Intruder_Alert
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Hi, friends! I finally created an account after years of stalking and decided to post this little story I wrote at work today. This is my first story so please be kind. I'm no professional and apologize in advance for any poor edits or typos.
Warnings: Intense, non-con, MMMMMMMMM/F, gang tickling, kidnapping, sexual themes, mild degrading language, gagging and bondage, device bondage, machines, and poor historical accuracy (lol).
Additional Warning: The story is quite lengthy, because being long-winded is my secondary kink.
Anna suspected the King’s men were coming for her to moment she spotted the royal carriages on the lower road. Sure enough, within the hour they had broken down the feeble front door of Anna’s hut and put her in chains, seizing the deed to her land and livestock before they loaded the poor peasant girl into their caravan.
As we their right, Anna knew. The King could seize property – and people – whenever he wished. But that didn’t stop Anna from fighting, so much so that the King’s Guards had to bind her wrists and ankles with added chains and used their own belts to gag her.
The ride to the castle took over an hour, and Anna was exhausted by the time the carriage passed the heavy iron gates, closing behind the parade of carriages and sealing her inside the castle grounds. When the driver finally opened the door, Anna was thrust into the expansive courtyard, the sun hidden behind towering parapets and an endless row of stone pillars supporting the higher levels of the fortress.
Anna may have been impressed if she wasn’t so terrified. She knew that women seized by the King never returned home. It had happened to her friends - lovely young women stolen from their beds or from the fields while they worked. The King seemed to select unmarried women, specifically those with no family in town. Women very few in town would miss if they never returned home.
Now, Anna realized with a pang in her chest, it was her turn. As the Guards dragged her bound body through the castle doors, she said a silent goodbye to the sun and the blue spring sky, knowing she may never see them again.
Once inside the candlelit castle, Anna couldn’t fight back as the strong King’s guards dragged her through the ornate corridors and toward the iron doors in a far wing, leading her quickly to a long spiral staircase. Then the men carried her down, down, down…into the inky blackness below the castle floors.
Faint torches flickered to life when they reached the bottom of the stairs, and horror struck through Anna as she realized she was in the dungeons. It was more grotesque than she could have imagined – a collection of cells and torture equipment, cruel instruments of pain hung on every wall, stretching on forever in all directions.
She would never leave, Anna knew.
The guards dragged their poor victim through the rows of cells…all empty, Anna realized. No one left alive in these dungeons. They walked for nearly half an hour before they finally reached an annex room, and then Anna was dragged inside, the interior doors sealed shut behind her.
The first thing she saw was the table. A stretching table, the kind she’d heard about in horror stories whispered over roaring hearths. A massive oak table, with a pair of stocks waiting at one end, and heavy chains fixed at the other. But the strangest feature was in the center of the table, where a large wheel was built into the wood, its outer rim lined with something that looked like feather brushes, the kind Anna may have used to dust her meager shack.
Other devices lined the room – strange chairs with restraints, ropes hanging from the ceiling, large X-shaped racks decked with cuffs. On the walls were tools of every sort, from riding crops and tasseled whips to feathers and brushes…brushes that resembled her hairbrushes back home. Every item left Anna shaking with fear, and even more so when she was dragged by the guards to stand in front of an antique mirror in the far corner.
There, two guards held her body still while two others loosed their daggers. Anna gasped, but the weapons did not strike her. Instead, the guards set about cutting off her clothing – her old peasant dress, her stockings, her underthings…they all fell to a heap beneath her feet.
Then Anna was forced to stare at herself. Though she was hardly 19, she had developed into a lovely lady…at least according to the local boys. Her breasts were a bit large on her slender frame, but she had graceful hips and long, thin legs. Her light skin had tanned nicely in the spring sunshine, and her chestnut hair flowed to her lower back in gentle waves. Her green eyes burned with tears as she stared at herself, so bare and exposed in the cold, drafty dungeon.
The guards feasted their eyes on naked Anna as they forced her toward that dreadful table. They finally released her bonds, but only long enough to secure her into the bindings of the rack. These were much more secure, and soon Anna was fixed down by her wrists, forearms, thighs, calves, and ankles, with her feet shoved into the stocks. The feathered wheel slipped between her legs, and Anna cringed at the touch of one of the feathers against her soft womanhood.
Anna pulled against her restraints to no avail. Her body trembled as she felt her shoes being removed, and then the peasant girl giggled against her will as her sensitive toes were suddenly tied back with twine, forcing her soles to go taut.
One of the guards ran a hand along Anna’s soft left sole, and her body seized. She was ticklish – extremely, cruelly ticklish, so much so that she struggled to even walk barefoot in high grass during the summertime. The guard at her feet grinned lewdly, dragging his calloused finger up and down her sole once more before returning to stand near her head.
“By order of the King, you are sentenced to lifetime imprisonment,” the guard growled. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
On command, the guards around her face loosed the belt restrained her mouth, and Anna stumbled for her voice. “P-Please, sir! I h-haven’t done a-a-anything! I am innocent! Pleaseee!”
The guards only grinned at her begging. In one fluid motion, the guard holding the belt laid it across Anna’s forehead, then tightened it to the table below, locking her head down helplessly and leaving her elegant neck exposed. Another guard stepped away and returned with a wider leather strap, which he plastered over her mouth and then locked tightly behind her ears.
Once Anna was gagged again, the guard dragged a single finger down the length of Anna’s neck, and her entire body tensed as a wave of sensitivity rocked her.
“If there are no legitimate objections,” one of the guards said, “then you are found guilty, and your sentencing is final. The King himself will administer his justice.”
Tears slipped from Anna’s eyes. The King? The King himself was coming? Though she couldn’t turn her bound head, Anna heard the iron doors open a moment later, and the eight guards surrounding her naked body bowed deeply as another man appeared. A towering, handsome man with a brown beard, his robes made of fine purple satin, his head crowned with gold and rubies.
“Pretty one you bring me today,” the King said to his men, and the guards bowed deeper at the praise. “What crimes has she committed?”
“Treason against the crown,” one of the guards said. “Thievery, adultery, and public indecency.”
Anna tried to shake her head, tried to scream All lies! But she was helpless. Above her, the handsome King looked down with a smirk. “Naughty girl,” he said dryly, his eyes running over the length of her body. “She deserves this punishment, clearly. Bring the potion.”
Anna’s blood ran cold. Without moving her head, she watched one of the guards step away and return a moment later with a large bottle full of swirling purple liquid. Her heart pounded as the bottle was uncorked, and that strange, ethereal liquid poured over her nude body, slipping across her not like water, but like…magic.
“A sensitizing potion made by my favorite sorceress,” the King explained, almost bored as he watched the oil crawl over every inch of Anna’s helpless body. The liquid slipped itself around every curve, from her neck to her toes and even between her trembling legs, coating her body until it glowed purple and then…disappearing, leaving behind a slight sheen on her skin.
But Anna could feel it – could feel how her sensitive body had tripled in feeling, how even the air disturbed her bare, bound flesh. She felt so sensitive, so…ticklish.
The King smirked down at her. “Men, assume your positions,” he ordered. The men obeyed at once, spreading around her, while the King remained at her side, that lewd smile on his handsome face.
Then, as chills ran over Anna’s exposed skin, the guards and the King touched their fingers to her body…
And Anna’s sensitive skin exploded with ticklish agony.
They were tickling her. Tickle torturing her…that was the only way Anna could describe it. The men had all taken positions – one at her exposed neck, one targeting her underarms, two at her taut belly, and three at her feet. Their skilled fingers set about tickling Anna’s sensitive body, and ticklishness coursed through her, more extreme than any torture she had ever known.
This was why none of the other girls ever returned, Anna knew. If they had been subjected to this…surely they had died from the tickle torture now overpowering her own body.
At her feet, two of the guards tickled their merciless fingers up and down her taut, oiled soles, while the third danced his fingertips under and between her tied toes. The feeling was more torturous than Anna could have imagined, but it was worsened by the incessant tickling over the rest of her body – the fingertips drumming lightly up and down her sensitive neck, scratching endlessly under her arms, and prodding along her ribs and in her sensitive belly button with expert precision.
The final guard was stationed at the wheel between her legs, and as Anna screamed into her gag, the man reached for a handle beneath the table and cranked it, turning the feathered wheel. The ring of feathers began to brush against her pussy, caressing against her sensitized clit and every inch of her womanhood.
Sparks danced before Anna’s eyes as her most private space was wrecked with feather tickling. She fought against her bonds, but they were too tight, too strong. She could do nothing but suffer as her body, made more sensitive than she could have imagined from the evil potion, suffering under every stroke of finger and feather.
By her side, the King observed the scene with a broad, cruel smile. “Naughty girl,” he said quietly. Then he raised his own hands and brought them to hover over Anna’s heaving breasts. “One last spot,” he threatened, and his fingers lowered onto her perked, helpless nipples.
Waves of intense ticklish suffering and eroticism coursed through Anna’s body as her hyperticklish nipples were tickled. Her generous bosom bounced, but the King’s hands never strayed from those nipples, and Anna felt her tickled pussy growing wet as her breasts were teased. The King watched each bounce with unfaltering interest, his eyes darkening, his fine pants tightening as he tickled and tickled and tickled and tickled those rose-pink nipples.
And Anna…she could do nothing but suffer. Tears slipped from her eyes as the tickling worsened, her body growing more sensitive with every brush of fingers, every flitting of feathers. The men laughed as they tortured her, and they commented on her body – “Lovely feet this lass has!” “Aye, look at that slender belly. I can count these ribs.” “Pretty neck, too. So ticklish…” “Nothing compared to those tits, your Grace.”
The King only grinned like a Cheshire Cat as he tickled Anna’s sensitive breasts, his entire focus narrowing to those perky, too-ticklish nipples. An army could not have torn the King away from her now, Anna knew, and tears flowed from her eyes over her burning cheeks.
“Crank that wheel faster,” one of the guards barked at another, and indeed the wheel turned faster, the feathers tormenting her quivering clit and aching pussy. The feathers even teased her ass, and the torment was too much, too unbearable for poor, innocent Anna.
An hour ticked by…then another. With each minute, Anna could feel her sanity slipping away, her sensitive body breaking along with her mind. The tickling did not stop for a minute. It did not slow, not at all. Even the King remained steadfast, tickling those helpless nipples with renewed fervor. On Hour Four, the King broke from his erotic trance long enough to bark down at the men at Anna’s feet, “Brushes. Now.”
The tickling still didn’t falter as the men reached for horsehair brushes, and Anna screamed wildly into her gag as the bristles began to scrub her taut soles. The guard tickling her toes also reached for a brush – a coarse, flat paintbrush that fit perfectly along the entire length of her bound toes. With his brush, the guard could tickle beneath every toe at once with one hand, leaving the other to tickle the tips of her trapped toes at the same time.
Anna was broken. She could no longer fight, could no longer think of anything beside the intense tickle torture punishing her body. She didn’t even notice when the King began to breathe heavily, his eyes narrowing on her suffering body. At Hour Seven, he commanded his men to use their mouths as well as their hands, and Anna cried out as eight tongues began to flick across her neck, armpits, tummy, and toes. One of the men at her waist dipped his tongue into her belly button, and the one cracking the wheel set about nibbling her inner thighs until her legs shook in their bondage.
Even the King lowered his head, running his tongue over one sensitive nipple while both his hands tickled the other.
Another hour slipped by, and then without warning, Anna heard the handsome King cry out. His hands stumbled across her nipples, and Anna watched as his hungry eyes closed tight, his mouth setting in a hard line. He grunted, and then his hips thrust forward…and the King orgasmed by her side, the large bulge in his pants rising and falling as he felt his release.
The guards did not react. They only continued their tickle torture, loudly announcing Anna’s ticklishness, her helplessness, her beauty. A moment later, the King cried out again as another orgasm ripped through him.
Only then did the tickling begin to subside. Not entirely, not at first. But over the next two hours, the tickling of Anna’s bound body gradually subsided to a slow, erotic tease as the King found his release again and again. And when the King could no longer stand, his men helped him, leaving their tickling posts and taking the King’s arms over their shoulders.
Only then did Anna feel any sort of relief. She breathed hard through her nose, dizzy from the strength of her gag. Stars and tears danced in her eyes, and she was broken…out of her mind from the torment.
“Well done, your Grace,” one said. He ran his eyes across Anna’s tickle-ruined body. “You’ve done well with the slut tonight.”
The exhausted King frowned as he panted, eyeing up nude, defenseless Anna. “We didn’t tickle enough,” he growled. “She hasn’t suffered enough yet.”
Anna’s thrumming heart sputtered as she locked eye with the evil King. He wants more! No, please!
“She will be here tomorrow,” another guard reminded his King. “We can get an earlier start in the morning, if you’d like.”
“Earlier start,” the King agreed through heavy breathing. “And bring more potion. I need her more sensitive.”
No, no! Anna was too weak to even bother pulling at her restraints, but she was begging behind her gag. Please, no, no more!
The guards nodded their agreement. At last, they were stepping away, finally leaving Anna’s sensitive body. The poor peasant girl sighed into her gag. But the King stopped, frowning again before he barked, “Set the wheel to work through the night.”
Anna’s body seized. No, no, please, please!
Right away, the guard who had worked the wheel ducked below the table, and Anna heard a switch click, as if gears were moving together. At once the wheel began to spin again, as fast as it had through the hours of her torture, and those infernal fathers began to stroke Anna’s bare pussy once more, dancing over her tickle-exhausted clitoris.
Ticklishness tore through Anna’s middle, and she screamed into her gag once more. Above her, the King smiled.
“Good,” he said. “Leave her to suffer through the night.” Then he leaned over close enough to whisper in Anna’s ear, “I’ll be back for those nipples in the morning, little slut. And you’ll be twice as ticklish tomorrow.”
Poor Anna could do nothing but cry as the King’s guards led him away, and as they extinguished the torches, Anna was left alone in the dark dungeon, her bound pussy sentenced to be feathered all night long by the horrible torture wheel.
Warnings: Intense, non-con, MMMMMMMMM/F, gang tickling, kidnapping, sexual themes, mild degrading language, gagging and bondage, device bondage, machines, and poor historical accuracy (lol).
Additional Warning: The story is quite lengthy, because being long-winded is my secondary kink.
Anna suspected the King’s men were coming for her to moment she spotted the royal carriages on the lower road. Sure enough, within the hour they had broken down the feeble front door of Anna’s hut and put her in chains, seizing the deed to her land and livestock before they loaded the poor peasant girl into their caravan.
As we their right, Anna knew. The King could seize property – and people – whenever he wished. But that didn’t stop Anna from fighting, so much so that the King’s Guards had to bind her wrists and ankles with added chains and used their own belts to gag her.
The ride to the castle took over an hour, and Anna was exhausted by the time the carriage passed the heavy iron gates, closing behind the parade of carriages and sealing her inside the castle grounds. When the driver finally opened the door, Anna was thrust into the expansive courtyard, the sun hidden behind towering parapets and an endless row of stone pillars supporting the higher levels of the fortress.
Anna may have been impressed if she wasn’t so terrified. She knew that women seized by the King never returned home. It had happened to her friends - lovely young women stolen from their beds or from the fields while they worked. The King seemed to select unmarried women, specifically those with no family in town. Women very few in town would miss if they never returned home.
Now, Anna realized with a pang in her chest, it was her turn. As the Guards dragged her bound body through the castle doors, she said a silent goodbye to the sun and the blue spring sky, knowing she may never see them again.
Once inside the candlelit castle, Anna couldn’t fight back as the strong King’s guards dragged her through the ornate corridors and toward the iron doors in a far wing, leading her quickly to a long spiral staircase. Then the men carried her down, down, down…into the inky blackness below the castle floors.
Faint torches flickered to life when they reached the bottom of the stairs, and horror struck through Anna as she realized she was in the dungeons. It was more grotesque than she could have imagined – a collection of cells and torture equipment, cruel instruments of pain hung on every wall, stretching on forever in all directions.
She would never leave, Anna knew.
The guards dragged their poor victim through the rows of cells…all empty, Anna realized. No one left alive in these dungeons. They walked for nearly half an hour before they finally reached an annex room, and then Anna was dragged inside, the interior doors sealed shut behind her.
The first thing she saw was the table. A stretching table, the kind she’d heard about in horror stories whispered over roaring hearths. A massive oak table, with a pair of stocks waiting at one end, and heavy chains fixed at the other. But the strangest feature was in the center of the table, where a large wheel was built into the wood, its outer rim lined with something that looked like feather brushes, the kind Anna may have used to dust her meager shack.
Other devices lined the room – strange chairs with restraints, ropes hanging from the ceiling, large X-shaped racks decked with cuffs. On the walls were tools of every sort, from riding crops and tasseled whips to feathers and brushes…brushes that resembled her hairbrushes back home. Every item left Anna shaking with fear, and even more so when she was dragged by the guards to stand in front of an antique mirror in the far corner.
There, two guards held her body still while two others loosed their daggers. Anna gasped, but the weapons did not strike her. Instead, the guards set about cutting off her clothing – her old peasant dress, her stockings, her underthings…they all fell to a heap beneath her feet.
Then Anna was forced to stare at herself. Though she was hardly 19, she had developed into a lovely lady…at least according to the local boys. Her breasts were a bit large on her slender frame, but she had graceful hips and long, thin legs. Her light skin had tanned nicely in the spring sunshine, and her chestnut hair flowed to her lower back in gentle waves. Her green eyes burned with tears as she stared at herself, so bare and exposed in the cold, drafty dungeon.
The guards feasted their eyes on naked Anna as they forced her toward that dreadful table. They finally released her bonds, but only long enough to secure her into the bindings of the rack. These were much more secure, and soon Anna was fixed down by her wrists, forearms, thighs, calves, and ankles, with her feet shoved into the stocks. The feathered wheel slipped between her legs, and Anna cringed at the touch of one of the feathers against her soft womanhood.
Anna pulled against her restraints to no avail. Her body trembled as she felt her shoes being removed, and then the peasant girl giggled against her will as her sensitive toes were suddenly tied back with twine, forcing her soles to go taut.
One of the guards ran a hand along Anna’s soft left sole, and her body seized. She was ticklish – extremely, cruelly ticklish, so much so that she struggled to even walk barefoot in high grass during the summertime. The guard at her feet grinned lewdly, dragging his calloused finger up and down her sole once more before returning to stand near her head.
“By order of the King, you are sentenced to lifetime imprisonment,” the guard growled. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
On command, the guards around her face loosed the belt restrained her mouth, and Anna stumbled for her voice. “P-Please, sir! I h-haven’t done a-a-anything! I am innocent! Pleaseee!”
The guards only grinned at her begging. In one fluid motion, the guard holding the belt laid it across Anna’s forehead, then tightened it to the table below, locking her head down helplessly and leaving her elegant neck exposed. Another guard stepped away and returned with a wider leather strap, which he plastered over her mouth and then locked tightly behind her ears.
Once Anna was gagged again, the guard dragged a single finger down the length of Anna’s neck, and her entire body tensed as a wave of sensitivity rocked her.
“If there are no legitimate objections,” one of the guards said, “then you are found guilty, and your sentencing is final. The King himself will administer his justice.”
Tears slipped from Anna’s eyes. The King? The King himself was coming? Though she couldn’t turn her bound head, Anna heard the iron doors open a moment later, and the eight guards surrounding her naked body bowed deeply as another man appeared. A towering, handsome man with a brown beard, his robes made of fine purple satin, his head crowned with gold and rubies.
“Pretty one you bring me today,” the King said to his men, and the guards bowed deeper at the praise. “What crimes has she committed?”
“Treason against the crown,” one of the guards said. “Thievery, adultery, and public indecency.”
Anna tried to shake her head, tried to scream All lies! But she was helpless. Above her, the handsome King looked down with a smirk. “Naughty girl,” he said dryly, his eyes running over the length of her body. “She deserves this punishment, clearly. Bring the potion.”
Anna’s blood ran cold. Without moving her head, she watched one of the guards step away and return a moment later with a large bottle full of swirling purple liquid. Her heart pounded as the bottle was uncorked, and that strange, ethereal liquid poured over her nude body, slipping across her not like water, but like…magic.
“A sensitizing potion made by my favorite sorceress,” the King explained, almost bored as he watched the oil crawl over every inch of Anna’s helpless body. The liquid slipped itself around every curve, from her neck to her toes and even between her trembling legs, coating her body until it glowed purple and then…disappearing, leaving behind a slight sheen on her skin.
But Anna could feel it – could feel how her sensitive body had tripled in feeling, how even the air disturbed her bare, bound flesh. She felt so sensitive, so…ticklish.
The King smirked down at her. “Men, assume your positions,” he ordered. The men obeyed at once, spreading around her, while the King remained at her side, that lewd smile on his handsome face.
Then, as chills ran over Anna’s exposed skin, the guards and the King touched their fingers to her body…
And Anna’s sensitive skin exploded with ticklish agony.
They were tickling her. Tickle torturing her…that was the only way Anna could describe it. The men had all taken positions – one at her exposed neck, one targeting her underarms, two at her taut belly, and three at her feet. Their skilled fingers set about tickling Anna’s sensitive body, and ticklishness coursed through her, more extreme than any torture she had ever known.
This was why none of the other girls ever returned, Anna knew. If they had been subjected to this…surely they had died from the tickle torture now overpowering her own body.
At her feet, two of the guards tickled their merciless fingers up and down her taut, oiled soles, while the third danced his fingertips under and between her tied toes. The feeling was more torturous than Anna could have imagined, but it was worsened by the incessant tickling over the rest of her body – the fingertips drumming lightly up and down her sensitive neck, scratching endlessly under her arms, and prodding along her ribs and in her sensitive belly button with expert precision.
The final guard was stationed at the wheel between her legs, and as Anna screamed into her gag, the man reached for a handle beneath the table and cranked it, turning the feathered wheel. The ring of feathers began to brush against her pussy, caressing against her sensitized clit and every inch of her womanhood.
Sparks danced before Anna’s eyes as her most private space was wrecked with feather tickling. She fought against her bonds, but they were too tight, too strong. She could do nothing but suffer as her body, made more sensitive than she could have imagined from the evil potion, suffering under every stroke of finger and feather.
By her side, the King observed the scene with a broad, cruel smile. “Naughty girl,” he said quietly. Then he raised his own hands and brought them to hover over Anna’s heaving breasts. “One last spot,” he threatened, and his fingers lowered onto her perked, helpless nipples.
Waves of intense ticklish suffering and eroticism coursed through Anna’s body as her hyperticklish nipples were tickled. Her generous bosom bounced, but the King’s hands never strayed from those nipples, and Anna felt her tickled pussy growing wet as her breasts were teased. The King watched each bounce with unfaltering interest, his eyes darkening, his fine pants tightening as he tickled and tickled and tickled and tickled those rose-pink nipples.
And Anna…she could do nothing but suffer. Tears slipped from her eyes as the tickling worsened, her body growing more sensitive with every brush of fingers, every flitting of feathers. The men laughed as they tortured her, and they commented on her body – “Lovely feet this lass has!” “Aye, look at that slender belly. I can count these ribs.” “Pretty neck, too. So ticklish…” “Nothing compared to those tits, your Grace.”
The King only grinned like a Cheshire Cat as he tickled Anna’s sensitive breasts, his entire focus narrowing to those perky, too-ticklish nipples. An army could not have torn the King away from her now, Anna knew, and tears flowed from her eyes over her burning cheeks.
“Crank that wheel faster,” one of the guards barked at another, and indeed the wheel turned faster, the feathers tormenting her quivering clit and aching pussy. The feathers even teased her ass, and the torment was too much, too unbearable for poor, innocent Anna.
An hour ticked by…then another. With each minute, Anna could feel her sanity slipping away, her sensitive body breaking along with her mind. The tickling did not stop for a minute. It did not slow, not at all. Even the King remained steadfast, tickling those helpless nipples with renewed fervor. On Hour Four, the King broke from his erotic trance long enough to bark down at the men at Anna’s feet, “Brushes. Now.”
The tickling still didn’t falter as the men reached for horsehair brushes, and Anna screamed wildly into her gag as the bristles began to scrub her taut soles. The guard tickling her toes also reached for a brush – a coarse, flat paintbrush that fit perfectly along the entire length of her bound toes. With his brush, the guard could tickle beneath every toe at once with one hand, leaving the other to tickle the tips of her trapped toes at the same time.
Anna was broken. She could no longer fight, could no longer think of anything beside the intense tickle torture punishing her body. She didn’t even notice when the King began to breathe heavily, his eyes narrowing on her suffering body. At Hour Seven, he commanded his men to use their mouths as well as their hands, and Anna cried out as eight tongues began to flick across her neck, armpits, tummy, and toes. One of the men at her waist dipped his tongue into her belly button, and the one cracking the wheel set about nibbling her inner thighs until her legs shook in their bondage.
Even the King lowered his head, running his tongue over one sensitive nipple while both his hands tickled the other.
Another hour slipped by, and then without warning, Anna heard the handsome King cry out. His hands stumbled across her nipples, and Anna watched as his hungry eyes closed tight, his mouth setting in a hard line. He grunted, and then his hips thrust forward…and the King orgasmed by her side, the large bulge in his pants rising and falling as he felt his release.
The guards did not react. They only continued their tickle torture, loudly announcing Anna’s ticklishness, her helplessness, her beauty. A moment later, the King cried out again as another orgasm ripped through him.
Only then did the tickling begin to subside. Not entirely, not at first. But over the next two hours, the tickling of Anna’s bound body gradually subsided to a slow, erotic tease as the King found his release again and again. And when the King could no longer stand, his men helped him, leaving their tickling posts and taking the King’s arms over their shoulders.
Only then did Anna feel any sort of relief. She breathed hard through her nose, dizzy from the strength of her gag. Stars and tears danced in her eyes, and she was broken…out of her mind from the torment.
“Well done, your Grace,” one said. He ran his eyes across Anna’s tickle-ruined body. “You’ve done well with the slut tonight.”
The exhausted King frowned as he panted, eyeing up nude, defenseless Anna. “We didn’t tickle enough,” he growled. “She hasn’t suffered enough yet.”
Anna’s thrumming heart sputtered as she locked eye with the evil King. He wants more! No, please!
“She will be here tomorrow,” another guard reminded his King. “We can get an earlier start in the morning, if you’d like.”
“Earlier start,” the King agreed through heavy breathing. “And bring more potion. I need her more sensitive.”
No, no! Anna was too weak to even bother pulling at her restraints, but she was begging behind her gag. Please, no, no more!
The guards nodded their agreement. At last, they were stepping away, finally leaving Anna’s sensitive body. The poor peasant girl sighed into her gag. But the King stopped, frowning again before he barked, “Set the wheel to work through the night.”
Anna’s body seized. No, no, please, please!
Right away, the guard who had worked the wheel ducked below the table, and Anna heard a switch click, as if gears were moving together. At once the wheel began to spin again, as fast as it had through the hours of her torture, and those infernal fathers began to stroke Anna’s bare pussy once more, dancing over her tickle-exhausted clitoris.
Ticklishness tore through Anna’s middle, and she screamed into her gag once more. Above her, the King smiled.
“Good,” he said. “Leave her to suffer through the night.” Then he leaned over close enough to whisper in Anna’s ear, “I’ll be back for those nipples in the morning, little slut. And you’ll be twice as ticklish tomorrow.”
Poor Anna could do nothing but cry as the King’s guards led him away, and as they extinguished the torches, Anna was left alone in the dark dungeon, her bound pussy sentenced to be feathered all night long by the horrible torture wheel.
