The Tickle Dungeons Pt. 02

His entire body quivered as though a bolt of lighting ran through it. She did not relent--and her partner started in on his helpless, exposed feet.

"Over the course of their session," the man said, "most of our subjects will urinate and possibly defecate upon themselves. It adds to the degradation and emphasizes their loss of control to them. We do wipe the bottoms of upperclass subjects. If a smell offends, just let the assistants know."

Yais stared, wide eyed, at the subjects. A girl was seated in a stockade, her legs straight, her wrists bound above her head. She sat on an open absorbant and screamed with hysterical laughter as one of the attendants played a feather across the immobilized soles of her feet. Her eyes were bright with terror and she struggled with all her might.

"NO! NO! NO! PLEASE!! NOT THERE! NO!" her cries redoubled as the other tickler took targeted pokes at her helpless ribs. She shrieked and shrieked as the attendant's fingers touched and brushed and and stroked along her ribs. Her belly was loose and bulging--she had given up all attempts to look composed. Her mouth was open in a wide O of horror and helpless breath.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" the well-dressed man said, stepping beside Virona.

"It's... breath-taking," the girl conceded.

"Ha-ha! Quite literally!" He smiled, his eyes watching the unfortunates squirm and bawl.

"Will you go and walk among them? Better early. Late the chambers reek of their piss."

"I may," she said.

"Your pet-girl can be subjected to a taste of it. Or the full banquet these wretches are getting." He looked favorably down on Yais, who glared at him.

"I'd not put my pet through the full session just now," said Virona, watching with widened eyes at the subject's attempts to thrash and fight. The girl was still concentrating on the boy's penis and Virona could see in his eyes that he had well crossed his limit of endurance and was into the zone of horror where all control and dignity was lost and there was only the impossible tickling.

"Still," she said. "Perhaps a little bit." She appreciated Yais' look of pleading. "Or," said Virona, judiciously, "You can have a spanking from Dr. Reinbach?"

Yais nodded!

She laughed. "Well, I don't---"

"Oh," said the doctor, "I'd be happy to oblige."

"Are you sure--I meant it as--"

"Oh, I insist. Bare yourself, pet," he ordered. Yais reluctantly removed her bottoms. She glanced through the arches where a girl held in the diaper position was having her vulva tickled mercilessly. Her feet were permitted a small amount of movement and they fluttered in the restraints like a hummingbird's wings.

He moved to a chair and Yais, now bare bottom, crawled across his lap.

"Are there any restrictions--" he asked.

Virona laughed. "Show me what you do with your girl students!"

He laughed.

Yais stared at the floor, blushing.

He stroked her buttocks. "Do as I tell you, or mistress will take you to a tickling station,"

Ugh! "Yes, master," she said.

"Oh, I will too, Yais-pet," Virona warned.

"Put the bottoms of your feet together and spread your knees," he told her.

"The diamond position is her favorite," enthused Virona. "Pout your cute little bottom for him, Yais-pet!"

She did, blushing and gritting her teeth.

She felt a finger at -- at her anus! Oh! Two at her vagina--OHH! Dr. Reinbach slowly inserted the three fingers into her channels and she gasped. Being forced to hold the awful position while his fat fingers invaded her was awful! She grunted as he seated his palm against her buttocks, his fingers sunk into her.

Other members of the audience had turned to look at her, and she sniffled and stared at the floor. He gave no indication he would move the violating hand--OHHH.

"We'll have her spanking in a moment," Dr. Rinebach said. "Let her moisten some--I can feel her lubrication growing even now." This got an audible whimper.

"I had asked to see you about the donation of a wedding gift to your great house," Dr. Rinebach said. "From the university department and myself."

"I was told as much by the planner--you understand the terms of my brother's betrothal?"

"I am given the broad strokes," he said. "This is a gift that will please his bride, I think."

She nodded. "Well, I believe we will have representatives of the Indexium in attendance--I see no reason the gift could not be given through them?"

"If it did," he said, "it would likely come without my name attached--"

"Ah--I see--"

He nodded curtly. "I should like it to be impressed upon this boy that he is being taken as a subject would have been in the mythological days--when women--and sometimes men--bore children--half breeds--from the union of human and monster."

She frowned. "He will not--"

"Oh, no--of course not--but I have a card. It contains a simple, common, 'welcoming' of the woman into the union bed of the master or, in this case mistress."

He shrugged. "Perhaps it is because I am a scholar of the mythological rituals that I find it appealing--but I should like to think that even today, centuries from those ancient tales--a submissive being taken, would hear the words spoken before they are penetrated in the pursuit of their subjugation."

"I don't know it'll mean anything to my brother," Virona said dubiously. "But I suppose the part that follows will make it well clear. I will receive the gift on your behalf," she agreed.

"My thanks, great lady of house Verah."

The spanking of Yais commenced.

THE ASTROLOGER'S TOWER - CHLOE

It was dark and Chloe was free-climbing the wall. The tower was well built and hugely tall. Her technique was one few could even approximate. She had observed the wall from the outside carefully with a spy-glass. She had planned her route to one of the upper windows, counting bricks to be able to make her climb in the dark.

Now she scaled it, her fingers cover with chalk she had mixed to match the color of the face. She kept her weight on her feet, pushing them into the surface rather than hugging it with her body. Her hands moved over the small extrusions crimping and gripping she scaled what looked to most like a sheer or nearly sheer surface.

To her, though, although an arduous and dangerous climb (a fall would not kill her under Sattvan-Skies and edict--but she could break every bone in her body) it could have been a ladder. She paused for moments below the window. Overhangs had to be navigated as efficiently as possible, which meant quickly. She could go around it--but using her point of balance and her arms she got purchase with her feet and then in a flash, her hands on the bars.

A glass vial begin the process of eating away at the metal. She used straps to moor herself there, to let her arms rest. One thing the punishment mistress had been right about was that the only respite from the torment in her sex was the intense concentration her craft gave her. Now, waiting for the acid to do its work, she could feel the horrible urgent ache under the belt.

She was skilled enough to get the belt off--but she doubted that would be the end of it. It was built with supple arts and while she might even overcome those, the experience in the aerie was still fresh--and she was still marinating in shame.

This request, though--might satisfy a good deal of that. She wasn't looking forward to the next part.

In her private room, with Mavoreau and the order elder, secrets had been divulged. There was a 'mole' in the upper echelons of the order. They did not know who. Her approach would be known: they would have her.

"What good is there in sending her then?" Mavoreau asked.

"It will make them think we do not know of the mole--and it will inspire them to move their fulcrum from its hiding place," the man said. "If things are handled properly it may even reveal who the mole is."

Mavoreau nodded. "We could explain her point and method of entry in two ways to different groups. Subtle but distinct. If we can use that to uncover who revealed the information it could narrow the subjects."

"I think they will be cagey though," Mavoreau said. "A highly placed informant in the order would be far too valuable to burn on an intrusion."

The bald man looked to her: "They will be loathe to punish you for information--but they will certainly make things extremely uncomfortable for you. You will not reveal your knowledge."

She nodded. They swore a geas of silence with her. She took it willingly: it would work. "I think it is sufficient to say we will not be seeing you until this affair is concluded," Mavoreau said, stroking her hair. "You must be brave."

"I shall do as I am asked," she said quietly.

The bars were weakened, and she used a saw-edged cable to further cut into them. Soon she had quietly removed the wooden slats behind the window and was stepping through.

The moon shone brightly as it slowly rose--and she could see the faint pale light of the translucent, pinkish "Lover's Moon."

She gave it a look--and then slipped into the tower.

It was a kind of "orrery"--an astrological one--with concentric rings around the earth and the Planets were represented as balls that moved on tracks with epicycles created so they could travel retrograde as they did in the sky. They were in distinct colors--big enough for a person to straddle and made with ankle shackles so that a person sat upon each ball, would be fixed there and move with it. She suspected those chosen to straddle the spheres would not have a comfortable time of it.

She picked her way through each orbit and was careful to avoid the flattened lines that indicated each of the mathematical solids. The lines glowed with a faint fairy file. Some kind of art.

Finally, she leaped, gripping the stone moulding around the exit arch and swung, avoiding what she thought might be a pressure plate on the floor on both sides of the room's only exit.

She landed in a deep squat, and listened. She heard a faint tick, like the sound of a large clock. She was in a circular room with a staircase curving upward and three other arches. Chloe closed her eyes, shutting out light, to focus on sound. The air was still--but... she thought: up.

She moved beneath the balcony and leaped straight up, gripping the bannisters with her hands and pulling herself up and onto the landing at the top of the stairs. No one moved where she could hear them. There were small water-light tubes on the wall that gave off faint glows.

Her eyes tracked around the arch. The keystone had dots on it--marks: the constellation of Andromeda, Named after the ancient Taken by the kraken--fucked by its many terrible arms, filled with its grotesque spend, and sucked down into the dark depths, in its tentacled embrace.

She tested the arch with pieces of straw. Fast movement drew a faint hiss from the dots at the center-top of the arch and a light flash. The straw snapped. Some kind of spell--probably a striker--something that would leave deep angry welts across the skin of the subject caught. Maybe with a command word. She crossed the threshold by inches, moving slowly, but surely, until she was clear of it.

Still squatting, she listened. Nothing. Then a soft, whimpering moan came from ahead. She duck-walked towards the sound, moving along one wall. At waist level were two metal bars, one on each side of the corridor. She had seen devices like this. If active, they contained a fearful current. A person of any size breaking the plane between them would cause a bolt of lighting to jump from one to the other, running through the intruder and rendering them unconscious.

Around a corner, the corridor led to a nine-sided room. In the center was a table built on clockworks. It had four cuffs that held a girl on it in a X-pose, naked and outstretched. Above it, a pendulum with a gear-work tip swung back and forth over her body in an irregular pattern of curves.

Chloe could see pink lines across her nude skin in its path flaring and then slowly diminishing. She gasped at the pendulum's arc took it across her breasts, leaving pencil-thin, raised pink lines across the bulging, tender flesh. It seemed to pause and then shift, drawing across her stomach, down--

She gave a soft shriek and tried to squirm her sex out of its path. She was only slightly successful and gave a cry as it swept across her labia, leaving the pink welts. "Oh!" The girl raised her head to look around. "H-hello?"

Since she had been crouching, the girl, strapped to the top of the table hadn't seen her--but if she shifted and looked about properly-- Chloe rolled and came up next to the table, under the strapped-in girl's line of sight.

"Is--OH! S-someone there?" she asked. The pendulum drew its mark across some tender bit. Up against the table, Chloe could see that a large lense was set in the metal upside-down pyramid that the pendulum extended from. From the lens came a strange cool light. She heard the girl cry out again.

She crept towards an arch that held a stairwell. Up. She felt she needed to go up. Then she paused. A sliver of the silver light fell across her as she crawled. She felt a chill: it was the moon's light--the lens was an inverted telescope and the "eyepiece" traveled up from this room to the top of the tower. Overhead, in the sky, the moon--or moons--were looking down.

She heard the girl give a soft shriek as the pendulum traced a line between her labia across her clitoris and urethra.

She sprang forward and stopped just before the portal gateway. Her sense of touch was acute and on edge. She was hyper-alert--and something was wrong. Something was there. Something she couldn't see.

It rippled in the air, and she dove out of the way. Something grasped where she had been. She crouched and lept up towards the mechanized pendulum and--ohh! Whatever it was, it was elastic--it snapped out and affixed itself to her thigh. It held like glue. Her hands gripped the pendulum, but although she was very strong, she couldn't shape its grip. Before she could release her pants, it had dissolved the leather and fabric. The invisible pseudo pod now stuck to her skin.

She yowled, and it yanked her free. She was pulled hard into a gelatin-like wall. There was an audible "Splok" sound. Shit. She struggled to get at her acid bottle--but her hand was similarly stuck. She felt the glass-clear fluid infiltrate her pants entirely and press against her thighs and sex. She was struggling in mid-air.

Oh, shit-No! It pulled more of her body into it, Against the gelatinous substance, her chastity belt was useless. Its tendrils invaded her vagina and anus. She cried out as it found her cervix and stuck there, sucking against it--and the tendril in her anus suddenly, frightfully, swelled.

It bent her legs, spreading them, as it felt inside her, pressing, inflating. It pulled her in up to her neck and her tunic disintegrated. She felt a powerful suction at each nipple. She groaned.

It begin "tickling" the inside of her anus. This didn't cause laughter, as ticking generally did--but was a profound kind of discomfort. She grunted--groaned--tried to force it out, to no avail. It begin waves of swelling in her anus and vagina. The swelling coincided with an increase in the tickling sensation, so she gasped and grunted and cried out.

She lay in its wet embrace, heaving and moaning. She heard footsteps.

"I see you've met our gelatinous golem," fingers brushed her hair. She craned her head as much as she could to look at the well-dressed, if somewhat pot-bellied man. The tickling sensation surged inside her bottom and she gave a yelp.

"G-get me out," she begged.

"In good time--it will take several hours to properly fuck you. By which point we shall be ready for your punishment."

"My--ohh--nugghhh--oh--please--it's stretching me--" she cried out.

"This is fortunate," he told her. "Some of our punishment tools would be quite large and if you are not properly stretched they would be extremely painful." She moaned, quivering in its grip.

The girl on the table raised her head. "Doctor--please--oww! Please release me!"

The Doctor ignored her, gathering Chloe's hair back in a tail, tying it off. She gasped and kicked and moaned. The wet gel, feeling strongly and sleekly muscled, had wrapped around her. Now, it begin an in and out motion with fleeting attention to her clitoris. Although it was trapped in the belt, the invisible gelatinous monster had no difficulty stimulating her there.

He stroked her hair and her face as she grunted and whimpered. She tried desperately to force it out of her channels with her internal muscles, but it was in vain.

"It takes it about 13 hours to orgasm," he informed her. "I think during your taking, we'll get to see how well you suck cock. The golems will position you so we can easily get our penises in your lovely little mouth."

With that, leaving his student on the table, the pendulum still leaving streaks over her belly, her breasts, her thighs, and her pubis.

"Doctor!" she wailed. "Professor! Ow! FUCK!!"

DAME LISTILY'S TOWN HOUSE - CAIS

Cais's family had a mansion in the restricted district. It was huge and lavish. He wasn't staying there--which was, in its way, a mercy: his humbling would likely be a great joy for the serving girls to gossip about.

The Dame Knight, Listily, had the use of a "Town House." Now he was here, alone, his companion Yais being taken off with his sister on some marriage related task. He was naked. He'd been returned in a wrap from the Marriage Arranger.

He collapsed, laying spread-legged on the sofa. They had sounded his bladder. They had expanded his anus, taken measurements of his mouth, his throat--and every inch of his exterior.

The girl had been gentle and teasing--but with several "reminder" slaps with their paddles that had smarted.

It was intended to be humbling and humiliating, and it surely had been. It had also been somehow exhausting as the arrangement mistress had tried different bolts of cloth and lace over different body parts and made him take unusual positions for her to make sketches of, presumably to be delivered to a painter.

They'd taken a wax mold of his cock and scrotum. It had burned--but not terribly. They'd done the same for his anus and buttocks. Somehow that had burned worse. They'd fed him different kinds of goop, none of which had tasted good.

He heard the door open and sat up. Ugh. He could sleep for a day! He reached for the wrap to cover himself when Dame Listily and Marivold, his eldest sister entered, setting down boxes and bags.

"Don't you dare, Cais," Marivold snapped at him as pulled the wrap across his lap. "Let your betrothed see you in all your wonderful--" she searched for a word, "pinkness."

He groaned and let the clothing drop to the side. Dame Listily, tall, strong, and beautiful, crossed over to him. She wore an expensive blouse and trousers. "I've arranged dinner," she said, taking him in her arms. "You will be worn after a day at the arranger."

She hugged him--he hugged her back, for what it was worth. Her smell-her strength. Sattva! His caged cock bothered him.

"It was pretty trying," he admitted.

"I hear she's positively evil," Dame Listily laughed.

Marivold nodded. "I narrowly avoided her as my mother-in-law to be was schooled as an event arranger--but, yes. She excels in humbling young women!"

"I'll handle the meal," Marivold said. "You two can re-unite." They'd only been apart for a couple of days, but Listily lifted him and perched him on her hip, like he was a child.

The look he got over Dame Listily's shoulder from Marivold told him she thought him being carried out of the room was adorable. He gave her a what-do-you-want-me-to-do look. She grinned.

The Dame Knight placed him on the bed. From the dresser, she took a cloth and lay it down. "On that--in the diaper position," she told him casually, taking a tray of oils and powders, and creams.