All was quiet in the King's court as the castle guards ushered in the blushing
maiden known to others in the village as Megan. She was blushing because before
this moment, she had only seen the king from afar, and now his guards were
hustling her to His Royal Majesty himself. "Woman, my tax collector tells me
that you have failed to pay your fair share of the Royal taxes. Do you not wish
to please your king?" King Alexander said with a haughty tone. "Your Majesty, of
course I wish to please you, but I have no money, and it is known throughout the
land that your taxes are by far the highest and some of your subjects feel this
policy is quite unfair." Megan spoke and her voice shook as she feared the
King's reply, and rightfully so. "Do you wish to see your King impoverished? Do
you think that I would place a burden upon my people that is too great to bear?
Certainly, you are aware that I am a fair man." The King bellowed. "You call
half of our earnings a fair tax? I think not." Megan was beginning to get her
courage back. "To show you I AM a fair King, I will NOT cut your tongue cut out
for that last remark! I know full well, that you have possession of enough funds
to pay your fair share of the Royal Tax. You are just refusing to pay, a crime
usually punishable by death. I wish you not to die...I will prove my generosity
to you. Simply pay your share of the Royal Tax and I will let you go." Knowing
that the King did not want to see her perish Megan persisted in her defiance.
"Nothing you can do to me will make me reveal the secret place in which I have
hidden my coins. They ARE my coins! I toiled in the orchards for them, and you
do not deserve half!" The King was outraged, but he still felt obligated not to
have this woman beheaded. "I will not harm one hair on your head, but you WILL
surrender your purse to me. Guards!!! Take her to the dungeon and have her
locked in the stocks." The King had an idea for making dear Megan reveal the
location of his tax money...he would have her mercilessly tickled until she
begged to give him all her money. "Instruct the dungeon master to have this
woman stripped naked while she is in the stocks...also, fix irons upon her
wrists and fix her arms in a position above her head, so that she may become
weary from the discomfort of not being able to lower them." Megan was no longer
blushing, she was now scared as the guards led her out of the Royal Court and
down into the depths of the dungeon below. When she reached the dungeon, two
guards held her arms as the dungeon master removed her clothing, her
undergarments and even her shoes and stockings. Megan struggled, but it was not
use against three strong men, bent on following the King's orders. The dungeon
master place Megan's feet in the stocks and she saw them close down- -he locked
them in place, and she began to feel a great fear. Her wrists were indeed bound
in irons and then the irons were fastened to a large thick rope which hung from
the low ceiling of the dungeon. Then the dungeon master withdrew from his sash a
thick black cloth which he tied around her head, covering her eyes. All was
dark. The contrast of the rough wooden stocks around her shapely legs and the
heavy black blindfold around her blond locks was most moving to the dungeon
master. He had done as he was told and began to wonder what he should do next.
At that moment, Megan became aware of a familiar voice. It was the King! "Thank
you for preparing this wench for me Claudius. I shall interrogate the prisoner
personally." The King announced as a flicker of a smile ran across his face.
"Leave at once!" The dungeon master obliged and the King walked over to where
Megan was helplessly bound, hand and foot...whereupon his tone became sinister.
"So, you think you're so strong...you cannot be broken...we shall see my little
serf. You shall not be so boisterous upon your departure from this place. You
have the King's Oath upon that!" "Sir, I am most shy, and have found great
discomfort in you viewing my nakedness." Megan said sheepishly. "You know not
what discomfort is...but you shall!" And with that, Megan began to feel what
seemed to be a feather caressing the inside of her arm. She giggled a bit, but
as the feather continued to trace lower and lower, she knew it was going to
reach her armpit. She was shocked. "Is this how the King will try to make me
divulge the location of my purse?" She thought to herself...indeed, the King had
a very full day planned for the beautiful Megan. The King's feather was now
making small circles in the crux of Megan's armpit and she was finding it to be
most uncomfortable. "Your Majesty...that tickles! Please stop! Heeee....Heeee."
To Megan's horror there was no reply, but the feather continued down her sides,
ever so lightly grazing over her tender ribs, tickling more her skin than the
ribs themselves. "Oh Sir, I beg of you, you are driving me to madness! Please
stop!" He did not. Megan felt that feather gliding over her nipples ..from
underarm to underarm...traveling over her nipples on the way. Her skin was
crawling...it was most unnerving to Megan not to be able to pull her arms
down...but there was nothing she could do about it. The King then started to
work the feather around Megan's navel...gliding it over her taut, but heaving
stomach. This was almost more than Megan could bear! "Oh PLEASE!!! STOP!! HEEEE
HEEE HAAAAA HAAAAA..." This pleased the King, but he knew full well he had not
yet played his trump card. While continuing to tickle Megan's stomach with the
feather, the King began tapping on the stocks. Megan knew this was a hint of the
awful torment to come...and sure enough it did. Megan felt the feather leave her
stomach...all she saw was darkness, her blindfold allowed not a ray of light to
pierce it, so she certainly could not see what the King was doing. All of the
sudden...Megan felt the feather gliding across the points of her toes. This was
sheer, unadulterated torture!!! Megan's feet were by far the most ticklish part
of her body...and the King was just starting on her toes! "NOOOOOO! HEEEE...HAAAAAA....OOOOOOHHHHH!
STTTTOOOOOOOPPP!" This response pleased the King greatly...as he began to run
the feather over the tops of poor Megan's feet...and down the outside edges of
both her feet as well. "OOHHHHH....HAAAA HAAAA HAAAA, NOOOO MOOOOOORE!" The King
was rather enjoying himself at this point, he had no idea that tormenting his
subjects in this way could be so enjoyable. He had been saving the best for last
and he decided now was the time to employ the grand tactic. The King turned the
feather around, so the hard pointed edge was poised just inches away from the
centre of Megan's tender soles. Furiously, he applied the instrument of torment
to her feet. Megan's body arched and the stocks creaked as she desperately tried
to pull her feet through the small openings to no avail. Megan screamed in
helpless gales of laughter. The King had never heard such a sound in his long
life. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOO!!!!! HAAAAAAA! HEE HEEE...HAAA! NOOOOOO!!!
PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!! STOP! HEE HEEE HAAAAAAAA!" This was indeed the reaction the
King was looking for. The pointed end of the feather kept running up and down
poor Megan's sole for what seemed like days, but was merely four hours. The King
would stop only long enough for the poor maiden to catch her breath. Her pale
white skin had become pinkish in color, because she was laughing so hard...all
the blood was rushing through her body. Her head was pounding. It was a fate
WORSE than death...Megan indeed believed she would just cease to exist from
shortness of breath due to laughing harder than anyone had thus far in history.
When Megan had endured a total of five hours of feather torment the King
announced it was time for dinner. His dinner, not hers. Megan heard the thick
wooden door to the dungeon close behind him. She soon fell into a deep sleep as
her mind, body and spirit were spent. Megan awoke to the harsh reality of what
felt like FINGERS running up and down her stomach...she began to laugh even
harder than before as the fingers REALLY TICKLED! The feather had tickled her
skin...but THIS was a TOTALLY DIFFERENT sensation! MADNESS! "I decided to ask
the dungeon master and some of my men to join me here on this great
occasion...where you will finally concede to pay the King's Tax." The King said
in a tone that scared poor Megan." "I WILL pay, I will pay you NOW your
Majesty...my coin purse-" And with that she felt another pair of hands beginning
to scratch at her underarms...this was NOT like the feather...MUCH worse! "OOOOOOHHHHH!!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! HEEE HEEEE HEEE" Megan thought she had reached her
limit with the feather, especially on the soles of her feet, but no, this was
not the case. She jerked like she'd been hit by lightning as yet another pair of
hands had started digging into her hypersensitive ribcage. Six hands! Oh God,
she thought, my life is over. Another pair of hands grabbed Megan right above
the kneecaps and she jerked hard on the stocks, it felt like her ankles
separated from her feet, but they did not. She was VERY ticklish above her knees
and on her inner thighs, which that tickler soon found out. "Oh, I wish to join
the fun too" Megan gasped as she tried to draw her breath amid unbelievable
bounds of laughter...she realized that the King had spoken...he hadn't even
started tickling her yet. Then she knew that he was going to approach her feet,
and sure enough he did...now the King had nicely manicured nails, befitting a
king and they made devilish instruments of torture. The King stuck hard, fast
and with a vengeance in the center of Megan's soles...he ran his tickling
fingers up and down her soft feet and Megan now realized that she had a total of
ten hands, tickling furiously upon her now weakened body... "HEEEEEEEE....HAAAAAAA....OOHHHHHHH
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOORE! HEEEEE HEEEEEE HEEEEE HAAAAAA!"
This torment continued well past midnight as the King, the dungeon master and
three trusted servants tickled the poor maiden into oblivion. Eventually, the
torment stopped and Megan began to regain her faculties. "Maiden Megan, I have
decided that you shall be exempt from all of the King's Taxes from this day
forward for your kind service to the court." The King said as he removed her
blindfold. "I don't understand...what service have I given you?" Megan replied.
"None yet, but you are so ticklish and my men seemed to enjoy this a great
deal...so I hereby decree that you shall endure tickling for no less that eight
hours a day until your years number forty." Upon hearing this, Megan slipped
into unconsciousness. After all, she was only 19. THE END
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