Mastertank1
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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- Jan 21, 2006
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The Countess and the Cossack
By Mastertank1
Stephania Kronkiewicz was not happy, but at least not unhappy today. Her life had given her little to be happy about.
She was on her way to her second wedding. Her first had been to Count Werther Kronkiewicz of Lvov, a grandee of the Polish Empire. The wedding night had been nothing special, with the Count too drunk to perform.
In the two weeks he had allowed before returning to the camp of his beloved army, the Count’s nightly performances had been nothing special, and not given Stephania any pleasure. She sincerely hoped that the Count’s assertions, that he was as good a lover as any man and better than most, was an empty brag.
The Count had remained with the army for two years. He was of ‘Great service to the crown’ in expanding the Empire eastward along the Black Sea coastline. That’s what it said in the letter Stephania received to announce that her husband had gotten his head blown off leading a charge against the Turks. She had not found it in her to mourn long or hard.
Because Werther had died childless, the County passed to his own younger brother Csonkazh. Where Werther had been an enthusiastic soldier in love with the army, Csonkazh was an enthusiastic agronomist, in love with the land. Werther had been determined to win glory. Csonkazh was determined to increase the agriculture based wealth of the County.
When Csonkazh arrived to take up his new rank, he brought with a him a wife and two sons. The wife, who had not regained her figure after the second child, did not relish having a woman of noble rank, widowed, available and far better looking, resident in the castle. From the moment she set eyes on Stephania, the wife was after her husband to send his sister in law back to her own family.
Life in her father’s castle/palace, where the ruling lady was her father’s third wife, not her mother who had been his second, was a highly unpleasant experience. Her father regarded and treated Stephania as a valuable game piece, unexpectedly returned to him after having been played.
Her father expected Stephania to be pleased that her second marriage would be to a Duke, a step upward in rank from a Count. She did not look for much joy from any husband, having secretly believed the late Werther’s assertion that none were any better as bedmates than he was.
She did look forward to becoming the high lady of her own castle/palace. At least she would be the highest ranking woman there, even if it was new built in lands just conquered by the army her late husband had led a division of.
Stephania would now be a Duchess, the same rank her mother had held. As a Duchess, she would have influence over the construction and appointments of her new husbands residence/fortress as it was completed. That would be a fine thing, she thought.
She was protected by a military escort of two full strength troops of the Empire’s elite Uhlans, 150 of the best heavy cavalry the Empire had. They were wearing ceremonial dress rather than battle armor. Behind her new husband’s ornate, gilded coach, which he had sent for her, came a train of 8 wagons provided by her father, carrying her personal effects and her dowry.
They were passing thru a slimming in the map of the Empire. To the south were the Turkish owned provinces of Moldova and Wallachia, now in rebellion against their overlords and therefore not considered a threat. To the north, the map said only ‘unclaimed lands’.
Now Stephania’s life had been sheltered, or else her intelligence would have led her to question that. The young Sub-Lieutenant who commanded her honor guard, and the even younger Ensigns who led the two troops, should have known better.
The unfortunate fact was that officer’s in the Uhlans were chosen by noble birth, not by ability. Trained officers knew enough to ask; “If our land grows so dangerously narrow, and that to the north is unclaimed, why do we not claim it and remove the obvious danger?”
Experienced officers would not have had to ask the question. They knew the answer. The lands shown as unclaimed belonged to the Cossacks.
The Cossacks! The Polish Empire’s great, ongoing embarrassment. The Cossacks, who fought wearing little or no armor, no helmets, no discipline as western armies understood it. Whose swords, daggers, rifles, pistols and lances were made by their own self taught smiths, not by civilized armorers.
The Cossacks, who outrode, outshot and outfought the professionally armed, armored and trained Polish forces at every clash, unless the Poles resorted to treachery. Once only, the Cossacks had allied themselves with the Poles against the Turks. When the Turks had been split, and had retreated southward and eastward away from each other, the Polish artillery had opened fire on the drunkenly celebrating Cossacks, decimating them repeatedly.
The Cossack reaction was basically; “Hey! Good one on us! Next time we’ll know not to trust you!” and to scatter. When the Polish armies advanced into Cossack lands expecting to put the yoke of conquest firmly around Cossack necks, they got a rude shock.
They found every farm, town and village deserted, and most of them burnt down or burning. The Cossacks had dispersed into the hills. There they bided their time while they rebuilt their strength.
When the time came, the Cossacks had come together in rebellion and taken back the lands they had lost. They had besieged the fortress city of Dubno, then tricked it’s garrison into coming out to attack what they thought was an abandoned remnant of the Cossack forces. The Cossacks had lured the garrison into a trap, wiped it out, and taken the city to anchor the western end of their territory, just as their capitol, the greater Fortress town of Kiev, anchored the east.
Ever since, the Cossacks had raided the Poles on a regular basis. The embarrassed Poles had altered their maps. Dubno no longer existed on Polish maps. The Cossack lands ended well east of the eastern limit of the Empire, on Polish maps.
The Cossacks, who occupied all the land north of the long, narrow finger of Polish conquest along the Black Sea coast, were immensely amused when they captured Polish maps, and saw that the lands where they lived were ‘unclaimed’. They were even more amused to see that their western anchor fortress town of Dubno, populated by 20,000 people, did not seem to exist.
The Cossacks were not amused enough to cease raiding the Poles. The Poles were loath to admit the fact, but the upper levels of their army and government knew.
A series of unplanned detours had deflected the course of Stephania’s caravan. They kept getting closer and closer to those mysterious ‘unclaimed lands’. If they had been aware of who lived there, the officers could at least have ordered their men to switch from ceremonial uniform to battle armor.
In the event, the first deadly volley from the rifles of 120 concealed Cossacks emptied 60 saddles among the Uhlan guards. Before the stunned Poles could react, the Cossacks were well within pistol range. Each Cossack bore two or three pairs of pistols, and they fired as rapidly as they could point, pull the trigger, drop the spent weapons to dangle on thongs tied to the saddle, and pull the next pair.
Even in the confused, swirling melee, the flood of some 600 bullets fired at close range dropped 50 more Uhlans. The 40 remaining were each faced with 3 Cossack opponents. Even one to one, the comparatively light sabres and daggers of the Uhlans were no match for the Cossack’s heavy Shashkas and Kindjals, driven by massively muscled arms trained to wield them from earliest childhood.
Not one of the Uhlans survived. Nor did the wagoneers. In a few minutes, Cossacks were driving the wagons and coach away, the Cossack horses tied on behind. The mounts and remounts of the late Uhlans, none of them seriously injured, were all rounded up and added to the haul.
Crossing the border, they were still on good, well traveled roads. Had they not been so terrified, Stephania, along with her ladies in waiting and maidservants, might have wondered who kept up and traveled these roads, here in these lands which the map called unclaimed.
Those roads led the party to Dubno. The gates opened wide, and the party rode in. They passed through a series of fortified courtyards, and finally entered the courtyard of what had been the manor of the Lord Mayor of Dubno, It was now the residence of the hereditary Hetman of the Dneipr horde of the Cossack nation.
The raiders lined up the captured wagons and opened chests, boxes and bales to display their loot. The custom had always been, one part in four of the loot from any raid belonged to the Hetman, one part in four to the horde, and the rest to the raiders, proportionate to their ranks.
The Hetman was waiting for them on the courtyard balcony. In order to complete the display of the booty, all the captive women were led up a ramp. There, on a platform level with the floor of the balcony, all of them stood in a row. They were divested of their warm travel cloaks, which was not as bad in this sheltered courtyard as it might have been.
As soon as the travel cloaks dropped, the eyes of Hetman Mikhail Abramovitch Gelinkta were riveted to Stephania’s lushly feminine form. He shouted; “The one in the good clothes. Yes, her. Bring her over here. Up to the balcony.”
Mikhail looked at Stephania up close, and smiled. A rare occurrence, as all the horde knew. He reached out his big right hand and opened the top frog fastener of her jacket. When his hand moved down to the second, Stephania tried to stop him with her own right hand. He was so much stronger, he just continued as if her hand wasn’t there.
At the third frog, she tried to use both hands to stop him. He simply ignored her efforts, and opened the third, fourth, and then the fifth and final frog. Mikhail brushed the jacket off her shoulders. It fell down as far as her bent elbows.
Again, Mikhail smiled. Clearly, he liked what he saw. He reached out his left hand to stroke Stephania’s hair. Then that hand grasped the back of her neck, gently but quite immovably. His right hand, with the middle and index fingers extended, moved towards her throat.
Stephania was confused and afraid. She didn’t know what to expect, but what actually happened next was the very last thing she expected. He tickled her under the chin, and she burst into giggles!
Mikhail kept on tickling her cute chin for nearly a minute. Stephania, deeply embarrassed, attempted to get herself under control, but she could not stop giggling! Then Mikhail tickled her throat for a minute, and then teased the sides of her neck, then her ears.
Stephania was mortified! Right out in public, the man would not let her stop giggling! But then, when he brushed her long hair back and tickled her left ear, Stephania squealed! It tickled so much! Her giggles set Stephania’s pretty face into a wide, apple cheeked smile. That was the look Mikhail had been hoping for. That look made up his mind.
Mikhail released her and stepped back. His grin was so wide that it looked like the top of his head would fall off, and Stephania wished that it would. How she hated him, for humiliating her this way! He drew her jacket back up and closed all the fasteners. He patted her on the head, fondly, as if she were some kind of pet. She was just like the first girl Mikhail ever loved, who had been carried off by a fever so many long years ago.
Then Mikhail stepped to the balcony railing to look very hard at the booty displayed below. He took in the horses, the wagons, the other captives, the armor, the weapons, the sets of tack. He took in Stephania’s dowry, the bolts of fine cloth, the clothing, the chests of coins, and the one chest of jewelry.
Mikhail cleared his throat, very loudly. He spoke; “For the one quarter share of the horde, I choose the chest of jewelry. That will satisfy the one quarter custom.”
There were murmurs but no real mutterings. They all thought that chest contained more than one quarter of the total value of this raid’s booty, but the horde’s share would be used to benefit all of them, so that was alright.
After pausing to see if anyone objected, Mikhail spoke again; “For the one quarter share for the Hetman, myself I choose...” He turned to point at Stephania; “This girl. Her only. I take her and a few of her clothes as my entire share.”
At first there was stunned silence. Then all the raiders began cheering lustily. Even though she was a countess and due to be wed to a duke, her ransom would be only about 5% of the total value of the booty as Cossacks reckoned it.
That meant an unexpected bonus of 20% in the general pool of booty to be divided among them. Every man’s share would larger by 40%. No wonder they cheered.
With a grin and a wave to the raiders, Mikhail turned, put a huge arm across Stephania’s shoulders, and took her inside the manor house. Speaking Polish with very little accent, he said to her; “You are my share of the take from the raid. You, not your ransom. I don’t mean to ransom you at all. Not ever. I don’t want the money they would pay; I just want you, for my own.”
Stephania stopped, and she stared at Mikhail in horror. That is she tried to stop. The strength of that big bear of a man, of that massively muscled arm across her shoulders, made it impossible for her to stop moving forward. She had to keep moving her feet or be swept from them.
Sputtering, Stephania said; “Me? You want me, for your own? But why?! No one wants me just for me! They never have! Only for the alliance with my father and the size of my dowry!”
“Girl, I want you just for you. I find you beautiful. I seek no alliance with any of your people. I have all the wealth I could possibly need in ten lifetimes. Why do I want you? I mean to enjoy you. From this moment on, you are mine, my slave concubine.”
“Nooooooooo!” She shrieked. “No, never, no! I am a Countess, engaged to a Duke! I am no person’s slave! You shall never ‘enjoy’ me! I will never submit to your will, or your lust! Never!”
Despite her defiantly positive words, she was really having ambiguous feelings. In her carefully circumscribed life as a noblewoman, she had been subject to volumes of flattery from those who were seeking some kind of advantage from her. This was perhaps the first time in her life that a man who quite clearly had no ulterior motive had told her that he found her beautiful.
Somehow, to know that a powerful, masculine, and (she had to admit to herself) quite handsome man, really wanted her just for herself, desired her, lusted after HER, was not entirely unpleasant! It was really quite common for a woman in those days to marry a man twice her own age, as Mikhail was, but... She couldn’t submit. She just couldn’t. Not a noblewoman of the great Polish Empire! Not to a Cossack! She couldn’t submit, but a part of her wanted to. Oh, how it wanted to!
Mikhail, still moving her in the direction of his quarters, smiled at her indulgently. “So you mean to resist your enslavement. How admirable! It shows spirit, and fire, and those are good things in a concubine. They make her more fun to own. For some girls defiance and resistance are possible. Yes, for some girls. Not for you, little pretty bird. Never for you.”
Mikhail’s next words chilled Stephania as nothing in her life ever had. He said; “You are far, far too ticklish to maintain resistance. Certainly not against a man like myself, who knows how to use such a weakness against you.”
Stephania was terrified. That’s why he tickled her! Well, he was right. She had always been ticklish all over. The spots he had tickled, her chin, throat and neck, were among the least ticklish on her entire body.
She secretly couldn’t stop thinking about one other thing that had happened while he was tickling her. For the first time ever, Stephania had found herself growing aroused because someone was tickling her!
Perhaps it was because she was feeling his strength as he held her in place so effortlessly, while at the same he tickled her with such a gentle touch? Whatever the reason, she knew that while he was causing the tickle that made her giggle, Mikhail had also caused a different kind of tickle, akin to the earliest stage of excitement she felt when she started to pleasure herself.
Mikhail ushered her into his quarters, and ordered some female servants to undress Stephania, bathe her and dry her and then lock her into the quarter barrel stocks. These stocks were there in the bedroom, in front of the roaring fireplace. Mikhail went on to his long delayed lunch.
When he returned, Stephania awaited him. Not in a position or in attire of her own choosing, but await him she did. She had been bathed, perfumed, and rubbed down from head to toe with unguents that left her skin tingling, feeling more alive and sensitive than it ever had before. She had been lightly fed, and given some wine to drink. Then, she was locked in the barrel stocks.
Picture a large solid shaped like a large barrel; one of the ones twelve feet long and about six feet in diameter. Imagine it sliced first in halves, then in quarters by drawing a giant blade down the long axis twice. Now, take one of those quarters. You still have a shape twelve feet long. Its’ cross section has two straight sides at right angles, each three feet long, and a third side which is a quarter of a circle. Now cut off the four feet at each narrow end, and the remaining center section, resting on one of the square flat sides, is the base of the barrel stocks.
The top of the base had the stocks attachment, but this too was unusual. The wood was not ordinary planks, but an 8” by 8” beam split lengthwise. Instead of plain holes, the ankle holes, set 30 inches apart, were each contoured to match the size and shape of a female foot. By adding or removing layers of padding, the size of the cavities were adjustable.
Stephania’s feet were almost completely engulfed by the cavities in the stocks, only a bit less than half an inch of the sides sticking out. Her soles and the bottoms, tips and stems of her toes were fully exposed. Because of the cavities, her feet were unable to twitch or wiggle from side to side.
The toes of each foot had pressed into a layer of firm, sticky clay in the top of each cavity. While a strong hand could certainly pull the toes free one by one, the muscles of a woman’s feet, especially trying to work at that angle, hadn’t a hope. That meant her toes were locked into a flexed and splayed position.
Stephania’s legs hung down the curve of the barrel base, her sweetly curved, sexy bare butt just a few inches above the floor. Her wrists were locked into well padded cuffs, separated by a ten inch wooden bar, and attached to a rope running through a pulley on the ceiling. Rather than pulling her arms directly upward, the cuffs kept them at a 30 degree angle, forward from vertical. This denied her the leverage to lift herself up or to force her feet forward and out of the confining cavities against the resistance of her own body weight.
Stephania was now totally nude, and glad for the warmth of the roaring fire on the hearth to her left. Mikhail paused to drink in the sight. “Oh, how lovely.” He thought.
Mikhail was very pleased. The 5’3” Stephania had a lush, womanly body. Her firm D cup breasts were impressive. He loved the gentle roundness of her belly, the sweet, womanly curves of her flanks. Her ribs were well hidden by smooth, tender flesh. Her limbs had a feminine roundness that Mikhail found extremely appealing.
He loved the round shape of her face, and the pixyish look that her cute chin gave to her countenance. He had enjoyed the sound of Stephania’s giggles and squeal. Soon, he would hear what her laughter sounded like.
Mikhail walked around her, savoring the sight. He especially liked the view from the bottom of the stocks. Her soft soles and toes looked so helplessly appealing, nearly engulfed in the stocks as they were. Looking above the stocks, he saw shapely calves and thighs, leading to her sex.
Stephania’s hair, equal parts chocolatey brown and pale gold from the sun, hung in short waves with ringletted ends to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Mikhail was wearing a robe, and his examination of Stephania had caused him to tent that robe more and more obviously.
Hooking a padded stool with his slippered foot, Mikhail took a seat behind his lovely new toy. Time to play. His first move was to run one fingertip, with a feathery touch, down the length of Stephania’s spine from her neck to the cleft of her buttocks.
Stephanie squealed, very loudly, and then, as his finger went back up the length of her spine and back down again, she started to laugh. Mikhail drank in the intoxicating sound of her laughter, reveled in the sight of her sexy body wiggling and wriggling as his fingers tickled their way up and down the smooth curve of her spine.
The sensations Stephania was feeling were just so intense! She had never felt anyone tickle her spine before. God, this was making her feel so helpless. She kept laughing. She kept uncontrollably wriggling and writhing.
And Stephania felt the insides of his bare knees touch the two sides of her hips as he moved his stool forward. He paused in his tickling to brush her hair forward to hang down in front of her shoulders.
The next thing Stephania felt was his moustached and bearded face nuzzling the back of her neck, while all ten of his fingers were wickedly tickling their way up and down her sensitive spine. Now the helpless girl laughed, and she squirmed, but she couldn’t help noticing something else too.
As Mikhail kept on tickling and teasing her, she felt her nipples erect and her labia swell. She could feel her womanhood growing first damp, and then moist.
When Stephania turned her head to the left, Mikhail nuzzled the right side of her neck. When she turned her head back to the right, Mikhail’s mouth captured hers for a long, deep, warm kiss, and the moisture of her sex became wet and then flowing as her sexuality awakened like never before.
Mikhail’s teasing attack on Stephania’s spine had destroyed all her mental defenses before she could muster them. Now he had total control of her senses. His hands left her spine and began to explore her whole body.
Stephania’s belly was ticklish. Her ribs were ticklish. Her sides were deliciously ticklish. Her armpits were wickedly ticklish. Her thighs were sexily ticklish, especially on the inner sides. Her loins were teasily ticklish. Her breasts were excitingly ticklish, most on the undersides. For pity’s sake, even her buttocks were ticklish.
Stephania had never experienced such loss of control. Mikhail had control of her now. When he touched her in one way, she twitched. When he teased her a different way she jumped. He would stroke her here, and she squirmed, Then he tickled her there, and she writhed.
Whatever Mikhail did to her, however he caused her to move to his tactile command, he would never stop tickling and therefore Stephania could never stop laughing. Even though the sensations were less unbearable once his hands left her spine, they actually tickled more.
Throughout the seemingly endless torment, Stephania never stopped laughing. Mikhail wouldn’t let her. As the teasing continued, Stephania found herself, in some odd way, growing comfortable with her defenselessness, with how helplessly at Mikhail's mercy she truly was.
As the ticklish arousal slowly maddened Stephania, Mikhail moved in closer, and she found herself leaning back into him, feeling the front of his body along the full length of her back. She threw head backward to rest on Mikhail’s huge left shoulder and just let her laughter pour forth without any attempt at control.
He would give her short breaks to get her breath, but for most of two hours the only time the room didn’t ring with the sound of Stephania’s hysterical laughter was when Mikhail turned his head to plant kisses on her wide open, laughing mouth, sealing the laughter inside. Those tickle-kisses were irresistible. They turned her on like nothing in her life ever had.
Stephania was hot, wet and willing. For the first time since her wedding night disappointment, she actually wanted to have sex with a man. Oh, dear God how she wanted that! Resistance? To hell with it! Dignity too, while we’re at it! If only he’d let her stop laughing and not make her start again before she caught her breath! She would happily tell him how badly she wanted him!
Then, he stopped tickling her! Was it a miracle? Stephania saw Mikhail, stool in hand, walking around to the opposite end of the stocks. As she drew in massive gulps of air, trying to get her breath under control again, her thoughts were racing.
“Why is he going up there now? My mouth and my boobs and my pussy are all down at this end!” She saw him put the stool down and sit on it, licking his chops as he stared down at the stocks. “What in the....oh no! OH NO!”
Stephania had realized, Mikhail was licking his lips as he stared at her feet. At her helplessly immobilized, pathetically defenseless, desperately, frantically, inhumanly ticklish bare feet. Panic stricken, Stephania gasped a deep breath to scream no, but was seconds too late.
Mikhail’s skilful fingers made contact and started to skate all around on those cute little feet. Poor ticklish little Stephania exploded in racking guffaws of the wildest laughter her body had ever produced! It tickled so much, she could no longer think. She could only feel, as those broad fingertips of Mikhail’s ticklishly wandered all over her feet.
The exposed half inch at the edges and sides of her feet were ticklish enough, but her heels were more ticklish. The balls of Stephania’s size 6 ½ feet were more ticklish than her heels, and the flats of her soles were more ticklish than that. It was maddening, terrible, fascinating, wonderful, horrible, unbearable, and it was making her so G—D--- horny she just couldn’t stand any more!
And then it got worse; Oh My God, he was tickling her toes! Noooooooo! Nooooooo! And then she was SCREAMING with laughter. Those gorgeous, big brown eyes filled up with tears, which began to break free and to roll down her laughter distended cheeks.
The muscles in Stephania’s feet strained to pull her toes free, to at least let them wiggle a bit, but in vain. That sticky clay they were packed into wouldn’t let go. She could only endure, and to a growing extent and her own deep surprise, enjoy the impossible ticklishness of her pretty little toes. Her toes were so small, and his fingers so big, that each fingertip covered one entire toe pad, and when Mikhail moved his hands it seemed as though every nerve ending in her toes was getting tickled at the same time.
After what seemed like forever to Stephania, Mikhail leaned back and just watched his delightful new toy gasp for breath. After almost a minute he leaned in and tickled her delicate arches.
Stephania ROARED. Her entire body quivered and shook with the force of her laughter. The tears which had trickled before now grew into a stream. After nearly five minutes, he stopped.
Stephania gasped for breath. Her entire naked body was seething with need. She had never before felt so fully alive. It seemed to her that every nerve ending in her skin was sitting up and begging for further attention!
Mikhail asked Stephania; “Do you still hold to your resistance?”
“No. No, resistance. No.” Shaking her head.
“What are you?”
“A slave concubine.”
“Not a noblewoman of the Polish Empire?”
“No. That is past. I belong to you now. I am yours. You have made me yours. You own me.”
“Would the slave beg a boon of her master?”
“Yes. If it is permitted?”
“It is permitted.”
“This slave begs her master to take her, to complete her.”
“To take her how? Be more explicit.”
“I beg you to possess me, to use me. I need you inside of me, so badly, please, please! I need to feel you reaching your pleasure within me! I need you so desperately, please master, please!”
As she said these words of ultimate submission, Stephania’s luscious body quivered and shook as though lashed by a hurricane wind. In a way, that was true. She was exposed to a hurricane of desire, the first such emotion she had ever experienced.
Mikhail smiled; “Your master has chosen to grant your request, little pretty bird.”
Mikhail stood up and walked to the side of the stocks. With a smack from the edge of his hand, a large part of the curved surface slid sideways, out from under Stephania’s pinned and spread legs, and fell to the floor. It revealed a padded seat.
Mikhail shed his robe and slippers and stepped up onto the seat, then stepped over Stephania’s right leg. Stephania stared unashamedly at her conqueror’s member as he stood between her legs. It was only slightly longer than that of her late husband, but much, much thicker. She wasn’t sure it would fit; her husband’s had been uncomfortable enough, but the way she felt now she was eager to try.
Mikhail squatted, lowered his behind to the seat cushion, and slipped his bare feet under Stephania’s knees. He paused for a moment to tickle the backs of her knees with his toes, making her giggle and wiggle prettily. Then he extended his legs all the way and slid down under Stephania.
Stephania felt herself lifted up, the backs of her sleek, smooth thighs resting on top of his lumpily muscular ones. It felt comfortable. It felt good. Then Mikhail reached with his right hand to open a drawer in the side of the barrel base of the stocks. From this drawer he took two soft, pointy feathers, each about four inches long.
Leaning forward with a wicked grin (which Stephania, to her own surprise, thrilled to see) Mikhail observed the full engorgement of Stephania’s labia. Then he touched the points of the feathers to the puffed, hyper sensitized flesh and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, stroked up and down.
Stephania SHRILLED out her laughter in outraged delight! This was at once the best and the worst thing she had ever felt! And the wonderful, awful sensations continued as Mikhail gleefully kept the feathers moving, gliding ever so slowly, up, and then down, and then up, and then back down again while Stephania writhed in her helpless desire and kept up a sweet, high pitched, incredibly musical laughter.
Mikhail was carefully watching as the head of Stephania’s clit timidly emerged from the flesh hood that normally hid it. It was almost as though that ultimately sensitive morsel knew what Mikhail had planned for it.
Mikhail patiently waited and watched, enjoying Stephania’s wild, lovely laughter and frantic gyrations, until the entire head of her clit and a bit of the shaft had emerged. Then he lifted the feathers from her tormented labia and touched just the ultimate tips of the points to her clit.
Stephania was stunned into nearly a full minute of silent immobility by the impossible intensity of the sensations her clit transmitted to her brain. Then she erupted in utterly insane laughter while every muscle in her body galvanized in a desperate, useless attempt to pull her exposed loins BACK, away from those awful, unbearable feathers!
Those soft points continued the merciless teasing until Stephania’s muscles relaxed in fatigue. Her body, refusing to admit defeat, tried to close her legs, using a different set of muscles. This didn’t work either. Throughout, she kept uncontrollably laughing, and kept growing more and more desperate for sexual release.
Then Mikhail tossed the feathers aside, their wicked work done, their victim frantically eager for what would come next. He reached up to unhook the wrist bar from the chain, and reattached it to the stocks behind his head as he slid farther down in the seat.
Stephania felt the tip of his member touch her labia, felt him guide it between them, felt him slide into her. She was amazed at how pleasant his thickness felt, how easily and comfortably it slipped into her, when her much thinner husband had hurt. It was only later that she figured out what a difference it made to be turned on, highly lubricated, and eager.
All of a sudden, Stephania’s mind was submerged in a flood of pleasure. Mikhail’s luxurious thickness was moving the flesh around her clit in just the best way to send waves of pleasure shooting up from that organ. At the same time the head of him was rubbing a spot deep inside that seemed to give her just as much pleasure as her clit. That was something she had never found on her own. It came as revelation to her that a man might actually give her greater pleasure than she had given herself, but it was a revelation she would have to contemplate later.
In her new, leaned far forward position, Stephania’s face was just a few inches away from Mikhail’s. She eagerly drank in every detail of the satanically wicked grin on his ruggedly handsome features. For some reason, seeing how much he enjoyed her defenseless submission increased her enjoyment.
He positioned himself as far into her as he could be, then he reached up with both hands and began slowly grazing his fingertips over Stephania’s delectably sensitive arches. Again laughter roared from Stephania’s body.
All of the muscles in her feet, legs, hips and torso despairingly strained to pull her ticklish feet away from the sweet, unendurable torture. The only result that her inescapable bondage allowed her efforts to achieve was to move her hips lasciviously in a back and forth, side to side, round and round squirm. That squirm provided exactly the right stimulation to both clit and secret spot to give her a wonderful, mind bending, crashing orgasm in less than a minute!
Mikhail grinned as he heard the word yes emerge from Stephania’s laughter. He knew she had cum by the change in her movement, but he kept on tickling her arches.
As Mikhail had expected, the orgasm made her become twice as ticklish a short while after it hit her. He kept the repetitive, up and down strokes at the same pace while Stephania’s laughter doubled in intensity. Her second climax also doubled the intensity of the first, and lasted twice as long.
Mikhail could not remember the last time he had such great fun. He changed the repetitious strokes up and down on Stephania’s arches to swirls, which tickled more. Her responses increased in proportion.
As for Stephania, she was in heaven, all of her senses engaged in the greatest pleasure she had ever known. Her inner thighs were rubbing against the sides of Mikhail’s muscled torso. Her nipples and the undersides of her breasts were rubbing against his massive chest. Her inner forearms and the crooks of her elbows were rubbing the sides of his great, bearlike head.
Her eyes drank in the enjoyment on his face, her nostrils inhaled his masculine musk, her eagerly flickering tongue tasted the man sweat on his mighty bull neck. Above all, his fingers kept wickedly tickling her desperately vulnerable arches, forcing her body to move in a way that gave her labia, clit, and secret spot the most amazing, delightful sensations ever. It went far beyond the best Stephania had ever imagined. The torture of her ticklish feet was completely absorbed in the overall rush of pleasure, even as her helpless laughter continued.
Mikhail kept up her sweet torment until she had cum for a third and a fourth time, and was right on the verge of a fifth. Then he craned his neck forward and stopped up Stephania’s laughter with the sweetest deep kiss she had ever enjoyed, and he held it and held it and held it until her fifth orgasm simply exploded.
Then Mikhail, still holding that delicious kiss, went to the spider dance tickle in Stephania’s ultra tender, ultra ticklish arches. Stephania’s pleasure went right off the scale! It tickled so horribly, yet it felt so impossibly good!
Stephania was hovering right on the edge when she felt Mikhail let himself go. The sensation of his mighty orgasm, seemingly pumping and pumping and pumping a river of liquid pleasure into her, gave her this wonderful sense of accomplishment and joy. Along with the unprecedentedly wonderful physical sensation, this pushed her into her sixth and by far best and biggest yet climax.
When Mikhail was sure that her orgasm, as well as his own, had completed, he lazily reached up to open the wrist cuffs and stocks to set Stephania free. He gently pulled her tender toes free of the sticky clay. He wanted to see what she would do.
What she did was to squirm her tingling feet under Mikhail’s massive thighs, rubbing her arches and soles against the hard muscles there. She also wormed her little hands under his huge shoulders, pressing her soft palms against his scarred, weathered skin.
Then Stephania tucked the top of her head under Mikhail’s chin. She rubbed her left cheek against his leathery, deeply tanned throat. Then she rested her head there. She gave a deep sigh of contentment and fell fast asleep.
Mikhail let her rest there awhile. Then he rose, effortlessly carrying her in one arm. H e took Stephania to his bed, dried her off with a throwaway fur which he then threw away, and tucked her into the sleeping furs.
After dressing, Mikhail planted a soft, tender kiss on Stephania’s sleeping mouth. This brought a dreamy, contented smile to her face. He heard her murmur; “I love you, my master, my owner, my mighty Mikhail.”
Stephania had become a conquered female animal, in love with her conqueror. Mikhail went to his early evening council meeting content that all was right in his world.
By Mastertank1
Stephania Kronkiewicz was not happy, but at least not unhappy today. Her life had given her little to be happy about.
She was on her way to her second wedding. Her first had been to Count Werther Kronkiewicz of Lvov, a grandee of the Polish Empire. The wedding night had been nothing special, with the Count too drunk to perform.
In the two weeks he had allowed before returning to the camp of his beloved army, the Count’s nightly performances had been nothing special, and not given Stephania any pleasure. She sincerely hoped that the Count’s assertions, that he was as good a lover as any man and better than most, was an empty brag.
The Count had remained with the army for two years. He was of ‘Great service to the crown’ in expanding the Empire eastward along the Black Sea coastline. That’s what it said in the letter Stephania received to announce that her husband had gotten his head blown off leading a charge against the Turks. She had not found it in her to mourn long or hard.
Because Werther had died childless, the County passed to his own younger brother Csonkazh. Where Werther had been an enthusiastic soldier in love with the army, Csonkazh was an enthusiastic agronomist, in love with the land. Werther had been determined to win glory. Csonkazh was determined to increase the agriculture based wealth of the County.
When Csonkazh arrived to take up his new rank, he brought with a him a wife and two sons. The wife, who had not regained her figure after the second child, did not relish having a woman of noble rank, widowed, available and far better looking, resident in the castle. From the moment she set eyes on Stephania, the wife was after her husband to send his sister in law back to her own family.
Life in her father’s castle/palace, where the ruling lady was her father’s third wife, not her mother who had been his second, was a highly unpleasant experience. Her father regarded and treated Stephania as a valuable game piece, unexpectedly returned to him after having been played.
Her father expected Stephania to be pleased that her second marriage would be to a Duke, a step upward in rank from a Count. She did not look for much joy from any husband, having secretly believed the late Werther’s assertion that none were any better as bedmates than he was.
She did look forward to becoming the high lady of her own castle/palace. At least she would be the highest ranking woman there, even if it was new built in lands just conquered by the army her late husband had led a division of.
Stephania would now be a Duchess, the same rank her mother had held. As a Duchess, she would have influence over the construction and appointments of her new husbands residence/fortress as it was completed. That would be a fine thing, she thought.
She was protected by a military escort of two full strength troops of the Empire’s elite Uhlans, 150 of the best heavy cavalry the Empire had. They were wearing ceremonial dress rather than battle armor. Behind her new husband’s ornate, gilded coach, which he had sent for her, came a train of 8 wagons provided by her father, carrying her personal effects and her dowry.
They were passing thru a slimming in the map of the Empire. To the south were the Turkish owned provinces of Moldova and Wallachia, now in rebellion against their overlords and therefore not considered a threat. To the north, the map said only ‘unclaimed lands’.
Now Stephania’s life had been sheltered, or else her intelligence would have led her to question that. The young Sub-Lieutenant who commanded her honor guard, and the even younger Ensigns who led the two troops, should have known better.
The unfortunate fact was that officer’s in the Uhlans were chosen by noble birth, not by ability. Trained officers knew enough to ask; “If our land grows so dangerously narrow, and that to the north is unclaimed, why do we not claim it and remove the obvious danger?”
Experienced officers would not have had to ask the question. They knew the answer. The lands shown as unclaimed belonged to the Cossacks.
The Cossacks! The Polish Empire’s great, ongoing embarrassment. The Cossacks, who fought wearing little or no armor, no helmets, no discipline as western armies understood it. Whose swords, daggers, rifles, pistols and lances were made by their own self taught smiths, not by civilized armorers.
The Cossacks, who outrode, outshot and outfought the professionally armed, armored and trained Polish forces at every clash, unless the Poles resorted to treachery. Once only, the Cossacks had allied themselves with the Poles against the Turks. When the Turks had been split, and had retreated southward and eastward away from each other, the Polish artillery had opened fire on the drunkenly celebrating Cossacks, decimating them repeatedly.
The Cossack reaction was basically; “Hey! Good one on us! Next time we’ll know not to trust you!” and to scatter. When the Polish armies advanced into Cossack lands expecting to put the yoke of conquest firmly around Cossack necks, they got a rude shock.
They found every farm, town and village deserted, and most of them burnt down or burning. The Cossacks had dispersed into the hills. There they bided their time while they rebuilt their strength.
When the time came, the Cossacks had come together in rebellion and taken back the lands they had lost. They had besieged the fortress city of Dubno, then tricked it’s garrison into coming out to attack what they thought was an abandoned remnant of the Cossack forces. The Cossacks had lured the garrison into a trap, wiped it out, and taken the city to anchor the western end of their territory, just as their capitol, the greater Fortress town of Kiev, anchored the east.
Ever since, the Cossacks had raided the Poles on a regular basis. The embarrassed Poles had altered their maps. Dubno no longer existed on Polish maps. The Cossack lands ended well east of the eastern limit of the Empire, on Polish maps.
The Cossacks, who occupied all the land north of the long, narrow finger of Polish conquest along the Black Sea coast, were immensely amused when they captured Polish maps, and saw that the lands where they lived were ‘unclaimed’. They were even more amused to see that their western anchor fortress town of Dubno, populated by 20,000 people, did not seem to exist.
The Cossacks were not amused enough to cease raiding the Poles. The Poles were loath to admit the fact, but the upper levels of their army and government knew.
A series of unplanned detours had deflected the course of Stephania’s caravan. They kept getting closer and closer to those mysterious ‘unclaimed lands’. If they had been aware of who lived there, the officers could at least have ordered their men to switch from ceremonial uniform to battle armor.
In the event, the first deadly volley from the rifles of 120 concealed Cossacks emptied 60 saddles among the Uhlan guards. Before the stunned Poles could react, the Cossacks were well within pistol range. Each Cossack bore two or three pairs of pistols, and they fired as rapidly as they could point, pull the trigger, drop the spent weapons to dangle on thongs tied to the saddle, and pull the next pair.
Even in the confused, swirling melee, the flood of some 600 bullets fired at close range dropped 50 more Uhlans. The 40 remaining were each faced with 3 Cossack opponents. Even one to one, the comparatively light sabres and daggers of the Uhlans were no match for the Cossack’s heavy Shashkas and Kindjals, driven by massively muscled arms trained to wield them from earliest childhood.
Not one of the Uhlans survived. Nor did the wagoneers. In a few minutes, Cossacks were driving the wagons and coach away, the Cossack horses tied on behind. The mounts and remounts of the late Uhlans, none of them seriously injured, were all rounded up and added to the haul.
Crossing the border, they were still on good, well traveled roads. Had they not been so terrified, Stephania, along with her ladies in waiting and maidservants, might have wondered who kept up and traveled these roads, here in these lands which the map called unclaimed.
Those roads led the party to Dubno. The gates opened wide, and the party rode in. They passed through a series of fortified courtyards, and finally entered the courtyard of what had been the manor of the Lord Mayor of Dubno, It was now the residence of the hereditary Hetman of the Dneipr horde of the Cossack nation.
The raiders lined up the captured wagons and opened chests, boxes and bales to display their loot. The custom had always been, one part in four of the loot from any raid belonged to the Hetman, one part in four to the horde, and the rest to the raiders, proportionate to their ranks.
The Hetman was waiting for them on the courtyard balcony. In order to complete the display of the booty, all the captive women were led up a ramp. There, on a platform level with the floor of the balcony, all of them stood in a row. They were divested of their warm travel cloaks, which was not as bad in this sheltered courtyard as it might have been.
As soon as the travel cloaks dropped, the eyes of Hetman Mikhail Abramovitch Gelinkta were riveted to Stephania’s lushly feminine form. He shouted; “The one in the good clothes. Yes, her. Bring her over here. Up to the balcony.”
Mikhail looked at Stephania up close, and smiled. A rare occurrence, as all the horde knew. He reached out his big right hand and opened the top frog fastener of her jacket. When his hand moved down to the second, Stephania tried to stop him with her own right hand. He was so much stronger, he just continued as if her hand wasn’t there.
At the third frog, she tried to use both hands to stop him. He simply ignored her efforts, and opened the third, fourth, and then the fifth and final frog. Mikhail brushed the jacket off her shoulders. It fell down as far as her bent elbows.
Again, Mikhail smiled. Clearly, he liked what he saw. He reached out his left hand to stroke Stephania’s hair. Then that hand grasped the back of her neck, gently but quite immovably. His right hand, with the middle and index fingers extended, moved towards her throat.
Stephania was confused and afraid. She didn’t know what to expect, but what actually happened next was the very last thing she expected. He tickled her under the chin, and she burst into giggles!
Mikhail kept on tickling her cute chin for nearly a minute. Stephania, deeply embarrassed, attempted to get herself under control, but she could not stop giggling! Then Mikhail tickled her throat for a minute, and then teased the sides of her neck, then her ears.
Stephania was mortified! Right out in public, the man would not let her stop giggling! But then, when he brushed her long hair back and tickled her left ear, Stephania squealed! It tickled so much! Her giggles set Stephania’s pretty face into a wide, apple cheeked smile. That was the look Mikhail had been hoping for. That look made up his mind.
Mikhail released her and stepped back. His grin was so wide that it looked like the top of his head would fall off, and Stephania wished that it would. How she hated him, for humiliating her this way! He drew her jacket back up and closed all the fasteners. He patted her on the head, fondly, as if she were some kind of pet. She was just like the first girl Mikhail ever loved, who had been carried off by a fever so many long years ago.
Then Mikhail stepped to the balcony railing to look very hard at the booty displayed below. He took in the horses, the wagons, the other captives, the armor, the weapons, the sets of tack. He took in Stephania’s dowry, the bolts of fine cloth, the clothing, the chests of coins, and the one chest of jewelry.
Mikhail cleared his throat, very loudly. He spoke; “For the one quarter share of the horde, I choose the chest of jewelry. That will satisfy the one quarter custom.”
There were murmurs but no real mutterings. They all thought that chest contained more than one quarter of the total value of this raid’s booty, but the horde’s share would be used to benefit all of them, so that was alright.
After pausing to see if anyone objected, Mikhail spoke again; “For the one quarter share for the Hetman, myself I choose...” He turned to point at Stephania; “This girl. Her only. I take her and a few of her clothes as my entire share.”
At first there was stunned silence. Then all the raiders began cheering lustily. Even though she was a countess and due to be wed to a duke, her ransom would be only about 5% of the total value of the booty as Cossacks reckoned it.
That meant an unexpected bonus of 20% in the general pool of booty to be divided among them. Every man’s share would larger by 40%. No wonder they cheered.
With a grin and a wave to the raiders, Mikhail turned, put a huge arm across Stephania’s shoulders, and took her inside the manor house. Speaking Polish with very little accent, he said to her; “You are my share of the take from the raid. You, not your ransom. I don’t mean to ransom you at all. Not ever. I don’t want the money they would pay; I just want you, for my own.”
Stephania stopped, and she stared at Mikhail in horror. That is she tried to stop. The strength of that big bear of a man, of that massively muscled arm across her shoulders, made it impossible for her to stop moving forward. She had to keep moving her feet or be swept from them.
Sputtering, Stephania said; “Me? You want me, for your own? But why?! No one wants me just for me! They never have! Only for the alliance with my father and the size of my dowry!”
“Girl, I want you just for you. I find you beautiful. I seek no alliance with any of your people. I have all the wealth I could possibly need in ten lifetimes. Why do I want you? I mean to enjoy you. From this moment on, you are mine, my slave concubine.”
“Nooooooooo!” She shrieked. “No, never, no! I am a Countess, engaged to a Duke! I am no person’s slave! You shall never ‘enjoy’ me! I will never submit to your will, or your lust! Never!”
Despite her defiantly positive words, she was really having ambiguous feelings. In her carefully circumscribed life as a noblewoman, she had been subject to volumes of flattery from those who were seeking some kind of advantage from her. This was perhaps the first time in her life that a man who quite clearly had no ulterior motive had told her that he found her beautiful.
Somehow, to know that a powerful, masculine, and (she had to admit to herself) quite handsome man, really wanted her just for herself, desired her, lusted after HER, was not entirely unpleasant! It was really quite common for a woman in those days to marry a man twice her own age, as Mikhail was, but... She couldn’t submit. She just couldn’t. Not a noblewoman of the great Polish Empire! Not to a Cossack! She couldn’t submit, but a part of her wanted to. Oh, how it wanted to!
Mikhail, still moving her in the direction of his quarters, smiled at her indulgently. “So you mean to resist your enslavement. How admirable! It shows spirit, and fire, and those are good things in a concubine. They make her more fun to own. For some girls defiance and resistance are possible. Yes, for some girls. Not for you, little pretty bird. Never for you.”
Mikhail’s next words chilled Stephania as nothing in her life ever had. He said; “You are far, far too ticklish to maintain resistance. Certainly not against a man like myself, who knows how to use such a weakness against you.”
Stephania was terrified. That’s why he tickled her! Well, he was right. She had always been ticklish all over. The spots he had tickled, her chin, throat and neck, were among the least ticklish on her entire body.
She secretly couldn’t stop thinking about one other thing that had happened while he was tickling her. For the first time ever, Stephania had found herself growing aroused because someone was tickling her!
Perhaps it was because she was feeling his strength as he held her in place so effortlessly, while at the same he tickled her with such a gentle touch? Whatever the reason, she knew that while he was causing the tickle that made her giggle, Mikhail had also caused a different kind of tickle, akin to the earliest stage of excitement she felt when she started to pleasure herself.
Mikhail ushered her into his quarters, and ordered some female servants to undress Stephania, bathe her and dry her and then lock her into the quarter barrel stocks. These stocks were there in the bedroom, in front of the roaring fireplace. Mikhail went on to his long delayed lunch.
When he returned, Stephania awaited him. Not in a position or in attire of her own choosing, but await him she did. She had been bathed, perfumed, and rubbed down from head to toe with unguents that left her skin tingling, feeling more alive and sensitive than it ever had before. She had been lightly fed, and given some wine to drink. Then, she was locked in the barrel stocks.
Picture a large solid shaped like a large barrel; one of the ones twelve feet long and about six feet in diameter. Imagine it sliced first in halves, then in quarters by drawing a giant blade down the long axis twice. Now, take one of those quarters. You still have a shape twelve feet long. Its’ cross section has two straight sides at right angles, each three feet long, and a third side which is a quarter of a circle. Now cut off the four feet at each narrow end, and the remaining center section, resting on one of the square flat sides, is the base of the barrel stocks.
The top of the base had the stocks attachment, but this too was unusual. The wood was not ordinary planks, but an 8” by 8” beam split lengthwise. Instead of plain holes, the ankle holes, set 30 inches apart, were each contoured to match the size and shape of a female foot. By adding or removing layers of padding, the size of the cavities were adjustable.
Stephania’s feet were almost completely engulfed by the cavities in the stocks, only a bit less than half an inch of the sides sticking out. Her soles and the bottoms, tips and stems of her toes were fully exposed. Because of the cavities, her feet were unable to twitch or wiggle from side to side.
The toes of each foot had pressed into a layer of firm, sticky clay in the top of each cavity. While a strong hand could certainly pull the toes free one by one, the muscles of a woman’s feet, especially trying to work at that angle, hadn’t a hope. That meant her toes were locked into a flexed and splayed position.
Stephania’s legs hung down the curve of the barrel base, her sweetly curved, sexy bare butt just a few inches above the floor. Her wrists were locked into well padded cuffs, separated by a ten inch wooden bar, and attached to a rope running through a pulley on the ceiling. Rather than pulling her arms directly upward, the cuffs kept them at a 30 degree angle, forward from vertical. This denied her the leverage to lift herself up or to force her feet forward and out of the confining cavities against the resistance of her own body weight.
Stephania was now totally nude, and glad for the warmth of the roaring fire on the hearth to her left. Mikhail paused to drink in the sight. “Oh, how lovely.” He thought.
Mikhail was very pleased. The 5’3” Stephania had a lush, womanly body. Her firm D cup breasts were impressive. He loved the gentle roundness of her belly, the sweet, womanly curves of her flanks. Her ribs were well hidden by smooth, tender flesh. Her limbs had a feminine roundness that Mikhail found extremely appealing.
He loved the round shape of her face, and the pixyish look that her cute chin gave to her countenance. He had enjoyed the sound of Stephania’s giggles and squeal. Soon, he would hear what her laughter sounded like.
Mikhail walked around her, savoring the sight. He especially liked the view from the bottom of the stocks. Her soft soles and toes looked so helplessly appealing, nearly engulfed in the stocks as they were. Looking above the stocks, he saw shapely calves and thighs, leading to her sex.
Stephania’s hair, equal parts chocolatey brown and pale gold from the sun, hung in short waves with ringletted ends to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Mikhail was wearing a robe, and his examination of Stephania had caused him to tent that robe more and more obviously.
Hooking a padded stool with his slippered foot, Mikhail took a seat behind his lovely new toy. Time to play. His first move was to run one fingertip, with a feathery touch, down the length of Stephania’s spine from her neck to the cleft of her buttocks.
Stephanie squealed, very loudly, and then, as his finger went back up the length of her spine and back down again, she started to laugh. Mikhail drank in the intoxicating sound of her laughter, reveled in the sight of her sexy body wiggling and wriggling as his fingers tickled their way up and down the smooth curve of her spine.
The sensations Stephania was feeling were just so intense! She had never felt anyone tickle her spine before. God, this was making her feel so helpless. She kept laughing. She kept uncontrollably wriggling and writhing.
And Stephania felt the insides of his bare knees touch the two sides of her hips as he moved his stool forward. He paused in his tickling to brush her hair forward to hang down in front of her shoulders.
The next thing Stephania felt was his moustached and bearded face nuzzling the back of her neck, while all ten of his fingers were wickedly tickling their way up and down her sensitive spine. Now the helpless girl laughed, and she squirmed, but she couldn’t help noticing something else too.
As Mikhail kept on tickling and teasing her, she felt her nipples erect and her labia swell. She could feel her womanhood growing first damp, and then moist.
When Stephania turned her head to the left, Mikhail nuzzled the right side of her neck. When she turned her head back to the right, Mikhail’s mouth captured hers for a long, deep, warm kiss, and the moisture of her sex became wet and then flowing as her sexuality awakened like never before.
Mikhail’s teasing attack on Stephania’s spine had destroyed all her mental defenses before she could muster them. Now he had total control of her senses. His hands left her spine and began to explore her whole body.
Stephania’s belly was ticklish. Her ribs were ticklish. Her sides were deliciously ticklish. Her armpits were wickedly ticklish. Her thighs were sexily ticklish, especially on the inner sides. Her loins were teasily ticklish. Her breasts were excitingly ticklish, most on the undersides. For pity’s sake, even her buttocks were ticklish.
Stephania had never experienced such loss of control. Mikhail had control of her now. When he touched her in one way, she twitched. When he teased her a different way she jumped. He would stroke her here, and she squirmed, Then he tickled her there, and she writhed.
Whatever Mikhail did to her, however he caused her to move to his tactile command, he would never stop tickling and therefore Stephania could never stop laughing. Even though the sensations were less unbearable once his hands left her spine, they actually tickled more.
Throughout the seemingly endless torment, Stephania never stopped laughing. Mikhail wouldn’t let her. As the teasing continued, Stephania found herself, in some odd way, growing comfortable with her defenselessness, with how helplessly at Mikhail's mercy she truly was.
As the ticklish arousal slowly maddened Stephania, Mikhail moved in closer, and she found herself leaning back into him, feeling the front of his body along the full length of her back. She threw head backward to rest on Mikhail’s huge left shoulder and just let her laughter pour forth without any attempt at control.
He would give her short breaks to get her breath, but for most of two hours the only time the room didn’t ring with the sound of Stephania’s hysterical laughter was when Mikhail turned his head to plant kisses on her wide open, laughing mouth, sealing the laughter inside. Those tickle-kisses were irresistible. They turned her on like nothing in her life ever had.
Stephania was hot, wet and willing. For the first time since her wedding night disappointment, she actually wanted to have sex with a man. Oh, dear God how she wanted that! Resistance? To hell with it! Dignity too, while we’re at it! If only he’d let her stop laughing and not make her start again before she caught her breath! She would happily tell him how badly she wanted him!
Then, he stopped tickling her! Was it a miracle? Stephania saw Mikhail, stool in hand, walking around to the opposite end of the stocks. As she drew in massive gulps of air, trying to get her breath under control again, her thoughts were racing.
“Why is he going up there now? My mouth and my boobs and my pussy are all down at this end!” She saw him put the stool down and sit on it, licking his chops as he stared down at the stocks. “What in the....oh no! OH NO!”
Stephania had realized, Mikhail was licking his lips as he stared at her feet. At her helplessly immobilized, pathetically defenseless, desperately, frantically, inhumanly ticklish bare feet. Panic stricken, Stephania gasped a deep breath to scream no, but was seconds too late.
Mikhail’s skilful fingers made contact and started to skate all around on those cute little feet. Poor ticklish little Stephania exploded in racking guffaws of the wildest laughter her body had ever produced! It tickled so much, she could no longer think. She could only feel, as those broad fingertips of Mikhail’s ticklishly wandered all over her feet.
The exposed half inch at the edges and sides of her feet were ticklish enough, but her heels were more ticklish. The balls of Stephania’s size 6 ½ feet were more ticklish than her heels, and the flats of her soles were more ticklish than that. It was maddening, terrible, fascinating, wonderful, horrible, unbearable, and it was making her so G—D--- horny she just couldn’t stand any more!
And then it got worse; Oh My God, he was tickling her toes! Noooooooo! Nooooooo! And then she was SCREAMING with laughter. Those gorgeous, big brown eyes filled up with tears, which began to break free and to roll down her laughter distended cheeks.
The muscles in Stephania’s feet strained to pull her toes free, to at least let them wiggle a bit, but in vain. That sticky clay they were packed into wouldn’t let go. She could only endure, and to a growing extent and her own deep surprise, enjoy the impossible ticklishness of her pretty little toes. Her toes were so small, and his fingers so big, that each fingertip covered one entire toe pad, and when Mikhail moved his hands it seemed as though every nerve ending in her toes was getting tickled at the same time.
After what seemed like forever to Stephania, Mikhail leaned back and just watched his delightful new toy gasp for breath. After almost a minute he leaned in and tickled her delicate arches.
Stephania ROARED. Her entire body quivered and shook with the force of her laughter. The tears which had trickled before now grew into a stream. After nearly five minutes, he stopped.
Stephania gasped for breath. Her entire naked body was seething with need. She had never before felt so fully alive. It seemed to her that every nerve ending in her skin was sitting up and begging for further attention!
Mikhail asked Stephania; “Do you still hold to your resistance?”
“No. No, resistance. No.” Shaking her head.
“What are you?”
“A slave concubine.”
“Not a noblewoman of the Polish Empire?”
“No. That is past. I belong to you now. I am yours. You have made me yours. You own me.”
“Would the slave beg a boon of her master?”
“Yes. If it is permitted?”
“It is permitted.”
“This slave begs her master to take her, to complete her.”
“To take her how? Be more explicit.”
“I beg you to possess me, to use me. I need you inside of me, so badly, please, please! I need to feel you reaching your pleasure within me! I need you so desperately, please master, please!”
As she said these words of ultimate submission, Stephania’s luscious body quivered and shook as though lashed by a hurricane wind. In a way, that was true. She was exposed to a hurricane of desire, the first such emotion she had ever experienced.
Mikhail smiled; “Your master has chosen to grant your request, little pretty bird.”
Mikhail stood up and walked to the side of the stocks. With a smack from the edge of his hand, a large part of the curved surface slid sideways, out from under Stephania’s pinned and spread legs, and fell to the floor. It revealed a padded seat.
Mikhail shed his robe and slippers and stepped up onto the seat, then stepped over Stephania’s right leg. Stephania stared unashamedly at her conqueror’s member as he stood between her legs. It was only slightly longer than that of her late husband, but much, much thicker. She wasn’t sure it would fit; her husband’s had been uncomfortable enough, but the way she felt now she was eager to try.
Mikhail squatted, lowered his behind to the seat cushion, and slipped his bare feet under Stephania’s knees. He paused for a moment to tickle the backs of her knees with his toes, making her giggle and wiggle prettily. Then he extended his legs all the way and slid down under Stephania.
Stephania felt herself lifted up, the backs of her sleek, smooth thighs resting on top of his lumpily muscular ones. It felt comfortable. It felt good. Then Mikhail reached with his right hand to open a drawer in the side of the barrel base of the stocks. From this drawer he took two soft, pointy feathers, each about four inches long.
Leaning forward with a wicked grin (which Stephania, to her own surprise, thrilled to see) Mikhail observed the full engorgement of Stephania’s labia. Then he touched the points of the feathers to the puffed, hyper sensitized flesh and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, stroked up and down.
Stephania SHRILLED out her laughter in outraged delight! This was at once the best and the worst thing she had ever felt! And the wonderful, awful sensations continued as Mikhail gleefully kept the feathers moving, gliding ever so slowly, up, and then down, and then up, and then back down again while Stephania writhed in her helpless desire and kept up a sweet, high pitched, incredibly musical laughter.
Mikhail was carefully watching as the head of Stephania’s clit timidly emerged from the flesh hood that normally hid it. It was almost as though that ultimately sensitive morsel knew what Mikhail had planned for it.
Mikhail patiently waited and watched, enjoying Stephania’s wild, lovely laughter and frantic gyrations, until the entire head of her clit and a bit of the shaft had emerged. Then he lifted the feathers from her tormented labia and touched just the ultimate tips of the points to her clit.
Stephania was stunned into nearly a full minute of silent immobility by the impossible intensity of the sensations her clit transmitted to her brain. Then she erupted in utterly insane laughter while every muscle in her body galvanized in a desperate, useless attempt to pull her exposed loins BACK, away from those awful, unbearable feathers!
Those soft points continued the merciless teasing until Stephania’s muscles relaxed in fatigue. Her body, refusing to admit defeat, tried to close her legs, using a different set of muscles. This didn’t work either. Throughout, she kept uncontrollably laughing, and kept growing more and more desperate for sexual release.
Then Mikhail tossed the feathers aside, their wicked work done, their victim frantically eager for what would come next. He reached up to unhook the wrist bar from the chain, and reattached it to the stocks behind his head as he slid farther down in the seat.
Stephania felt the tip of his member touch her labia, felt him guide it between them, felt him slide into her. She was amazed at how pleasant his thickness felt, how easily and comfortably it slipped into her, when her much thinner husband had hurt. It was only later that she figured out what a difference it made to be turned on, highly lubricated, and eager.
All of a sudden, Stephania’s mind was submerged in a flood of pleasure. Mikhail’s luxurious thickness was moving the flesh around her clit in just the best way to send waves of pleasure shooting up from that organ. At the same time the head of him was rubbing a spot deep inside that seemed to give her just as much pleasure as her clit. That was something she had never found on her own. It came as revelation to her that a man might actually give her greater pleasure than she had given herself, but it was a revelation she would have to contemplate later.
In her new, leaned far forward position, Stephania’s face was just a few inches away from Mikhail’s. She eagerly drank in every detail of the satanically wicked grin on his ruggedly handsome features. For some reason, seeing how much he enjoyed her defenseless submission increased her enjoyment.
He positioned himself as far into her as he could be, then he reached up with both hands and began slowly grazing his fingertips over Stephania’s delectably sensitive arches. Again laughter roared from Stephania’s body.
All of the muscles in her feet, legs, hips and torso despairingly strained to pull her ticklish feet away from the sweet, unendurable torture. The only result that her inescapable bondage allowed her efforts to achieve was to move her hips lasciviously in a back and forth, side to side, round and round squirm. That squirm provided exactly the right stimulation to both clit and secret spot to give her a wonderful, mind bending, crashing orgasm in less than a minute!
Mikhail grinned as he heard the word yes emerge from Stephania’s laughter. He knew she had cum by the change in her movement, but he kept on tickling her arches.
As Mikhail had expected, the orgasm made her become twice as ticklish a short while after it hit her. He kept the repetitive, up and down strokes at the same pace while Stephania’s laughter doubled in intensity. Her second climax also doubled the intensity of the first, and lasted twice as long.
Mikhail could not remember the last time he had such great fun. He changed the repetitious strokes up and down on Stephania’s arches to swirls, which tickled more. Her responses increased in proportion.
As for Stephania, she was in heaven, all of her senses engaged in the greatest pleasure she had ever known. Her inner thighs were rubbing against the sides of Mikhail’s muscled torso. Her nipples and the undersides of her breasts were rubbing against his massive chest. Her inner forearms and the crooks of her elbows were rubbing the sides of his great, bearlike head.
Her eyes drank in the enjoyment on his face, her nostrils inhaled his masculine musk, her eagerly flickering tongue tasted the man sweat on his mighty bull neck. Above all, his fingers kept wickedly tickling her desperately vulnerable arches, forcing her body to move in a way that gave her labia, clit, and secret spot the most amazing, delightful sensations ever. It went far beyond the best Stephania had ever imagined. The torture of her ticklish feet was completely absorbed in the overall rush of pleasure, even as her helpless laughter continued.
Mikhail kept up her sweet torment until she had cum for a third and a fourth time, and was right on the verge of a fifth. Then he craned his neck forward and stopped up Stephania’s laughter with the sweetest deep kiss she had ever enjoyed, and he held it and held it and held it until her fifth orgasm simply exploded.
Then Mikhail, still holding that delicious kiss, went to the spider dance tickle in Stephania’s ultra tender, ultra ticklish arches. Stephania’s pleasure went right off the scale! It tickled so horribly, yet it felt so impossibly good!
Stephania was hovering right on the edge when she felt Mikhail let himself go. The sensation of his mighty orgasm, seemingly pumping and pumping and pumping a river of liquid pleasure into her, gave her this wonderful sense of accomplishment and joy. Along with the unprecedentedly wonderful physical sensation, this pushed her into her sixth and by far best and biggest yet climax.
When Mikhail was sure that her orgasm, as well as his own, had completed, he lazily reached up to open the wrist cuffs and stocks to set Stephania free. He gently pulled her tender toes free of the sticky clay. He wanted to see what she would do.
What she did was to squirm her tingling feet under Mikhail’s massive thighs, rubbing her arches and soles against the hard muscles there. She also wormed her little hands under his huge shoulders, pressing her soft palms against his scarred, weathered skin.
Then Stephania tucked the top of her head under Mikhail’s chin. She rubbed her left cheek against his leathery, deeply tanned throat. Then she rested her head there. She gave a deep sigh of contentment and fell fast asleep.
Mikhail let her rest there awhile. Then he rose, effortlessly carrying her in one arm. H e took Stephania to his bed, dried her off with a throwaway fur which he then threw away, and tucked her into the sleeping furs.
After dressing, Mikhail planted a soft, tender kiss on Stephania’s sleeping mouth. This brought a dreamy, contented smile to her face. He heard her murmur; “I love you, my master, my owner, my mighty Mikhail.”
Stephania had become a conquered female animal, in love with her conqueror. Mikhail went to his early evening council meeting content that all was right in his world.
