## New Story...OLIVER IN TROUBLE

Post by Jeremy C » Wed Jul 04, 2012 10:37 pm

I would like to attach a story I wrote. How do I do that?
Oliver was in deep trouble! After begging for more food to eat, the men caught him running barefoot across the tables of the workhouse.
“To the stocks with him! Subject young Oliver to tickle torture till he learns discipline! The goat’s tongue will teach him to mind his!” Mr. Bumble yelled.
The nine-year-old boy squirmed in the iron grip of the men, but it was no use. They carried him away to his awful fate. In the dungeon, behind the barrels of pickles and wheat the boys’ ground into flour, was a sturdy set of wooden stocks, child-sized. They bound his thin wrists behind his back with heavy cord, looping the rope around several times, and binding his upper arms together behind his back, so he could barely squirm. Then, they locked his ankles into the wooden frame and secured it with a solid padlock. Bumble kept the key. Two of the boys from upstairs delighted in Oliver’s predicament. One started brushing a salty brine solution to the exposed soles of Oliver’s bare feet, layer upon layer, which made the boy giggle.
“Feet ticklish?” Charlie asked with a vicious grin. “You’re in for it now!”
While Charlie got the victim’s feet ready, Bradley forced Oliver to swallow a whole gallon of water. Oliver didn’t know what the point of all that water was, not yet. It was some time, a half hour or so, with one boy constantly coating the soles of Oliver’s bare feet with the brine, and the other making Oliver drink glass after glass of water, before he started to realize the full weight of his predicament. His bladder was starting to fill up, and they hadn’t given him a chance to use the privy! The skinny nine-year-old began to squirm uncomfortably, but the ropes were unmercifully tight, the holes in the stocks holding securely onto his ankles. He couldn’t move, could barely squirm.
Bumble approached, a goat on a leash, a mean expression on his face. “Very well, I think the young stripling’s ready for his punishment!”
Bumble secured the leash to the stocks, and the goat immediately began to lap away at the treat, its rough tongue lapping from heel to wriggling toes. Oliver exploded into uncontrollable laughter! It was unbelievably ticklish! The boy started laughing immediately, helpless to hold it back.
“Pleeez!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA! DON’T! AH’M TICKLISH!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!! PLEEEZ! NOT MY FEET! ANYTHING BUT MY BARE FEET!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” Oliver begged, pleaded, and squirmed, to no avail. He couldn’t even kick, could just curl his small toes, in a desperate attempt to keep them protected. Before too long, Oliver’s face grew red, and tears streamed down his cheeks. His bursting bladder drew more and more attention; it felt like an ache of urine, a balloon about to explode! He didn’t want to wet himself, but he didn’t know how much longer he could endure this insidious torture!
“Charlie, go fetch another one!” Bumble ordered, and the small red-headed boy dashed off. Meanwhile, Bradley, the platinum blond tyke, had taken a feather, and was adding to Oliver’s agony. While the feather crept up under the helpless boy’s chin, the other hand found Oliver’s skinny ribs! By now, the nine-year-Old’s lungs were burning for air, and tears were streaming freely down his rosy cheeks. His small wrists were becoming chaffed with the effort of trying to squirm free, and his bladder was demanding constant attention. It was an effort just to hold back that awful gush of urine, not to mention fighting for each and every breath of air! Oliver didn’t know how much longer he could take this, how much longer he could hold the flood back!
“Good, good! The little trouble-maker can’t possibly last much longer! He’s going to wet himself for sure! Then, we’ll march him through the workhouse like that, with a large wet stain in the middle of his trousers, his hands still bound behind his back.”
By now, Charlie had returned with the second goat. Oliver saw it as a blur through his tears, and he begged, “NOOOO!! PLEEEZ NOT THAT! NOT BOTH FEET AT THE SAME TIME!!! I HAFTA PEE!!! I SWEAR IT!!! PLEEZ!!! AH’LL DO ANYTHING!!!! NO MORE TICKLES! PLEEZZ!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”
The second goat began to lap away at the treat, and Oliver’s agony was doubled! Now he couldn’t breathe at all, couldn’t even get the breath up to beg for mercy! The poor little boy’s breath was a wheeze, his face and shirt wet from tears,

### Re: New Story...OLIVER IN TROUBLE

Post by sarumansauron » Fri Jul 06, 2012 3:11 pm

Great story! Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

### Re: New Story...OLIVER IN TROUBLE

Post by Jeremy C » Sun Jul 08, 2012 9:22 pm

Good...this is actually based on what really happend at camp when I was little, skinny, and extremely ticklish...other things happened besides, but I guess you guess that.....
After being desperate, TRULY DESPERATE to PEE and tickled and tickled for hours, my cut offs were soaked, and Daniel escorted us back across the field to change, in front of all the other boys...we never lived that down...
By the way, howcum the jpg I attached to this story never appeared?

### Re: New Story...OLIVER IN TROUBLE

Post by luckydog3 » Mon Jul 09, 2012 7:42 am

Thanks for sharing.
Looking forward to hearing about your other experiences.