingertips moved across Melisaunde's smooth, creamy skin. He began on her
belly, which tickled. She found herself giggling and smiling, and starting to move in a sensual manner. To her deep surprise, Mikal's touch actually felt good!

Melisaunde had never enjoyed a man's touch before. She could feel her nerves, which had automatically shut down in self defense as soon as she knew Mikal was taking her to bed, starting open back up again. Almost as if they were telling her; "This isn't bad, Melly! Let's pay attention and see where this goes!"

Right now, it was going wherever Mikal chose to take it, and that was all over the front of Melisaunde's naked body. Those skilled fingers teased and tickled Melisaunde's thighs, and her hips, and her groin. Those fingers were making her feel good. Those fingers were making her giggle and wriggle. Those fingers were exciting her, making her flesh swell at nipples and labia, making her wet.

Mikal craned his head down and flickered his tongue in and out of Melisaunde's
indented little bellybutton. It felt Soooo intense that she screamed, but the scream was a sound of delight, not of torment. But then, as the flicker went on, it was suddenly feeling Soooo ticklish! She found herself helplessly laughing out loud.

It had been such a long time since she last felt like laughing! It felt really good to be out of control and just laugh! Meanwhile, Mikal's right hand started to tease in between her thighs, parting them gently. The inner sides of Melisaunde's muscular thighs had never been deliberately caressed by a man before, and it just felt so wonderful!

Truthfully, this was the very first time in a life of deprivation that Melisaunde had been deliberately pleasured by anyone but Melisaunde. It was truly a brand new experience for her. She couldn't help loving it. Melisaunde knew what incredible power lay in Mikal's arms and hands. That made the gentleness he displayed as he played with her tenderest places all the more of a wonder. It was clear, he was making an effort to give Melisaunde as much pleasure as possible.

Melisaunde found the very idea of a man who cared for her feelings astonishing. Now, as Mikal began tickling her ribs, and she found herself laughing and swaying from side to side, she was enjoying herself more than ever before in her life! Then Mikal kissed her, a kiss that was not rough and bruising and hurtful, the way Melisaunde expected a man's kiss to be. This kiss was soft, tender, sensual, sexy and arousing. And while he was kissing her mouth, Mikal began tickling her breasts. She was getting so hot, so excited, it felt so DAMN GOOD!

Then Mikal let go of Melisaunde's wrists and scooped the small woman up in his left arm. His brawny bicep was under the small of her back and his forearm was under her thighs as his free right hand parted the tapestry hangings to open the way to his tickle torture chamber. Mikal opened the top of a set of well padded stocks, and he placed Melisaunde's slender ankles within the holes. The palace carpenter had remade the stocks to Melisaunde's measure. The padded holes held her ankles perfectly. He closed the top, and twisted a carved wooden bar, locking the device solidly.

Mikal reached up above Melisaunde's head, and he pulled down a leather half helmet. A chain ran from a ring on the top of the helmet to a pulley on a ceiling beam. Mikal put Melisaunde's shapely little behind on the seat of the stocks and fitted the half helmet over the top of her head, effectively blindfolding her. A pair of leather gloves were attached to the upper back of the helmet. Mikal placed
Melisaunde's hands in the gloves, then he tightened and buckled the straps at the wrists of those gloves, and the strap at the back of the helmet, locking it in place. Melisaunde shivered, but not from cold. She had never before in her life felt so utterly vulnerable.

Mikal whispered in her ear; "Be not afraid, little bird. I will never harm you, nor hurt you. Now that you are mine, I will always protect you. The way I have bound you is only to give you more pleasure. Indeed, my intent is to give you such pleasure that if you were not bound, you would not be able to stay in one place long enough to enjoy it."

Melisaunde replied; "I know, my lord. The other girls told me about how you were with them. I disbelieved them, until I began to feel your caress on my own skin. Now I believe, now I know you will not hurt me. I know that you like to tickle your women. I fear that I may not be ticklish enough for your pleasure my lord."

"Shhhh. Shh little one. I am sure you will please me. Now, let us discover how ticklish you are."

Mikal began tickling her ribs, and she suddenly found herself laughing harder than she ever had in her life. But the tickling was gentle if firm, and exciting, and pleasing. She liked it! Amazing!

After several minutes Mikal began tickling her breasts again. Melisaunde was smiling with genuine happiness as his hands teased and tickled her breasts and made her keep laughing. She loved how it felt when he nibbled and suckled her nipples or kissed her mouth while he kept tickling her.

Then Mikal tickled her sides. Oh, how that tickled! She laughed hard, in helpless delight. Oh, her sides were soooo ticklish! Melisaunde simply writhed when he started to tickle her underarms! She was startled again and again as her steadily increasing ticklishness kept on surprising her.

Then Mikal happily shocked her by lickling her ears, one by one. Lord, that felt so intense! Melisaunde happily squealed and merrily laughed as he tickled and teased her to ecstasy! Mikal whispered; "Oh, yes, my dear Melisaunde! You are quite ticklish enough for my pleasure. Oh, yes."

Mikal tickled the backs of her thighs, then her calves, then the backs of her knees, then the tops of her feet, brushing the slippers off to fall to the floor. Melisaunde kept laughing harder and getting more turned on with each passing moment. In all of a lonely, affection starved life, she had never before had anyone make any effort for her pleasure. Now she could sense Mikal keenly observing her face and her body, her sounds and movements, constantly altering what he was doing and how he was doing it, always increasing her pleasure.

Then Mikal suddenly started to tickle her feet, and her entire being was simply
consumed with the fire of sweet, helpless ticklish delight as the laughter poured out of her. Melisaunde was completely stunned at how desperately, wonderfully ticklish her feet were! Back when the girls first arrived at Mikal's palace, Melisaunde's foot bottoms had been even more leathery tough than Roxelana's. Her life as a farm girl, and then as a farm wife, had left her with layers of callous all over her foot bottoms. Then, the hard marching days of a poor mendicant pilgrim had added still more depth and toughness.

The day they arrived, Melisaunde and Roxelana had both been given their first ever pedicures, under Estania's expert supervision. Roxelana had been the first taken, which meant that Melisaunde had been given an extra two days and nights of softening creams and smoothing touch ups. Her feet, which had been tougher by far when they both arrived, now were much softer and far, far more sensitive than those of the young Roxelana.

Mikal loved the feel of Melisaunde's tender soles, now soft as butter and smoother than silk. He could not get enough of the delicious sensation of those creamy soles writhing under his soft, tickling touch. And her laugh! Oh, how he loved the sound of her sweet, throaty laugh! Mikal became carried away, and he kept on exploring her soles and toes and arches far longer than he had intended. He came back to himself when he saw the first tears leak from under the blindfold built into the half helmet.

Mikal knelt on the carpet alongside Melisaunde's extended legs. Ducking his head to pass under her right leg, he knee-walked sideways, then raised his head again between her spread thighs. Mikal began kissing Melisaunde's calves, alternating from the left to the right as he worked his way slowly up her legs. While he was doing this, Mikal kept on tickling the backs of her thighs. While the tickling was less intense, the sensual kisses were driving her need to a fever pitch.

Mikal kissed the soft backs of Melisaunde's knees, a sensation which tickled and teased at the same time. Then he was kissing his way up her inner thighs, slowly and steadily driving her wild with lust she had never experienced before. Finally, Mikal's questing mouth arrived at Melisaunde's sex, and engulfed it. It felt so
impossibly sweet, she just couldn't believe it! She had never suspected that pleasure at this level even existed!

Mikal's huge hands spider tickled up Melisaunde's sides to her underarms, and seemed to take up residence there. They lingered in those tender hollows, swirling and dancing there, making her laugh and laugh and squirm and squirm.
Melisaunde felt her clitoris fully engulfed by a warm, wet, gently tender and teasing mouth. Mikal's lips and tongue seemed to be everywhere on her tiny, exquisitely sensitive member, and she simply loved it.

Melisaunde had the orgasm of her life, and Mikal sensed it. At once Mikal's mouth became even gentler, even more soft on her now hypersensitive clit as he slowly, insistently guided her to a second orgasm, followed by a third. She had never cum twice in a row before! God, that felt good! She was crying more now from happiness than from torment. He teased her to the brink of a fourth and then kept her there, letting her helpless desire build, all the while tickling her armpits and sides.

Kissing the tears away, Mikal unhooked the helmet from the chain, opened the stocks and carried Melisaunde to a huge armchair by the fire on the hearth. Seating himself in the chair with Melisaunde kneeling in his lap facing him, he gently spread her knees as he lowered her dripping wet womanhood onto his rampant member. Now, for the very first time, Melisaunde found herself actually loving the way that it felt as a man entered her! She had never before known a man who had troubled to get her ready before taking his own pleasure. Mikal had not only gotten her ready, he taken her past ready, eager and needful all the way to desperate, and now he was giving her what he had just made her desperate to have.

Mikal quickly unbuckled and took off the helmet and gloves. She had never felt nearly so happy. But, why was he strapping her wrists to the top of the chair's back? Why was he cuffing her ankles to the ends of the chair back? Her eyes focused in on his face, only inches from hers. The whole front of her body was happily pressed against his, and Melisaunde loved how it felt!

Melisaunde was thrilled by the look of delight that she saw on Mikal's handsome
countenance. Somehow, to know how much he was enjoying her added to her pleasure, just as she sensed that her own pleasure added to his. Then, Mikal started to tickle her feet again! Now Melisaunde understood why he bound
her in place! God, it tickled so good she could simply not stand it! She came when he started to play with her toes, but he just kept it up. She at first wondered why, till she felt herself coming again. She thought; "Two more? So soon after just having three? That was possible? Who knew!?"

Then Mikal made Melisaunde come laughing for the sixth and then seventh time. He could feel her limit approaching and switched to her arches. Her entire being was simply consumed into wild, helpless laughter. Mikal loved the sweet feel of the soft tender foot flesh his fingers possessed and enjoyed as he tickled and tickled and tickled. Melisaunde couldn't take too much more, so he let himself go just in time for his pleasure to lift her last climax up to a whole higher level.

Mikal unbound Melisaunde's limbs, and he carried her back to the bed. Unlike the first two, who had passively cuddled, Melisaunde was so happy to have found a man who actually made an effort to please her that she happily stroked his hard body with her hands. She was reveling in the feel of a powerful masculine form alongside her until, exhausted, the sated woman fell asleep.

The Breaking Of Christine - Final Surrender

When Melisaunde returned from her time with Mikal, Christine felt all alone. The older blond had returned with such a look of satisfaction and - joy - that the would be nun knew her friend had lost the war against their sensual owner. Now it would be her turn, and Christine knew she'd never hold out. She was already
halfway his.

The next morning the other harem members seemed to swarm on her once she was in the tub. They subdued her with tickles so they could wash her and make one hundred percent sure that there were no stray body hairs or areas of thick skin that would interfere with their master's pleasure. Christine was still not expecting what they knew would happen. After they rubbed her with lavender scented oils, they dressed her in white silk. Like the dress of the other day, this one was split from wrist to shoulder in the sleeves and from the top of the back to the waist, with white ribbons holding the splits together. The full, loose fitting skirt let Christine know that Mikal could easily bind her wrists and legs and
still undress her later simply by pulling the ribbons free and letting gravity do it's work.

Then they slipped white slippers upon her tender feet and began to dress her hair. They braided it not with flowers, but with feathers of every shape, size, and color until she was like some wild bird. Christine looked helplessly at the three women whom Mikal had bought along with her and frowned. They just smiled at her and kissed her in an almost sinful manner. There was no point in fighting it, she would have to give in. The only thing Christine feared now was how it would feel. Everyone kept telling her she was too small down below. Everyone except Estania who insisted that Christine would stretch to fit. Still, she thought about her mother's cries of pain and wondered if mother shared her deformity. Perhaps that was why her mother was always in tears....

The harem was now leading Christine out into the hall and down it. They were carrying long sticks, each tipped with a stiff feather. They used these sticks to tickle Christine and guide her like a shepherd would a sheep. That's when it hit Christine that she was being led like a virgin sacrifice. Suddenly, all the wicked feelings those tickles made her have burned a thousand times brighter,
enhanced rather then dampened by her fear.

When building his fortress, Mikal had found a natural spring right in the exact center. He had found a way to turn this into a bubbling pool, then route the run off back down under the fortress to the well that supplied his peoples' water, filtered through bedrock and sand.

Around this pool he had built what from the outside looked like a tall central tower. Inside, near the top were large plates of highly polished metal that reflected the sun's rays down to the bottom. If one were to look at the thick vines along the walls, they'd find they were really cleverly made ladders that just looked like vines. Slaves would climb these every day to polish the metal sheets so the sun could continue to reach down.

With the fresh water and the sunlight, Mikal was able to grow lush vegetation down at the bottom of this long stone tube. Birds of every shape and size also lived here. The most eye catching were the regal peacocks, strange birds from the darkest parts of Africa. All were half tame, and responsive to the call and touch of Mikal.

It was to this place that Christine was led. Mikal was sitting on a throne made from the roots of the tree behind him, looking like some pagan god. He was wearing a cloak made of feathers, a crown of them too.

As they forced her closer with more tickling, Christine realized the tree was fake, with many areas that looked like they could be moved or even opened up. The thick vines on it were actually nets. The one closest to her, she could see had two holes where legs could dangle freely while the rest of the body was held. What she didn't realize was that the knot, cleverly covered in silk to make it look like a flower bud was placed so that when a woman was in the net the "bud" would press right against her clit. Every move she made would cause it to rub and tease her there.

Next to the tree was a bed covered in grey and green silk, made to look like a stone altar. A wooden pole was next to it, stuck firmly in the ground. There were leather cuffs dangling from the pole and it was to this pole that one of the harem girls led Christine, cuffing her so she could not escape. The others began to sing
and dance around the altar and tree, like worshipers trying to summon their god.
They began to teach the other three newcomers the dance, words to be worked on later.

Mikal sat as impassive as stone. Then he reached up and tugged a rope that made bells clang like thunder. Birds screeched and flew about until the sound ended. The worshiping harem girls stopped their song, knowing that the "sacrifice" had been accepted. They dashed about in the thick foliage, playing games. Christine could hear shrieks of laughter as the harem girls began to chase and tickle each other.

Standing, Mikal moved towards her, like a cat stalking it's prey. Like a god coming to partake of the sacrificial lamb. Even though her mind hadn't accepted it, Christine could feel her body already surrendering without him even touching her. Christine closed her eyes in apprehension, not knowing what to expect. Mikal stood close in front of her. She could feel the heat of his body radiating as if from the open door of a furnace. She could small his clean, masculine scent.

Christine felt Mikal's breath warm on her cheek as he leaned in to inhale the scent of her hair. Then she could feel his hands running through her hair, gently stroking it, combing out the playfully tangled loose knots where the feathers were placed. Mikal cupped her face in his hands. Christine's eyes were still closed, but she felt herself start to relax. She had never been touched by a man with such gentleness.

Distantly, distracted by the pleasure she felt as Mikal's big hands caressed her cheeks ever so tenderly, Christine thought; "No man has ever touched me gently before. All the men I have known in my life have been brutes, like the ones Melisaunde had known. They were also all weaklings, the ones that Melisaunde knew as well as the ones in my own life. Mikal is the strongest man either of us has ever known, yet his touch is so gentle. Can it be, then, that weak men are brutal, while only the strong men are gentle?"

Then all thought dissolved in sensation as Mikal kissed her lips. That kiss amazed Christine. It was so very tender, so sensual, so thrilling! It lingered, and teased, and excited her so! Then Mikal stepped back, but as he did so he pulled out the knots which held her dress together at her shoulders. The garment fell open and down. It was held by the knots at her hips and just above the cuffs that held her wrists behind her. Her entire upper body was exposed.

Now Mikal started to tickle Christine. He began with her shoulders and upper arms, grazing his fingertip pads ever so lightly over her skin, making her giggle. She opened her eyes to behold that handsome face smiling into hers from just inches away. When Mikal began tickling the sides of her neck, Christine found herself shuddering, shrugging, and helplessly laughing. She also could feel herself growing aroused, as nipples erected themselves and her private place started to moisten. When he kissed her again, while the tickle continued, he made her arousal grow far more intense.

Mikal stopped the tickling and stepped back again, this time pulling out the knots at Christine's wrists. Her garment was now held on only by knots at her hips and her ankles. Christine, who had shut her eyes during the second kiss opened them up again. Mikal caught her eyes with his own, and without even speaking directed her gaze to her own erect nipples. Christine blushed furiously, shutting her eyes tight in embarrassment. Mikal kissed her closed eyelids and whispered; "Come, open your beautiful eyes, Christine."

When she shook her head in desperate negation, Mikal reached out and tickled her sides. Christine twisted her body from side to side, laughing, and opened her eyes. She could see that Mikal's smile had now widened into a grin. Mikal stepped forward again, and he reached behind Christine with both hands. He
detached the cuffs holding her wrists from the middle of the upright pole and reattached them at the top. His fingertips traced down her raised arms, provoking ever louder giggles, until they returned to her exposed torso.

He tickled her sides, her ribs, her underarms, her belly, her hips, and her groin. Christine danced and wriggled, trying to escape from the tickling, growing steadily more aroused. Laughing in spite of herself, sounding and feeling happy.
The fact that the tickling and teasing were making her feel so happy confused Christine. Shouldn't something so sinful feel bad? Shouldn't she hate the man who was rapidly destroying her resolve to remain faithful to the vows she had after all not yet actually taken? Even the way her mind worded that question confused her, as if her subconscious were trying to hide the answer within the words of the question.

Christine's eyes suddenly opened wide in shock. Mikal was tickling her breasts! It was tickling so much! It was driving her crazy with wild feelings she had never felt before! It was making her laugh even harder. The way it was making her squirm, even she wasn't sure; was she trying to escape the tickling or invite more of it? Again Christine danced at the ends of Mikal's fingers, laughing and twisting and wriggling. Oh, why did she love how it felt so much? Then he shocked her again; he had taken her left nipple into his mouth, and was flicking the tip with his tongue while his lips gently nibbled the sides! Oh, GHOD but that tickled! She screamed once and then settled back into wild, helpless laughter. Mikal kept on tickling her nude upper body while moving his mouth from one nipple to
the other, and then to her mouth, and then back again. Christine was totally helpless and utterly out of control. Somehow, knowing that this was the case made her feel better. Less guilty, somehow no longer responsible for whatever would happen now.

That thought felt so, so liberating. She felt the weight of guilt for her sinful feelings lift off of her shoulders! Whatever might happen now, it would not be her fault! Mikal could see when her mind changed. Suddenly Christine was freely, happily enjoying the sweet, wicked things that Mikal was doing to her body. Suddenly, she went from guilty to happy. He knew what that was; he had seen it before. It was time to progress to the next stage.

Mikal pulled the knots at her hips, and her garment dropped to her ankles, leaving Christine almost completely naked. He bent down to pull the last knots and remove the wisp of cloth from her ankles, then whipped it around them to bind them together. Mikal loosed Christine's wrists from the pole. He lifted her easily and carried her to the bed that was made to look like a stone altar.

Christine was quietly amazed. She had long been the target of remarks about her weight. It was true that she massed more than most grown men of her time, but the giant Mikal handled her like she was made of straw, as though she weighed no more than a feather.

Mikal dropped his own robe, and the thickness of his erect member frightened Christine. She was indeed very small in that part of herself, and was very afraid that this man could not enter her there. Mikal climbed on to the altar-bed alongside Christine, and placed her wrists together directly over her ankles. He took the loose end of the strip of fabric her dress had been reduced to and whipped it around her wrists. Her four limbs were held close to each other
at their narrowest parts.

Mikal drew Christine close and again began kissing, teasing and tickling her. Her
arousal had hardly subsided at all, and now he was making it increase again.
Meanwhile, he kept softly whispering into her ear that she was completely helpless. That there was nothing she could do to control what happened next. That whatever that might be, it would not be her fault. The perceptive Mikal sensed that this removal of responsibility was what Christine needed to let go of her guilt and inhibitions. It was working. He could feel her body relaxing, responding more strongly and easily. Enjoying his touches and kisses more
and more as the minutes passed. That was just what he wanted.

Mikal had planned on taking a long slow time with Christine, but he sensed that she was ready to proceed. He was very aware of the physical problem of her tightness, and had already thought about how to deal with it. Now he unwrapped and discarded the cloth of her dress.

Mikal stretched Christine's arms up to two broad, softly padded leather cuffs at the corners of one end of the altar-bed, and fastened them into place. Then he lifted a hinged frame up from the top of the altar and locked it into place above Christine's head. Mikal gently lifted Christine's legs and folded them back until her ankles were above her shoulders. There he fastened them into the unfolded and locked frame. This position allowed him to pay Christine's privates the attention they deserved and needed.

Mikal's fingertips softly, softly played across Christine's labia with the pads of his
fingertips. He tickled and teased her. She laughed uncontrollably, but his attention was focused. Mikal was waiting to see if the flesh around her tiny opening relaxed enough. After a long, slow time, Mikal's patience was rewarded. He saw and felt enough relaxation that he finally knew he could enter Christine without harming or hurting her.

Mikal entered Christine more slowly and gently than she had ever dared hope. She was laughing and giggling and writhing and squirming and wonderfully ready and wet. Finally, Mikal was all the way in her. It felt far, far tighter than any other woman ever had; he knew he would have to exert every bit of his famed self-control to last long enough for their pleasure to be mutual, but that was one of the reasons he had worked so hard to develop it.

With Mikal's handsome face hovering less than a foot above Christine's lovely
countenance, he smiled down at her and began to tickle the bottoms of her feet.
Christine just went wild. Nothing had ever tickled her nearly so much in her life. She was roaring with laughter, bucking and wiggling her hips, moving herself around and against Mikal in ways that sent jolt after jolt of pleasure shooting up her nerve channels. Her own helpless movements were bringing her closer and closer to some dimly sensed, unknown completion that she somehow knew was hovering out there.

Christine had never in her life experienced a climax. Now, as Mikal's exploring fingers found her tender arches, and her ticklish response and pleasure peaked, she experienced one for the first time.

Christine screamed with pleasure and joy. Mikal grinned happily down at her as he continued to tickle and please her. He was waiting for the orgasm to increase her sensitivity, and after a few seconds it happened.

Now Mikal bored in on the peaks of Christine's arches; he had just discovered that these, especially the right, had a direct connection to the pleasure center in her brain, and he exploited this. Tickling her right arch drove her quite mad. Mikal very carefully held himself still so as not to hurt her, until he could feel her relax with her second climax.

Now, still cautiously, Mikal began moving within and above her while moving his hands down to tickle her ample breasts while his beard and tongue tickled her arches. The delighted and out of control woman was screaming with ticklishness and orgasm again and again, and Mikal let himself come inside of her, bringing it all to end before she could hurt herself. He knew that from now on each time that he took her would be better and require less caution.

Mikal released her from bondage, cuddled beside her and gathered her to himself. She sweetly, drowsily kissed him and dropped off, happily exhausted. The slave attendants covered them both with a sheet and set up a pavilion above the bed, in case it rained in the night. They slept.

In the morning, they went to breakfast with the other three women who Mikal had purchased with Christine. Gazing fondly about at Estania, Melisaunde and Roxelana, Mikal said; "I have made you all mine now. Tomorrow night, we will all play together."

The four women nodded, and smiled at each other, and at their beloved lord and
master. Mikal had indeed made them his.

Playtime

The day had passed in a flurry of active anticipation. Estania insisted on a beauty treatment for all the women, making sure they were all quite free of body hair and thick skin. They also spent time with the other harem women as well. Getting to know them.

Getting to know more about Mikal through them as well. Not just how he was as a lover, but how he was as a father, as a friend. Those women who were mothers left to spend time with their offspring. This gave the new harem members some relief, for they did wonder what would happen should they quicken with child.

The others spoke to the girls, some in English, others through Estania. They chatted about a number of things. Then, Christine, unable to take a dainty foot being so close to her, grabbed the owner's ankle and began to tickle it. The owner squealed and dived forward, tickling Christine back. This led into a playful orgy of tickling between everyone in the harem.

It was into this that Mikal walked. He was amused, but pretended to be stern, roaring out, "ENOUGH!"

The harem stopped it's tickle play. Melisaunde had been pinned down by several
women. Some were tickling her upper body, Roxelana had her lips wrapped around the older woman's toe. Christine had been sneaking up on the redhead with a feather. Estania was busying herself with two other lusty harem members.

For a moment it looked like Mikal was going to get angry at them all, then suddenly he burst out laughing. Deep, good natured belly laughs. When he finally calmed down he said, "Ah, if I cannot keep you all satisfied I shall have to work much harder."

The ladies untangled themselves and got up. Giggling. The harem girl who had been the first Christine had tickled now pouted. "When will we get to play again, Master?" She asked.

"Soon, dear heart," Mikal replied, tickling her under the chin. "In the mean time why don't you and the others go to the grotto?" He knew this one's love for hanging in the net while being foot tickled. Kissing her forehead, he sent her off with the others with a gentle pat on her rounded bottom. Soon it was just Mikal and his four newest harem girls. "Now who's responsible for all this?"

The other three instantly pointed to Christine, who responded by playfully sticking her tongue out at them. A completely different woman then the shy, cowering creature she had been.

"And how should we punish you, little imp?" Mikal asked, approaching Christine.

"Tickle her!" Roxelana shouted out.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Christine challenged, darting out of the room and towards the bathing area. Hot on her ticklish heels were the other women. Mikal exited - he knew a short cut.

As the others tried to get around the pool to surround Christine, Mikal entered from a secret panel and wrapped his arms around her waist, easily lifting her up. He swung her around so her feet hung over his back. The others knew exactly what to do. Melisaunde used a ribbon she had tied in her hair to bind Christine's ankles together, leaving enough of it to use like a leash. As they followed along behind Mikal they ruthless exploited the tender feet before them. Christine's laughter filled the air.

Soon they were in Mikal's playroom. Christine already in a sexual frenzy because of the ruthless foot tickling from the other three. However, he planned on keeping her there for awhile. To greatly increase her pleasure. Then he would let each lady have her turn. Christine had been the last taken, today she would be the first.

Mikal carried Christine into the playroom. He gently deposited her on her back on a well padded convex surface. He placed her hands into palmless mittens that were attached to one end of the massive wooden structure the surface was part of, then he fastened the straps at her wrists. Mikal raised and adjusted a padded support under Christine's neck. He unwrapped the ribbon holding her ankles together and placed each ankle in an individual padded stock at the other end of the arch rack., then locked them down. A crank on the side adjusted the length and arc so that Christine was quite comfortable, but completely unable to
move.

Then Mikal kissed Christine's lips, and took a thronelike chair to her left. Gesturing to a table filled with an array of tickling tools which stood to his left, Mikal said to Estania, Melisaunde and Roxelana; "Tickle her, ladies. Teach our little imp obedience."

The three went to the table, eagerly scanning the available implements. Roxelana,
perhaps the most eager, chose a matched pair of long, wide turkey tail feathers. She pranced over to the arch rack., and at once commenced stroking the feathers across Christine's belly. Christine began giggling right away as the feathers wandered and explored. Melisaunde grabbed a pair of inch wide, soft artist's paintbrushes. She leaned over the rack to tauntingly show them to Christine, then sauntered down to the bottom of the rack and began slowly, torturously brushing them up and down Christine's feet. Christine's giggles turned into laughter. The brushes were deliberately kept away from her arches, because that might trigger a climax too soon. The bristles explored the balls of Christine's feet, her heels, and the flexing and wrinkling soles. Christine laughed and laughed, unable to stop, but she loved it. It just felt so sinfully sexy and fun!

Estania pulled on a very special pair of gloves. The palms, the inner surfaces of the fingers and the fingertips were all covered in some kind of soft, very tickly fur. She scampered over to the head end of the rack, and began softly tickling the sides of Christine's neck. Christine was totally out of control, laughing and screaming, wiggling and squirming, getting intensely turned on and enjoying every second. After a few minutes, Estania turned around and applied the maddening gloves to Christine's breasts. It was driving Christine wild. Roxelana moved the feathers down from Christine's belly to her sides, slowly and steadily stroking up and down, making her wiggle and writhe as she laughed. Melisaunde slid the brushes up from Christine's soles to play them all over her toes. Soft bristles stroking the pads and the stems of her toes tickled Christine so intensely! The combined sensations were amazing.

The total of Christine's happy punishment came to about half an hour when Mikal cleared his throat. Instantly, he had everyone's attention. He said; "All of you, work on her from the ankles down. The rest of her is now mine."

Mikal dropped his robe, revealing the powerful masculine form which had given such pleasure to all of the four women. He climbed onto the padded surface and lay down beside Christine while the other three got into position.

Mikal told them to begin, while he himself began making love to Christine. He was teasing her breasts with his hands, kissing her mouth. He was stroking her exposed inner thighs, nibbling her love button, licking her labia.

Suddenly, Christine's moans of pleasure became the wildest laughter that had ever come out of her mouth. Her entire body was consumed in the peals of laughter as six hands, thirty fingers, simultaneously started to tease her unbearably ticklish feet. Every muscle in Christine's body strained to pull her tender feet away from the maddening tickles! Melisaunde's fingers were teasing the toes on both of Christine's helpless feet. Estania at Christine's right foot and Roxelana at her left were using one hand to stroke up and down the length of the foot, from the heel across the sole to the ball and back again, while the fingers of the other scrabbled wildly in the tender arches!

The arches! That was the tickle that was driving Christine to insanity. That's what was making her climax again and again and again till she just couldn't take any more. But she still wanted more! She was loving the torture! Her helplessness just made it better. Mikal lifted himself onto Christine, and made sure she was as wet and ready as possible. He made sure that 80% of his massive weight was resting on his own knees and elbows, not on her. Then, he began slowly, carefully inserting himself. The deeper he got, the greater her pleasure became.

With 30 fingers tickling her defenseless bare feet while the man she loved was kissing her, caressing her, and inside of her, Christine's entire being turned into a single, living flame of pleasure and sweet ticklish anguish.

At just the right time, Mikal let himself go, his pleasure joining with hers, the two of them feeding off each other. Christine was transported momentarily to another world, then she came slowly, dreamily back to earth, to find herself in Mikal's loving arms, the tickling over, the hands of Mikal and her three girlfriends soothing her rather than teasing her.

Mikal rose, extracted himself from Christine as gently as he had entered. He dried both of them with a clean towel. Mikal led his four ladies to a table set with snacks and wine. They all reclined on couches, nibbled and sipped. After a restorative and a rest, Mikal smiled around at them all, then pointed at Melisaunde; "You my dear; now it is your turn."

Melisaunde gulped, and then smiled and nodded. Meanwhile the other three all clapped their hands in glee. Mikal had figured out what Melisaunde liked the best by careful observation of his women at play. He led her to a narrow padded seat, adjacent to a set of padded stocks.

The stocks were already adjusted to the length of Melisaunde's legs. She smiled slyly as Mikal locked her slender ankles into the padded holes, then swiped her slippers off with playful batting motions of his bearpaw-sized hands.

Mikal pulled a long T-bar from under the padded seat, and fitted the long stem into a slot in the center of the back of the seat. The side of the stem that Melisaunde's back now rested against was padded as well. Mikal lifted her hands one by one, and he fastened her wrists into padded cuffs at the ends of the short crossbar of the T, only a few inches apart.

Mikal pulled the few knots which held Melisaunde's garments together and removed them, leaving her nude. His whistle of appreciation made her smile and blush. Then he kissed her sweetly, while reaching into a pocket of his robe. He drew forth a tailored sleep mask, shaped like a bandit mask but without the eyeholes. He fitted this over her eyes and tied the tails together at the back of her head. Her smile remained, but was looking a trifle uneasy.

Mikal moved his throne over, handling the multi-hundred pounds of wood and fabric as if it were made of thin paper. He gestured at the table full of tickling toys, and said; "Now remember girls; our dear Melly is allergic to feathers. You have to choose brushes or fur swatches, or else use your fingers."

Estania was first to move. Choosing a pair of broad, soft shaving brushes, she crept up behind the blindfolded Melisaunde. Striking with no warning, Estania began to stroke both sides of Melisaunde's neck with her brushes. Melisaunde squealed in delight and began laughing happily, wiggling and squirming about.

Now Christine joined the fun, running her nails slowly up and down Melisaunde's
foot bottoms. Christine visited wicked tickling sensations on the helpless victim's heels, then glided slowly up the wrinkling and flexing soles, then grazed around and over the balls of the feet and then back down again.

Melly was happily laughing. It felt really good, but it tickled so much! She would have begged them to stop if she could have, but they had her laughing so hard that she just couldn't speak. Besides, she loved the helpless, out of control feeling it gave her and wanted more.

Roxelana had picked up a pair of broad, inch and a half wide artists brushes with silky soft bristles an inch long. She stepped up to Melisaunde's left flank. Then Roxelana poised the brushes at Melly's hips, and swept both of them right up the smooth, sexy curves of her flanks to just below the armpits then back down again. Then up, then down, up, down, repeat, repeat, again and again.

It made Melly laugh even harder. It also made her body undulate from side to side, reflexively trying to evade the wicked tickle of the brushes. It was all to no avail. No matter how madly, no matter how desperately Melisaunde's lovely body twitched and writhed, she could not break the delicate, ticklish contact with the relentlessly stroking brushes.

Estania now trailed the shaving brushes down from the sides of Melisaunde's neck, over the backs of her shoulders and into her defenselessly displayed underarms. There the two brushes remained, swirling around and around in those desperately ticklish hollows.

Melisaunde's laughter rose up to a howling. She just couldn't stand it, it tickled so bad! Then it became infinitely worse, and at the same time infinitely better, for now Mikal joined the fun.

Through the delicious torment afflicting her feet, sides and armpits, Melisaunde instantly recognized the big, blunt fingers of Mikal's huge hands tickling her soft inner thighs, and then rising to tickle her breasts. As soon as she felt Mikal's hands on her skin, the undercurrent of sexual pleasure that had been there under the tickling shot up to dominate everything Melisaunde was feeling. Never before had she been so turned on, so deliciously, maddeningly aroused.

Within minutes the desperately laughing Melisaunde was tormented more by the
wonderful throbbing of her labia, nipples and clit than she was by the tickling. It was really too much, but there wasn't a thing she could do except feel and enjoy the unbearably intense sensations.

Mikal slid his hands under Melly's firm buttocks and lifted her straight up. He swung his own mighty legs into place underneath her. He was seated facing Melly and lowered her dripping, eagerly quivering pussy right onto his own rock hard member. As before, he seemed to fill her perfectly. The pleasure he gave her was exquisite, his manhood rubbing her G-spot and moving her own flesh around her clit.

At the same time, Estania was tickling her armpits with soft, round shaving brushes. Christine's fingertips were now concentrating on her frantically sensitive arches. Roxelana was standing behind her, crouched down in front of Estania and stroking Melly's sides with those wicked brushes. And Mikal was teasing her breasts with the pads of his fingertips, repeatedly brushing her throbbing nipples and kissing her welcoming, helplessly, happily laughing mouth.

Melisaunde came even more powerfully than the last time with Mikal, then came again. Then she had so many orgasms she couldn't count them. One climax after another after another. When she felt Mikal come deep inside her she simply exploded with pleasure and joy, and was very surprised when he stayed hard and kept going.

Melisaunde screamed with ticklish agony and orgasmic pleasure, again and again. The climaxes were now blending into each other, the next one starting before the last one subsided. Shrieking with laughter, bucking and twisting in joyous desperation, the utterly driven-wild Melisaunde felt Mikal climax inside her a second time, triggering a virtual eruption of pleasure in her. He yelled; "Enough!" and the tickling stopped.

Mikal unbound Melisaunde's wrists, then he stood with her held in one arm and reached back to open the foot stocks. Her arms happily twined about his neck as he stood her on her tingling feet. She leaned against him, gasping for breath until her knees solidified and she could stand unaided again.

Again, Mikal led his ladies to the table to rest. They had light snacks and rich sweet wine as restoratives. After a while, Estania wondered aloud if Mikal, mighty as he was, had anything left to give her and Roxelana after sating Christine and going twice with Melisaunde. Mikal laughed. He assured them that there would be plenty of him to go around for all of them, and then told Estania it was now her turn.

Mikal walked around the table and lifted Estania out of her seat, into his arms. He carried her into the playroom in the crook of his left arm, while tickling her torso with his right hand. He loved the way the tickling made her squirm, and so did she.

In the playroom, Mikal deposited Estania on her knees upon a padded platform. The top of the platform was tilted at an angle of about 30 degrees from horizontal, with her knees at the higher edge, her ankles at the lower.

Mikal fastened broad, padded leather cuffs around Estania's lower legs, covering the shanks from above the ankles to just below the bulges of the calves. The cuffs were contoured and segmented, so that the sections could each be snugged in to the exact shape of her shanks.

This attachment at several points made it quite impossible for Estania to move her lower legs at all. She felt extremely vulnerable, kneeling naked with her knees widely spread. The feeling was delicious. She licked her lips in anticipation of what she knew was coming soon.

Holding on to Estania's left hand to ensure that she would not fall over backward, Mikal took two steps to her left, extending her arm in the process. He reached out and grasped a dangling cuff. This cuff was fastened to the ceiling and the wall.

Mikal fastened the cuff snugly but not tightly around Estania's left wrist. He went to the wall to adjust the tension on the ropes, then went to her right wrist and fastened it in a similar way. Each of her arms formed an upward angle of 45 degrees to the vertical.

Mikal then ran a horizontal rope from wall to wall just at the level of Estania's head. In the middle of this rope was a wooden board, finished and polished. This board was three inches from top to bottom, an inch thick and about three feet long. The rope was attached to heavy rings at the ends.

The board was brought to directly behind Estania's head. There were three padded leather cuffs attached to it. Mikal fastened the center one around her forehead, the other two around her upper arms. She was utterly helpless.

Mikal intertwined his fingers with Estania's, pressing his palms against hers. Smiling at her, gazing into her eyes, he leaned in and kissed her. He ran his palms and fingers down her arms, across her shoulder blades and down her flanks to her waist. He caressed and lightly squeezed her buttocks, then ran his hands down the backs of her thighs to her knee hollows. He kissed her again, then he stepped back and grinned. He commanded; "Ladies; make her laugh for me."

Christine had seen that Estania's spine seemed extremely responsive. Christine knelt on the padded platform between Estania's spread legs, and at once began running her fingertips up and down the inviting groove of Estania's spinal column.

Estania squealed in surprise and desperately arched her body forward, futilely trying to evade the exquisite torment of tickling running up and down her back. In front, Melisaunde stood, a whisk broom of soft horsehair held in each hand.

As Estania arched forward, Melisaunde used the horsehair brushes to tickle her belly, which made arch desperately back again, helplessly laughing. Mikal, lounging at his ease on a couch with an excellent view of the proceedings, heard that sweet sound, and sighed; "Ahhhhhh! How musical."

The combined ministrations of Christine and Melisaunde kept the happily chortling Estania bouncing from fully arched forward to fully arched backward, until she arrived at a sort of dynamic equilibrium, vibrating like a plucked harp string.

Melisaunde and Christine made eye contact, and nodded. Melisaunde tossed Christine one of the brushes. Christine began using the brush and one hand to tickle Estania's right flank and armpit, while Melisaunde did the same on Estania's left side.

Estania found herself wildly squirming from side to side as her body refused to admit that there was simply no way to protect her tender skin from the wonderful, terrible tickling sensations assailing her tactile sense. She was also delightedly laughing. It was such wicked torture, and yet it felt so awfully good!

After a few minutes of this, Estania's body stopped struggling. She simply hung limp in her bonds and just laughed. That was when Roxelana pounced!

Roxelana had carefully chosen a pair of long, broad, semi-firm feathers with a silky texture to the fronds. Holding these horizontal, Roxelana brought them slowly, slowly, ever so slowly down Estania's heels, down the flats of Estania's soles, creeping excruciatingly across the low domes of the balls of Estania's feet to the short flat surface just before the stems of the toes emerged. There, Roxelana drew them back and forth before starting the return trip, just as slowly and patiently, up the ticklish feet so defenselessly displayed before her.

Estania simply went crazy! With fingertips tickling her armpits, with soft horsehairs teasing her flanks, the additional tickle of feathers exploring her tender bare feet was too much for her!

Estania's feet flexed and scrunched and then flexed again. Her torso twisted frantically from one side to the other. Her belly bulged out with the force of her diaphragm sucking in great, sudden lungfulls of air. Then, her belly went hollow as that same muscle expelled all that air as a roaring guffaw of laughter.

Estania's eyes tightly closed. Tears began trickling from under her eyelids. Then her eyes snapped open widely. Estania had felt Mikal's huge, masculine hands on the soft skin of her inner thighs, not so much tickling as teasing, although doing some of both. She saw Mikal standing in front of her, tenderly smiling at her helpless torment, adding to it as hands wandered gently over her inner thighs, groin, crotch, then leapt up to linger on her breasts and then back again.

After several minutes of sweet madness, Estania's body was right on the verge of
explosion. In all of her life, including her earlier session with Mikal, Estania had never before been so deeply aroused. Through all her laughter and writhing, she desperately wanted to offer herself to her beloved conqueror. She wanted her master to take her.

She wanted to feel him enjoy her! Mikal could sense that, and that's when he entered her. Taking the last short step forward he placed himself in her and leaned into her till their whole bodies were firmly in contact. His own hands were tickling her buttocks, her spine, her hips and the backs of her upper thighs. Christine was tickling Estania's knee hollows.

Melisaunde put down her brushes and Roxelana her feathers. They each took a foot, and were using their nails and the pads of their fingers to tickle Estania's toes and her arches. Mikal was doing everything right. He was causing wave after wave of pleasure to emanate from Estania's G-spot and clit.

Estania climaxed, and Mikal stopped moving. He knew she would soon grow immensely more sensitive, and he simply stood still except for his hands. He allowed Estania's own movement, her uncontrollable response to the utterly maddening tickling, to bring on her second, third and fourth orgasms.

When Mikal stoppered Estania's laughing mouth with a deep, sweet kiss, her fifth climax coincided with his own. He took a deep breath. The other women paused. Then he said; "I am still ready. Continue, my dears."

So they did. It took him longer the second time, and his second climax triggered her eleventh. Releasing her from her bonds, he carried Estania to the bath. All of them tenderly washed each other.

Unobtrusive servants again brought sweet wine and light snacks. The five lovers
relaxed as they talked. Eventually, Mikal grinned at Roxelana; "Your turn now. Last, as you were first."

Roxelana gulped, but rose gracefully and laid her hand on Mikal's arm as he led her to the playroom, followed by the other three with happy smiles. Considering as he walked, Mikal led her to a device of his own design, which he called a vertical pleasure frame.

The device rested on a pedestal in the shape of a very steep sided pyramid with the top lopped off to leave a flat surface. Rising from this surface were two stout, slotted upright beams of smoothed and polished wood, and carved into the surface between the beams were two teardrop shaped depressions lined with heavy padding.

A set of thick poles with various attachments were stored in the base. These were
designed to fit into the slots in the beams at various heights and then lock into place.

Mikal had Roxelana kneel on the top with her knees in the padded depressions. He adjusted the height of the top above the floor so that her hips were at the same level as his. He set the first crossbar at the level of her waist. This had a thick pad on the front, which forced Roxelana's hips to thrust forward. It also had a wooden square depending from the back, with hinged ankle restraints protruding backward from there.

Mikal instructed Roxelana to hang on to the uprights to hold her position while he walked around behind her. He lifted her trim ankles one at a time and fitted them into the deep padding of the restraint blocks. The bottoms of her feet faced up towards the ceiling.

When the blocks had been closed and locked, Mikal slid off thin wooden lids on wooden wedges protruding farther back from each block. Under those lids were troughs of an adhesive clay.

Mikal gently spread Roxelana's toes, and pressed each one into the clay. The suction of the clay on her toenails, combined with a position allowing no leverage, made it impossible for her to move her toes. The flesh of each toe was completely exposed.

The resulting position of her feet, with the balls pointed while the toes were both splayed wide and flexed back, looked awkward but was really quite comfortable. It maximized the depth and curve of her arches while stretching the skin of her soles taut.

Mikal took out the second crossbar and positioned it behind Roxelana's head. This bar had a smaller pad at the center, and wide, padded leather cuffs to either side. He fastened her head in place with a padded strap across her forehead.

Then Mikal fastened the side cuffs around Roxelana's upper arms. She no longer
needed to hold on to the uprights, even though the combination of the padded cups holding her knees, the pad at the small of her back and the cuffs on her upper arms caused her back to arch forward.

Finally Mikal drew forth the third crossbar. This one had only two padded cuffs on it, smaller than the ones on the middle bar. He positioned this bar above Roxelana's head, at the right height to hold her wrists with her arms at full extension. He leaned in to kiss her, long and slow. Then he pulled up a chair, lounged in it with one leg draped over a chair arm, and signaled the other ladies to proceed.

Melisaunde, Christine and Estania had conferred as they walked to the playroom. They gathered in front of Roxelana and all three began tickling her belly.

The fiendish giggles of the three doing the tickling were completely drowned out by the sweet laughter of Roxelana. Mikal noted with interest how her belly rippled with her laughter. This went on for a while that seemed endless to Roxelana, but she didn't mind; she could see the interest and enjoyment on the face of her newly beloved Mikal, and that was compensation enough.

Christine and Estania picked up feathers and began tickling Roxelana's ears while Melisaunde, who was allergic to feathers, began tickling Roxelana's throat, the sides of her neck and under her chin with both hands. Roxelana was desperately trying to move her head, but she couldn't. The strap was immovable. Giggles and squeals and eeking screams spilled from her mouth in a steady stream. The beginnings of arousal she could see due to Mikal's sprawled position were causing her to become aroused as well.

Melisaunde's fingers jumped down to tickle Roxelana's ribs. Each of the other two girls took a second feather. Estania leaned a round behind Roxelana and started to stroke the feathers across her helplessly exposed armpits, while Christine used her feathers to stroke back and forth along the undersides of Roxelana's breasts.

Roxelana was hooting with laughter as the feathers and fingers teased her ticklish flesh. Her luscious torso was quivering, twisting from side to side, wriggling as far as it could in her restraints. In between closing her eyes tightly, she kept sneaking glances at Mikal. He was smiling broadly. He was slowly becoming erect yet again, and the thought of that thrilled Roxelana, because she knew that this time it would be for her.

Estania and Christine sat on the floor. Estania started to use her feathers on Roxelana's buttocks, the backs of her thighs and the backs of her knees. Christine began tickling Roxelana's tender inner thighs. Melisaunde's fingers moved from Roxelana's ribs to her sides, gliding up and down, slowly at first, and then steadily faster and faster.

Roxelana was laughing and growing extremely turned on. Her nipples were rigid, her labia fully engorged, her clit stiff and starting to emerge. She was thoroughly lubricated and starting to drip.

Mikal cleared his throat to gain the attention of the three rapt ticklers. He rose to his feet and began to walk toward the defenseless but eager Roxelana. He made half circle motions with his hands, and the three tickle nymphs moved around behind Roxelana. Christine and Estania dropped their feathers.

Estania positioned herself right behind Roxelana, Melisaunde to her right rear, Christine to her left rear. The three knelt, and started to tickle Roxelana's defenseless bare feet while Mikal in front of her and picked up two of the discarded feathers.

Melisaunde started with the fingers of her left hand swirling slowly across the balls of Roxelana's right foot, while the fingers of Melly's right hand stroked slowly up and down the flat of Roxelana's right sole. On the other side, Christine used the nails of her left hand to make gentle circles on Roxelana's left heel, while the nails of her right were gliding up and down on the flat of that sole.

The tightly stretched skin was intensely responsive. Roxelana had never before in her life laughed so hard. Then it got worse, because Estania joined in. Estania was using the pads and the nails of her fingers alternately to tease and torment Roxelana's immobilized toes. Roxelana laughed even harder, desperately striving to move her poor, tormented feet.

Then things got immensely worse, and yet at the same time immensely better. Mikal was using the feathers he had picked up to stroke up and down Roxelana's labia.

Roxelana howled in ticklish agony. Her arousal went beyond any bounds she had ever known. Mikal leaned in and flickered the tip of her clit with his tongue and she came gloriously......but the tickling continued unabated. As before when she was alone with Mikal, the climax released a spate of hormones which had the effect of nearly doubling her tactile sensitivity.

The tickling sensations grew truly unbearable! Melisaunde's ten fingers wandered all over the sole of Roxelana's right foot, teasing the greater and lesser balls, the flats and the heels. Christine's nails did the same to Roxelana's left foot. Estania was now concentrating her tickle attack in between Roxelana's spread toes and right on the exquisitely sensitive tips. Roxelana shrilled in agonized laughter, that was the only word for it.

Then Mikal entered her with his erect manhood, and everything changed. The sheer tickled anguish was transmuted into pleasure, the agony was suffused with joy. The laughter metamorphosed from desperate shrills into happy guffaws.

Then Mikal reached around both of Roxelana's sides, and his fingertips settled on her invitingly displayed, deep, sexy arches. They started to stroke, up and down. Roxelana's merry guffaws increased to loud bellows of mirth, and in less than a minute she climaxed again.

Roxelana could feel Mikal growing inside of her. The tickling was driving her mad, but it was a madness of delight. The look of wild joy on his handsome, adored face thrilled her unutterably. His skilled fingers started to swirl on her delicate arches, and the tickling sensations grew stronger yet. She came for the third time. A few minutes later a fourth climax rocked her.

Roxelana's entire body writhed in incredible, tortured enjoyment. Mikal's tickling
fingertips went from the swirl to the spiderdance, impossibly adding yet one final
increment to the already unendurable tickling sensations that addled her brain and racked her body.

Roxelana began having rapid fire orgasms, each blending into the next. After what seemed like a starkly impossible length of time locked in continuous climaxes, Roxelana felt Mikal cum, pumping into her as he shut down her laughter with a ferocious kiss. In a moment that seemed to continue forever, Roxelana felt her very self carried aloft on a bright cloud of ecstasy.

When they both peaked and started to subside, Mikal broke the kiss to bark; "Stop", and Estania, Christine and Melisaunde stopped.

The three women and Mikal now were firmly, soothingly running their palms all over Roxelana's tingling skin, soothing the tingles away. Mikal opened the bonds and released her.

Mikal swept Roxelana up in his arms, and carried her back to the bedroom where
another of the ubiquitous, unobtrusive servants had turned back the covers. He laid Roxelana down on the bed, then he lay down beside her, his head and shoulders propped by the bolster and pillows.

Mikal kicked off the covers, and gestured to the others to join them. They petted and then slept, the five lovers cuddled together. Roxelana's head lay on his left shoulder, Estania's on the left side of his chest. Melisaunde and Christine occupied the corresponding positions on his right. With a group sigh of deep contentment, they all drifted off into happy dreams.

The End

(Um - got in a hurry to get it posted in the end. Sorry if the formating is screwy.)

 

[TICKLELOVERS]

Well! But for the manhood references, the perfect tale.
Love,
Heather and Anna