Village Carnival (F/ff)

[Janbound]

"You know what, Suzie?" Lizzie said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We should totally volunteer for the tickling booth at the carnival."

The village square bustled with excitement. The air was filled with the sweet scent of caramelized sugar from the cotton candy vendor and the distant sound of laughter echoed through the cobblestone streets. The annual summer carnival was in full swing, and the villagers had come out in droves to enjoy the games, food, and entertainment.

Lizzie and Suzie had been best friends since they could walk. They were known for their adventurous spirits and their willingness to try anything at least once. So when Lizzie suggested they become the tickled prisoners in the village stocks, Suzie didn't hesitate. They had seen older kids do it before, enduring the tickles of their peers and the occasional stranger for a good laugh. It seemed like the perfect way to make some extra coins and become the talk of the town.

They approached the older woman running the booth, Mrs. Jenkins, who had long blonde hair that curled at the ends and always smelled faintly of baking. She looked surprised at their young ages but ultimately agreed with a wink. "Alright, you two. You've got more courage than sense, I'll give you that. But remember, you can say 'uncle' anytime you want to be let out."

The girls giggled nervously as Mrs. Jenkins led them to the stocks. The wooden contraption was tall and sturdy, with four holes at the bottom for two sets of feet. She helped them step into it, one at a time, and secured the heavy wooden bars into place.

Mrs. Jenkins tied there hands behind their backs with leather straps then handed them each a red handkerchief. "Here you go, girls. If things get too much, just drop it, and I'll step in." She gave them a reassuring pat on the back before moving to the front of the booth to start the show.

The crowd grew thicker as people caught wind of the young daredevils taking up residence in the stocks. Suzie's heart thumped in her chest as she felt the cool wooden frame against her bare legs. Lizzie's cheeks were already flushed with excitement. Mrs. Jenkins bent down and gently pulled off their shoes and socks, revealing two sets of small, vulnerable bare feet. Suzie's toes were painted with chipped, glittery polish from their last sleepover.

The crowd grew rowdy as Mrs. Jenkins stepped back, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She held up a hand for silence and announced in a booming voice, "Step right up, folks! For a mere five coins, you can tickle the feet of these two brave souls and watch them squirm and giggle!"

Suzie felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as the first person approached the stocks. It was Billy, the butcher's son, who had always had a crush on Lizzie. He knelt down with a mischievous smile, eyeing Lizzie's bare feet. Suzie watched as Lizzie's eyes narrowed, daring him to go ahead. Billy began with feather-light tickles on Lizzie's soles, and the giggles started almost immediately. Suzie felt her own feet tingle in anticipation.

The second person was Miss Elena, the schoolteacher, who had a reputation for being stern. But here, with a coin in hand, she had a twinkle in her eye. She started on Suzie's feet, her gentle touch surprisingly ticklish. Suzie couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up from her belly, her eyes watering from the sensation. The crowd loved it, their laughter and cheers encouraging others to join in.

As the afternoon wore on, more villagers stepped up to have their turn. The girls' giggles grew louder, their feet more sensitive with each new tickler. The coins clinked into the jar at the side of the stocks, filling it with a sweet symphony of success. Their legs grew tired from the constant movement, but the thrill of the challenge kept them going.

Mrs. Jenkins walked around the stocks, ensuring that the tickling stayed light-hearted and the girls were okay. She noticed that Lizzie's feet were already reddening from the constant tickling, and she stepped in to give them a brief respite. "Alright, folks, let's give them a minute to catch their breath," she called out, and the crowd reluctantly took a step back.

The two friends leaned their heads against the wooden frame, panting from laughter. Mrs. Jenkins bent down and whispered to them, "You can say 'uncle' anytime, remember?" Lizzie nodded, a hint of determination in her eyes, while Suzie looked slightly overwhelmed. “Or drop those hankies.” Mrs. Jenkins gave them each a sip of water from a small cup and dabbed their foreheads with a cool cloth.

"Suzie, I have an idea," Lizzie whispered, her voice barely audible over the din of the carnival. "Let's really show them what we're made of!"

Suzie looked at her skeptically, "What do you mean?"

"Let's ask Mrs. Jenkins to gag us," Lizzie said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "It'll make it harder for us to laugh, and we can last longer. It'll be like a real challenge!"

Suzie's eyes widened. "Are you sure? That sounds..." She trailed off, unsure if she wanted to say the word 'scary'. But the excitement in Lizzie's eyes was contagious.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Lizzie said, her voice high pitched with excitement "We'll be the toughest tickled prisoners this village has ever seen!"

Suzie hesitated for a moment, biting her lower lip as she considered the proposal. But then she nodded, feeling a strange thrill at the idea of pushing themselves to new limits. They turned to Mrs. Jenkins and made their request. She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by their bravado, but she didn't refuse. Instead, she rummaged in a nearby box and pulled out two small, rolled-up cloths.

"Here you go," she said, holding out the makeshift gags. "But remember, you can still drop your handkerchiefs if you need to."

They both nodded solemnly and allowed Mrs. Jenkins to place the cloths in their mouths, tying them snugly behind their heads. The sudden muffling of their laughter made their eyes go wide, but the crowd's reaction was one of awe and excitement. They leaned in closer, eager to see if the girls could handle the added challenge.

“I could blindfold you too if you wanted.” She said with a cheeky yet concerned grin, “so you don’t know when it’s coming next.”

And Lizzie and Suzie both nodded their heads, the determination in their eyes unwavering. They were ready for whatever the carnival-goers had in store for them.

Mrs. Jenkins shrugged and grabbed two colorful bandanas from the box. She carefully tied them around their eyes, leaving no room for ought to get in and making it impossible for either to see anything. "Alright," she said, her voice serious now. "But remember, you're in control. If it gets too much, drop your handkerchiefs."

The crowd grew quieter, their anticipation palpable as they waited for the show to continue. The first to approach was Old Mrs Stevens, the dressmaker, who was known for a gentle touch and her love of a good laugh. Her slender, pointed dingers danced over their bare feet, and even though they couldn't see her face, they could feel the amusement in the way she tickled them. Suzie's body jerked with each touch, her muffled giggles escaping around the gag. Lizzie, ever the competitor, remained stoic, her body tightening in an effort not to laugh.

As the line grew longer, so did the variety of ticklers. Some were soft and teasing, like the feathery strokes from little Timmy, the baker's son, while others were more intense, like the strong fingers of MrsThompson, the judo teacher. Each new set of hands brought a new sensation, a new challenge to keep the laughter at bay. Suzie's body was a symphony of jolts and squirms, her cheeks flushed and eyes watering from the effort not to let out a sound.

Lizzie, on the other hand, remained eerily still, her teeth clenched around the gag, her eyes squeezed shut. She had discovered a trick: by focusing on something painful, like the tightness of the gag in her mouth, she could distract herself from the tickling. It was a strategy that earned her gasps of amazement from the onlookers and a few concerned glances from Mrs. Jenkins.

As the hours ticked by, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the square. The scent of roasting meat and freshly baked bread began to mingle with the sweetness of the cotton candy, signaling that it was almost time for dinner. The line at the tickling booth grew shorter, but no less enthusiastic.

Finally, it was the turn of Suzie and Lizzie's own mothers. Mrs. Jenkins had saved them for last, knowing that they would bring a mix of pride and embarrassment to the performance. Suzie's mother, Mrs. Taylor, had a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she approached, while Lizzie's mother, Mrs. Smith, looked torn between amusement and worry.

Mrs. Taylor took a deep breath and began her tickling assault on Suzie's feet. She was surprisingly deft, her hands moving in patterns that only a mother could know would drive her daughter wild. Suzie's body jerked and spasmed, her muffled giggles escaping in bursts. Mrs. Smith watched for a moment, her expression a mix of horror and admiration, before deciding it was time to join in. She knelt beside her daughter and started tickling Lizzie's feet.

The girls' mothers didn't hold back, their love for their daughters fueling a surprising ferocity in their tickling. The crowd roared with laughter, enjoying the rare sight of the stoic Lizzie squirming and the usually shy Suzie writhing in the stocks. Mrs. Jenkins watched with a mix of pride and concern, knowing that the girls were pushing themselves to their limits for the entertainment of the villagers.

Mrs. Taylor's tickles grew more intense, her laughter joining the crowd's as she watched her daughter's muffled struggle. Suzie's feet were now a patchwork of red marks, a testament to the relentless tickling she had endured. Her eyes darted around wildly under the blindfold, searching for a reprieve that wasn't coming. Mrs. Smith, on the other hand, took a gentler approach with Lizzie, knowing her daughter's fierce spirit. Her fingers danced around the edges of Lizzie's feet, finding the spots that made her toes curl in spite of her efforts to stay still.

The tension grew as the two mothers tickled their daughters with the finesse of seasoned pros. The crowd leaned in, their laughter growing more raucous as they watched the battle of wills unfold. Suzie's body was a blur of motion, her legs kicking and twitching in a futile attempt to escape her mother's skilled touch. Lizzie, however, remained stoic, her teeth digging into the gag as she focused on the pain in her jaw to keep from laughing.

It was then that the unthinkable happened. Suzie's hand opened up, and the red handkerchief fluttered to the ground. The crowd gasped as one, and Mrs. Taylor's tickling stopped immediately. Suzie's shoulders slumped with relief as she gulped in a lungful of air, her cheeks stained with tears of laughter. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing her bravery and endurance. Mrs. Jenkins stepped forward and untied the gag and the blindfold, her eyes filled with concern.

“Mum.” She called out after blinking enough for her eyes to adjust to the light. “It was you!”

Suzie’s voice was hoarse and strained as the gag was removed, but the accusation in her tone was unmistakable. Her mother just chuckled, her eyes gleaming with pride and mischief. “I had to give it my best shot, sweetheart. You’ve got your father’s toughness, but you’re still my little girl!”

Mrs. Jenkins patted her on the back and turned her attention to Lizzie. “And you, Lizzie, you’re a trooper. How much longer do you think you can hold out?”

Lizzie nodded, her eyes gleaming with determination. She was going to beat Suzie's record. Mrs. Smith took her place back at the stocks, her eyes twinkling with a mix of motherly love and the thrill of the challenge. She knew Lizzie was tough, but she hadn’t expected her to last this long. Her own feet were feeling the phantom sensation of tickles just watching her daughter’s ordeal.

The crowd grew silent again as Mrs. Smith's hands began their dance on Lizzie's feet. Lizzie's body remained stiff, her breathing shallow and controlled. She had discovered a rhythm to her mother's tickling, and she focused on the predictable patterns to keep her laughter at bay. The crowd watched, entranced by the little girl's endurance.

Then, as if sensing her daughter's wavering resolve, Mrs. Smith switched tactics. Her touch grew softer, more playful, and Lizzie felt a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the sun beating down on her back. It was the warmth of home, of love, of the bond they shared. And it was in that moment that she knew she couldn't hold out any longer. With a dramatic flourish, Lizzie dropped her handkerchief to the ground, her body collapsing in a fit of giggles as the gag was removed. The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers mingling with the sound of her mother's laughter.

Mrs. Jenkins stepped forward again, this time to untie Lizzie from the stocks. "You two are something else," she said with a shake of her head. "You've raised more than five hundred pounds!" She pointed to an overflowing bucket of their hard-earned loot. "I've never seen anything like it!"

The crowd dispersed, their laughter lingering in the air. Suzie and Lizzie stepped out of the stocks, their legs wobbly , their feet tingling, and their cheeks stained with tears from the intense giggling. They looked at each other, grinning despite their exhaustion. They had done it. They had survived the tickling booth, and not only that, they had raised a fortune for the village.

Mrs. Jenkins handed them each a cup of lemonade and a warm towel to wipe their faces. "You're a sight for sore eyes, girls," she said, her own laughter still bubbling in her voice. "But you've earned every coin in that bucket."

[MisterB]

Fantastic story- well done!

[TormentedSlave]

Said I would be reading your stories and this one is great! I love how you describe their tickling, its great. And how they make it harder for themselves by asking to be gagged and accepting a blindfold. And the Mothers tickling their daughters the most effectively is a great touch and a situation I think is great. I prefer belly tickling the most, but this writing was lovely