Tickled Pink Ch. 03

The blonde stroked his hair, ran her silken fingers delicately along the back of his neck, cradled him in her lap and beamed vapidly at his confused, helpless expression. He swallowed a cry.

Adeline giggled, wriggled... and stroked up his erection, up, up, up, to swirl a fluffy gloved finger daintily around his tip...squeezed and tickled and stroked and toyed and—and—

And that was it.

Bryan just couldn't hold it in anymore.

Bryan Graves burst out in uncontrollable, gasping laughter, squealing with giggles and thrashing desperately, bucking his hips futilely to escape the hand. He tried to plead, to beg, to cry for mercy, but all that came out was panting giggles and mewls and squeals of humiliation.

He stared helplessly all the while into Adeline's shining, triumphant eyes. Her fingers danced and stroked and tickled all over his throbbing, sensitized cock. His lips quivered. He desperately searched for words.

But all that came out was giggling laughter.

Bryan gasped and wheezed and writhed against the fleece sprites' grasp, eyes screwing shut. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He knew with every gasp he was breathing in more perfume, more pheromones, and whimpers and whines suffused his laughter—but he couldn't stop. He couldn't control himself.

Adeline could.

"Oh my gosh!" cooed Vestere.

"Oh my goodness!" sang Calliste.

"Look at this!" the Twins exclaimed, as their fingers began to tickle along his sides once again. "Tickle-tickle-tickle!"

"N-N—eeheeHEHEHEHEE!" he mewled, words drowned in laughter as their silky gloves slid with the grace of dozens of ballet dancers along his stomach, his sides, his armpits, his whole naked body finally truly at their mercy. "NnNNNEEHEHEHEHEE!!!!"

"Ooh, he is ticklish!" Calliste exclaimed, leaning in to plant kiss after kiss on his neck. His screams of laughter only grew as her hands, so fluffy and downy with the wool, caressed around where she kissed—oh, gods, he was so sensitive— "He loooves this!" Her massive breasts squished against his side, joining the Twins' fingers with her fuzzy, tickly crop top.

He looked around frantically, panting and laughing, immersed in their fluff. Trapped on all sides in ticklish softness.

"Of course he does!" Vestere purred, crawling gracefully down to sit behind Adeline. "Adeline, sweetie, is his underwear off yet under you?" She spoke smoothly, silkily, easily cutting through Bryan's frantic giggling and tortured breathing.

Adeline giggled. "Oh, heavens, should I?" Her eyes bored wickedly into Bryan as her hand toyed delicately along his shaft. So soft. So dainty and deliberate. "Should I, sweetie?"

He tried to object, stammering, gasping, pleading with his eyes, his whines..

She smirked and gave his tip a little teasing squeeze. He squealed.

His mind was swarming with pink butterflies with every breath he took. He could barely even breathe, and his head spun and swirled helplessly with the sweetness of the scents suffusing him.

The other sprites still had no idea what she was up to, he realized, cheeks burning with humiliation. They had no idea just why he'd suddenly started giggling like this.

But oh, gods, did they love it.

Oh, gods, did they love having him helpless and humiliated, squirming and laughing like their hopeless ticklish sex toy.

"So much for the big, tough bounty hunter," Calliste whispered in his ear, her plump lips tickling his cheek.

He whimpered. It was like she could read his mind.

His cheeks felt hot enough that she probably didn't need to, he thought in anguish, as he gasped in another flood of perfumed air and felt his head swirl in hot pink clouds.

He couldn't cope. He couldn't endure. He stared wide-eyed at Adeline, who gave him a smile filled with love—as her other hand, in its soft, fluffy pink glove, started to tickle his inner thighs. He could barely breathe between his laughter.

And then Vestere's fingers found his feet, and Bryan's breath caught.

"Oh," he heard Vestere say softly, sweetly, in mock innocence. The fingers paused. "Are his feet... ticklish, too?"

And her fingers began to dance.

Bryan's laughter went almost soundless as he panted and gasped, flailed, whined. It was too much—so much sensation, so much touching, and he just couldn't take it. He felt his face going redder and redder—now not just from embarrassment as they cooed and teased his thrashing form, but from lack of air.

He couldn't breathe. The world was beginning to blur into a pink haze as the pretty girls tormented their helpless captive boy into a squealing, panting molten mess. Bryan could do nothing but giggle and squirm and gasp for air. He knew he was drugging himself more and more with every breath, but gods, they were tickling every ounce of energy out of him like he'd been running a marathon.

And they just. Wouldn't. Stop.

"Aww," Vestere cooed, fingers toying over the toes of one foot, "he likes it! Look at that smile!"

Tears of laughter streamed from his eyes as he gasped and giggled, almost no sound emerging anymore. He couldn't even close his eyes. Adeline held his gaze imperiously, her pink lips curved up in that sly, knowing smile, as he wordlessly begged her to stop.

"He looooves it," gushed the blonde, tickling the sole of the other foot, her every touch like a thousand wicked feathers. "Look at that big smiiile!"

"Aww, what a good boy," purred Calliste, smirking as her fingers tickled over his neck, her nuzzles almost as unbearable as the kisses. "He's in love with this!"

"In love with being our toy," the Twins sang, exchanging sly grins as they held his arms up for endless tickling.

The bounty hunter couldn't object. He couldn't plead. He couldn't get away. He couldn't even stop laughing, stop smiling, stop his cock's needy twitching. He could only thrash in a vain attempt to cover himself as he stared into Adeline's shimmering pink orbs, gasping in more and more of her sweet, intoxicating perfume, feeling his whole body becoming ever-more-sensitive as he felt her fingers tickling and toying expertly between his legs.

The Princess smirked brattily down at him. "Of course he is," she said sweetly. Smugly. "He's a boy, after all." Her fingertips hovered over his tip. "And boys." tickle "Do." tickle "As." tickle "Pretty." tickle "Girls." tickle "say."

He squealed in unwanted 'delight' as a little precum dripped out, and Adeline smiled triumphantly.

Good boy, she mouthed with a smirk.

He stared back at her, her form misty and angelic through his hazy vision, and managed a whimpered, mouthed, "yes."

He couldn't help it anymore. Couldn't help himself. He'd say anything she wanted if it meant mercy. Anything this pretty girl asked for. Any humiliating admission this gorgeous, insolent, overconfident, saccharinely feminine temptress desired of him.

And the temptress's eyes glittered with a question.

Have you learned your lesson? Aren't I the prettiest girl you've ever seen?

"yes," he mouthed desperately, unable even to nod, unable even to form coherent sounds, "yes, yes, yes..."

Adeline giggled and innocently, at long, long, last withdrew her hand. He shuddered with relief— and shame at his weakness.

"Aw, what was that?" Calliste purred in his ear, tickling underneath his chin. "We didn't quite catch that, silly boy!"

"Did the silly boy say something?" Vestere asked, as her fingertips darted over and under his toes. "I didn't hear!"

"Aww, I think we've tickled him half-to-death!" Calliste said sweetly. "The poor thing!" Her fingers crept down to tickle his armpits, eliciting squealing laughter.

"Silly bunny's all out of air," the Twins sang.

"Really?" Adeline's lashes fluttered. "Are you getting worn out, sweetiepie?"

'Silly bunny'. 'Sweetiepie'. With the brief reprieve for his still-achingly-hard cock, Bryan managed to muster some indignation, some humiliated rage at these... these shameless pet names.

"Nnn!" he protested desperately, embarrassed at how difficult even that sound was to get out. He couldn't show weakness, he couldn't, he mustn't—

"Well, something's stolen his breath away," Vestere said in singsong, her words in time with the stroking back-and-forth of her feathery touches along his feet.

Adeline's eyes glimmered as she gave a smug little pout down at him, raising her eyebrows innocently. "Gosh, I wonder what?"

The Twins stopped tickling his sides, giving him a moment's almost-relief—until he noticed them exchanging sly glances.

Moving in tandem, their hands skittered down his waist—eliciting a fresh bout of helpless laughter from their captive plaything—and delicate fingers grasped his underwear.

His eyes widened. His anger melted into terror in seconds. "No," he pleaded, "please, don't—anything but that—"

Only giggling at his pleas, in one almost playful motion, the Twins tore his underwear away from him and tossed it aside.

"There we go!" Vestere said smugly, as Adeline shifted, still the picture of wide-eyed innocence, to allow his massive, sensitive, tormented cock to spring free. "I thought so!"

"Oh my goodness," Adeline breathed, eyes as big as twin sunrises, "he's sohard!"

"Aww, look at that!" Calliste cooed in his ear, tickling under his chin. Did just our little tickling do that?"

Bryan flushed and stammered. No, he—he wasn't, he didn't, it was Adeline's fault! His face burned as he struggled for words. He knew how they were looking at him now, knew they thought he'd gotten this hard just from being tickled, and the embarrassment was unbearable—he had no choice, he had to tell them—

But Adeline smirked down at him, her fingers gliding over his inner thighs. She bounced back and forth, drawing his eyes to her bouncing, jiggling breasts. She knew he couldn't help it. He stared helplessly as he giggled and wriggled, and he... he just couldn't find the breath to speak in his defense.

"Such an adorable thing!" Calliste whispered, leaning over—her own massive tits bouncing right in his face, flooding him with her scent and tickling his cheeks—to get a closer look. "My, my!"

He squirmed. "I-I don't—"

"It's almost like he's, like, enjoying this!" the blonde enthused, eyes as wide as saucers.

"I'm not—"

"None of us even touched him down there!" Vestere cooed, eyes glimmering with delight. "He must really, really like being tickled!"

"It's—not—nnng—" As he squirmed and spasmed, Bryan noticed something sparkling out of the corner of his eye. Adeline's eyes sparkled, too, as she reached over and picked up the item. Suddenly, all her attention seemed to settle onto this new shiny thing, and she crawled off of him to examine...

... his locket.

Even enduring the Twins' and the blonde's tireless teasing, Bryan went still.

"Ooh," Adeline breathed, eyes as wide as saucers. "What's this? It's so... pretty."

"D-Don't touch that," he muttered, with every ounce of dignity left to his quivering voice.

They ignored him. Calliste and Vestere gave little oohs of curiosity. The Twins' heads tilted in opposite directions.

"What's in it?"

"Can you open it? Let me see it!"

"S-Stop!" he cried, suddenly panicking. He couldn't let them touch it! What if... what if...

But they ignored his concerns. Tainted by the Deep Evergreen or no, they were still fey at the core, it seemed, and these fey had found a shiny new thing to wonder at for the moment.

They ignored him.

Bryan blinked slowly.

They... were ignoring him.

His heart lurched right into his lungs as he sprang to his feet and bolted.

Actually, it would be more accurate to say he scrambled about a second, struggling to regain his footing in the thick, heavy fuzzy cloud, before rolling off and struggling, head spinning, suppressing little giggles at the sensations, to his feet, and stumbling away.

He heard indignant remarks from behind him. They'd noticed his escape. He didn't look back. Bryan raced with every bit of focus he had left, nearly tripping over his own feet in his panic.

"Hey!" Vestere said sharply. "Don't let him—"

"Stop him—"

Bryan made it to the door handle and, with a silent prayer, tried to turn it.

It turned.

His heart leaped. He swung the door open and, hearing the sprites rising to give chase, raced inside.

"Don't!" Calliste called, and he heard their feet racing towards him.

He slammed the door behind him and slid the deadbolt across just as the doorknob started rattling.

"Aww, c'mon!" called the blonde's voice from the other side of the door. "Open up! We promise we'll be nicer."

Giggling echoed the pledge.

Bryan stared at the shut door and took a step back. His head was still spinning. He was panting like he'd just run from one end of the continent to the other.

Would it hold?

He leaned against a dresser, struggling to catch his breath. Gods, that had been... so, so, so close. Even now, he could barely stand. Every inch of his body tingled with sensitized torture. Not... painful sensitivity.

Not at all painful.

But he knew somehow that now even the slightest touch from one of those silky or fluffy gloved fingers would bring him right back to his knees and steal the air from his laughing lips once again.

Recovering himself a little, Bryan Graves straightened and turned to examine his new shelter.

It was like he had fled into a dollhouse. An extremely pastel pink dollhouse. White and red hearts and sparkling stars were scattered across the pink walls and pink ceiling. The massive four-poster bed was white with delicate pink designs across the fluffy feather comforter and pillows, the canopy a deep pink sunrise. The massive dresser, laden with makeup boxes and perfume bottles, bore a large heart-shaped vanity.

There was no other exit. No doors. No ladders, no trapdoors—except for the little door on the other side of the room that obviously led into a walk-in closet.

Bryan stumbled nervously toward the wardrobe and noticed the delicate lacy engraving on the largest makeup box—a pink kiss mark and the name, in hot pink paint, Princess Adeline.

The color scheme left no doubt in his heart.

Bryan had just entered Adeline's personal bedroom.

As he stared in growing dread and worry at the box, he heard a giggle behind him, and spotted movement in the mirror. He spun, lunging for a knife he had long since been stripped of.

Four pretty fleece sprites had emerged from the closet, and regarded him with looks of bright-eyed, eager curiosity and excitement. Their hair was, like Adeline's, a brilliant pastel pink. They were shorter than the other fleece sprites he'd encountered—almost like lesser sprites, or perhaps less advanced in power and presence. Two of them had bright blue eyes, and two of them had bright sunset-red eyes like Adeline herself. All four wore elegant, delicate pink babydolls, diaphanous save for fuzzy pink fluff over the chests and lining the fringes... and just underneath, he could see their frilly pink panties, as delicately ruffly as rose petals.

Bryan had escaped Adeline's attentions only to run into four smaller clones of Adeline herself. Her... servants? Her apprentices? His heart started to race.

"H-Hi," he said, voice trembling with sudden fear—fear of these gorgeous women, so slight compared to him, so utterly nonthreatening, with their big, innocent bubbly smiles and fluttering thick lashes and bright pink and blue irises and gorgeous curly pink hair and pretty negligee that looked so very elegant and dignified... at least, compared to his totally nude state before them.

That was no doubt the reason they were giggling.

His eyes darted down nervously to note their beautiful, dainty fingers. Each of them wore identical silky pink satin gloves.

They giggled.

"Hiiiiii," they cooed in unison, bobbing with excitement, their breasts bouncing as they stared at him with big, gleeful smiles. "What's your name?"

Bryan swallowed, squirmed, and tried in vain to hide his erection.

TO BE CONTINUED...