The Tickle Dungeons Pt. 02

He followed the boy down through the hole.

He exited directly from a column into the Scrying Council Chamber. Apparently the men were expecting him. The boy who'd led him here was nowhere to be seen. Sunlight streamed in from one wall where a series of steepled arches showed the city outside. They were high up. The Astrologer's tower was said to be the highest in DunnisUrom.

In the center of the room was a large table with a huge shallow bowl of silvery "moonstone" with water in it. Another mist rose off the water in the bowl like steam.

A tall and fat Astrologer--Haif--one of the elders--eyed Dr. Reinbach.

"You did not find your Lover's Moon," the man said.

"Not yet--although I looked where you directed me."

"If it does not wish to be seen," shrugged Haif, "it will not be."

"I had thought to have one of my girls seek it at night," Dr. Reinbach said. "She is humble and will be more so this evening. It might appeal to the moon's spirits?"

"Perhaps," said Haif. "We have discussed what you have told us. We are uncertain that your gift will be sufficient."

"It is the eldest boy of a chapter of one of the Great Houses," Dr. Reinbach said. "It will be both sufficient and irresistible. Mark me, he shall be offered to the Pink Throne in utter subjugation and the offerer will fall under my power."

"So you've said. However, your awakening in the Town Square did not quite work as you intended."

"There was interference," he shrugged. "The Dike aspect had been in slumber for aeons. This is not the case of the Pink Throne."

There were murmurs around the table. Mostly ascent.

Haif nodded to the box. It was unsealed and the strap-on with gold leafed scroll-work around the base and its huge black glass cock extending from it was as fine a piece of work as he could have asked.

The boy's bottom would practically be split in two by it.

"The shaft has been enhanced with an art to intensify the irritation of the canal it penetrates," he said. "It should be quite an experience."

"The perfect ending to his wedding night," mused Dr. Reinbach. "And the perfect subjugation of his mistress."

THE ORDER ENCLAVE - CHLOE

She was face down on the bed, a pillow under her hips. Her buttocks smarted badly, stung by the spanking, and she moaned into the bedsheets with Mavoreau's cock in her anus. He had used something for lubrication which was good because she couldn't have taken it if he hadn't--but was bad in that she felt an orgasm rising and he had not--and would not--give her permission to spend.

She moaned, tears stinging her eyes. She gasped. His body pressed down against her. The top of her sex--her clit, mashed into the sheets. She squirmed and cried out--the pain was intense, internal--intimate--the shame was worse. He was fucking her anus! She felt waves of humiliation as he pushed against her. Tears leaked. Not there! No!! Not there!!

And the orgasm in her grew and flowered. No!! She moaned again--a sexual vocalization, followed by a cry of shame.

"Punish me," she begged.

He did--his cock pressed deeper into her and she gasped and the gasped and gasped and moaned with orgasm. At the end it became a frustrated shriek. Her hands balled on the bed. He'd taken her ANUS. She had SPENT. She shuddered with it.

No! No! Ohh. He pulled out. She felt hollow and stretched down there.

"Clean me."

She knelt between his knees and took him as best she could. The smell and taste was muted by his pre-cum but the knowledge of where his cock had been was awful and drove her shame harder. She whimpered as she sucked him--and when he came in her mouth, without warning, she choked it down.

Her only deeply submissive punishment sex had been with him in that bed long ago and now it was with him again, and her body shook. He held her in after-care.

She whimpered. The hours with the Mockingbird had left her torn open--exposed--unable to justify or excuse her behavior--her inclinations. She whimpered in his arms.

An acolyte entered, and Mavoreau gave the girl soft instructions. Her thighs were only dry-wiped before she was fitted with a collar and leash, and he led her naked back to the meeting chambers.

She squirmed in horror--her body--exposed, naked--barefoot on the cool floor. Her breasts, nude, nipples erect. Her bare sex: glistening. Still moist from its reactions. Streaks of lubrication down her thighs. Bottom colored from his spanking.

She moaned, softly and he tugged. "Come, Chloe--you haven't any choice."

She stood before a small group, hands on her head, fingers intertwined, her legs apart. The punishment mistress nodded approvingly, and Chloe felt a warm sense of the woman's appraisal.

The others--the bald man. The Artisan, observed her--aware that her karmic debt was still vastly unpaid, and she guessed they found her humiliation before them fetching but insufficient.

"Mavoreau?" the bald man asked, "Do you think she can enter the tower and tell us what the fulcrum is of this event that threatens us? We know it is in the Scrying Council Chamber--but beyond that, it is opaque. Can she penetrate it?"

Their eyes fell on her.

"I feel if she cannot," Mavoreau said, "Then no one can. I also know that their presaging and psychometry techniques will not detect her coming. I can share with you the specifics of her defenses--"

The bald man shook his head. "The less said, the better. I mislike plans with no secondary approach, but this one seems to be unique." He looked at the punishment mistress. "When will she be recovered enough to attempt it?"

"I'll take her as she is to my salon," said the punishment mistress--"and make my determination."

Chloe lay on her back, her legs lifted in a 'V,' and chained with cuffs around each ankle. The board she lay on was tilted slightly so her head was higher and her wrists were similarly cuffed on short chains to the "head board" of the punishment bench.

She snuffled and an apprentice girl wiped her nose. The punishment mistress stood between her legs, looking down at her.

"How were your two days in the aerie?" the punishment mistress purred.

Chloe swallowed.

"Awful," she said, "eye opening."

"Yes," said the punishment mistress, "They very well can be that."

She took a needless syringe and placed the mouth of it over Chloe's clitoris. She slowly, evenly withdrew the plunger, causing the vacuum to suck her clit up into it--Chloe's tenderest spot swelled and felt "inflated."

Chloe gave a little soft gasp.

"I want her to sit with this for a moment," the punishment mistress said. "Astra, please come hold it here while I prepare a tray."

The apprentice girl darted in with a "Yes, ma'am!" and gingerly held the syringe in place."May I pet her, mistress?" the girl asked.

"You may, for a moment. Just be careful. She's extremely ticklish."

Chloe whimpered.

"I'll be careful not to tickle her until you say!" the apprentice said. She looked over her helpless subject with interest and a somewhat predatory, dominant pleasure. The girl rubbed her finger along Chloe's vulva, circling near her clitoris. Chloe was naked and helpless before this younger girl who had full access to touch her everywhere!

She bit her lower lip and submitted to it. The 'petting' felt good--it was just humiliating. Chloe guessed that was the point.

The older woman came back and undid the clit stretcher. Chloe gasped--her pumped, swollen clit stuck out from her labia--she cringed in embarrassment.

The woman had a silk handkerchief. It was supple and flowing--gleaming in the lights. She had a small packet inside. Chloe couldn't see it--but when the woman brought it down to her clit, the pill shape buzzed! She gasped as the woman carefully slipped a lubricated finger into her anus.

The apprentice came around by her head and placed something--a blindfold--over her eyes, patting it in around the edges so she was in complete darkness.

Buzzz--. With the finger in her anus, the punishment mistress begin to buff her hugely exposed swollen clitoris with the vibrating silk. It was a very light touch--and it was exquisite. She gasped--and then moaned.

The woman could spend her in moments. The feeling was so intense and combined with the blindness, the restraints, she pushed and gasped. The apprentice girl petted her hair and forehead.

She moaned--and--OH! The buzzing was removed--or relocated further up. It felt good--the woman brought it back--"Oh--Ohh! OHHH!" Chloe edged close to the cliff of orgasm--but the woman changed how she was addressing her clit and the feeling ebbed just short of it.

Then back--"OHHH!!! OH-MISTRESS!" Chloe's voice broke with disappointment as, again, she came to the edge of orgasm and the punishment mistress simply reduced it to a more mundane pleasure. And again.

Chloe gave out a frustrated wail as he realized the woman was simply teasing her--toying with her sexual urgency--bringing her oh so close and then backing off--over-and-over-and over.

She gasped and cried out--clenching down, trying to achieve that hair's breadth more of pleasure--and being denied it in an expert snatch-away of the applied buzzer. The silk was smooth and, as her clit was lubricated, it flowed effortlessly over. Chloe screamed in hunger--anger--a powerful sexual "itch" that she couldn't bear.

And then, as the buzzer moved, sobs--and groans as the woman brought it back.

She lay nearly limp in a turbulent sea of need and emotion as the process went on and on. It seemed that with the finger in her anus, the wretched woman could tell when she was nearly complete and used the knowledge to back off--just enough. She cried out, again and again in frustration.

She had heard of girls "throwing tantrums" under punishment and had never understood it. A storm of outrage and defiant tears seemed like the last thing she would do. Now, she did it over and over.

Horribly, as she sought to reach that point where she would spend, she had to imagine Mavoreau fucking her--for punishment. In her mind, the worst, most degrading fantasies were pulled up by the punishment mistress' ministrations.

A technique used in some punishment fucking was to take the subject when their bowels were full, making the mouth-based cleaning that followed especially revolting. Thoughts of this entered her mind as she wailed. She was horrified at her imaginings--but oh--oh, fuck, she needed it if she were to cross that awful threshold. The punishment mistress was adept though, and she played her clitoris expertly.

She howled in dismay each time she was refused and, while she mostly held back on speech, as the punishment progressed, she swore profusely and found her mouth gagged with wet soap.

Another severe punishment fuck technique was to use minimal lubrication and proper force and stroke to slightly prolapse the girl's anus. The feeling left the subject incontinent and feeling constantly that she had to poo. She wailed as she imagined this. His cock drawing her out, condemning her to days or weeks of misery and necessary diapers. NO! How could she think of such things? How could she be driven to imagine such terrible degredation! But she had to! She HAD to spend!!

She yelped into the gag as the apprentice spanked her with a small, heavy paddle. It was like this, gagged with a thick bar of soap fitted with straps to hold it snugly in her mouth, bubbled foam leaking down her chin and cheeks, blindfold soaked with tears, and her sex, swollen and expressed, pushed forward. Her anus penetrated and her nipples painfully erect that Mavoreau found her.

"Punished with barely a mark!" he said, impressed. She moaned hollowly in the restraints.

"Yes--and she is ready to go--just one more thing."

The apprentice removed the blindfold, and she looked pleadingly up at Mavoreau, who favored her condition with a smile.

She saw the belt. Trim and of polished brass. It covered her sex and a thin band threaded through her rear cheeks. the woman slotted it on and closed it with a metallic click. It fit perfectly. She felt the Art of it seal it against her skin.

"There are small holes for pee and she will need washing with water after the other," said the punishment mistress, "but she can wear this indefinitely." She patted Chloe between the legs and Chloe screamed in outrage into the gag. Her sex was a demanding monster.

"Will she be able to--to act?" he asked. "I mean to concentrate when she goes in--"

"Yes," said the punishment mistress. "She will be intensely uncomfortable---but once she is in the proper mind space, it will focus her. I have similarly used the technique on girl chess-players. For the novices it distracts them beyond measure--but for the experts, once the initial urgency subsides, the misery focuses them." She fondly patted Chloe's buttock. "She will be well improved by this."

He nodded.

They got her up.

They took her, naked, but for the belt, back to her bed-chambers and Mavoreau sat with her as she curled against him and whimpered. Her clit, pumped and pressurized, railed at her under the cruel metal. She wanted to beg him to remove it--but she knew he wouldn't--shouldn't. Oh! She deserved this and she could not bear it.

There was a soft knock at the door, and when Mavoreau answered it, he was surprised to see the bald man who had chaired the meetings. He entered, examined the room, and then came and sat on the bed.

"I have something with which I must speak to you two--and only you two." he said.

THE TICKLE DUNGEONS -- VIRONA

VIrona, the sister of Cais, and the youngest daughter of great house Verah was standing in the visitor's foyer to the infamous tickle dungeons. She had Cais' personal "pet-slave" Yais on her leash. The girl was here, scantily dressed. Outside was her personal carriage, pulled by nearly naked young me in boots and gleaming cock cages.

The cages were articulated to allow erections at the cost of punishing the cock--and several of the boys stood uncomfortably outside, red-faced, their cocks erect in the metallic rings, squirming in the yolks that held their hands and necks. It was a pretty sight. She considered that it would be better if more of the displayed bottoms, some of which bore horse-hair tails affixed to plugs in their anuses, were red.

However, she was here to meet with someone important about her brother's wedding. She figured she would bring the most deserving boy down for a short session with the ticklers and see how his cock fared under that attention! Mmm--maybe Yais-pet too?

She fondly mussed the squatting girl's hair.

"Lady Verah," said a smoothly spoken gendarme woman. She wore a topaz sash: High Guard. She bowed low.

"Ma'am," Virona smiled. "I am here to meet Dr. Reinbach. Apparently when he is in the city he visits your storied establishment?"

"Yes, mistress," the officer said, returning to standing. "I will take you inside. Do you wish your pet housed?"

"Yais-pet will come with me, won't you girl?" Virona asked Yais. She wore a chest wrap, which was fashioned to look crude but lie tight enough against the skin to show her off. She wore a similarly brief leather panty that seemed tattered at the bottom where it just barely reached her thighs. The amount of naked skin on display for the girl was more than she was used to, and she was clearly uncomfortable and blushing under the observation.

Virona knew from experience the girl's sex was moistening. She also was quite sure Yais was rightfully worried about being brought as a girl under 'pet-punishment' to the dread Tickle Dungeons. Virona didn't intend to terrorize the girl, who she was quite fond of--well, not much.

Yais nodded. "Yes, if it please mistress, Yais-pet will accompany you."

The guard officer smiled at this and nodded.

Let by the leash, Yais ambled after her mistress.

"The primary spectator area is fixed with an art to lower the noise," said the woman. When the chime sounds, it will be quite loud in the punishment chambers!"

"I've heard," Virona nodded.

"This is your first visit?"

"It is," she said. "I understand you are attending a renowned thief?"

"That little one is taking her punishment at the enclave," the officer said. "But she will be returned to us for perhaps a moon or more of experience in our care."

"And that is a great deal?"

"Oh yes--you have heard that the lower classes are usually the ones remanded to us--and that is true. A single session of four hours is well more than most can take once. We have upper-class subjects from time to time--but they usually apply every bit of their privilege to escape!"

"I see," Virona said. They had walked through doors adorned with slightly gruesome looking "comedy masks." In the observer gallery were several men and ladies seated on comfortable looking seats that looked into the many archways and alcoves of the Tickle Dungeons. Water-lights blazed brightly all through it and she could see the naked bodies of boys and girls affixed to various devices that held them snugly helpless, but fully exposed.

All of them appeared horrified at their fate and looked with huge, begging eyes at the ticklers--trim men and women dressed in black body suits with masks over their faces that had only wicked red smiles painted on.

"Tickling has deep roots," said a portly man wearing a ceremonial blue sash. "and we draw from extensive documentation. The Eastern Emperor Huonermous Wulang had the bodies of slaves--men and women--mapped extensively with lines showing how the nervous connections from each part wove together to produce the most sensitive of sensations."

"His masterpiece showed seven distinct levels of ticklish sensitivity and here we employ his practice to seek the highest of the seven on each subject. Our ticklers have all been through a half session in the dungeons themselves and are refreshed in this once every eighteen moons!"

The ticklers were crouching or perching like predators. They hooked their fingers into claws and made reaching motions tickling the air before their horrified prey.

"A great part of the tickling process," continued the man, "is the building of tension and expectation. Our subjects are ideally broken before they are touched such that the actual application of the tickle is ruinous and penetrates all self-control and disintegrates the will. In our care, they will be nothing but punished!"

A boy, taut and naked, sported a furious erection--his cock jutting out, as he looked in terror at the women who waited for the chime.

"They have been given a potion which increases their sensitivity to the tickling sensation greatly. It makes even the 'not ticklish' quite susceptible to the art of tickling and those who were already ticklish? It makes them dreadfully worse!"

"What about our thief?" one of the ladies asked. "The 'Great Grimalkin.' I am told she was notably ticklish to begin with?"

"I understand that to be true--one of the reasons she was sent to us. She will beg you until her voice cracks each and every day you attend," promised the man.

"The smell," he continued, "is the pure-air that our cauldrons create. Please admit no fire here--for pure air is far more subject to burning than ordinary air--but it keeps our subjects awake and cognizant far longer than they would be in a normal dungeon! It increases their attention to the procedure."

The chime sounded, and the ticklers, moving silently, pounced. Virona saw one of the girls, recognizable only by her shape as her head was covered, Slink forward and then play her fingers deftly on the boy's erect cock.

He arched his back in a howling, laughing scream. She didn't stop. He tried to thrust his hips in an attempt to throw her off--but a leather covered vise held his hips stationary and all he could do was scream. She stroked the Frenulum, the most sensitive part of the penis under the glans.