Tickle Magic: A Fantasy Tickle Torture Story

By Kayla Rhodes

Lady Elycia’s new spell isn’t quite working. The feathers will dance around the room flicking against her, but it doesn’t tickle. She enlists the help of Tsil, a renowned (and absolutely gorgeous) mage to put the finishing touches on the spell. But Tsil is a crafty woman, and if she has her way, the spell won’t be the only thing ‘finishing’...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kayla Rhodes
• Release date: Jun 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393736905

Kayla Rhodes

Kayla is an author of erotic short stories, specializing in weird kinks and misfit niches. Check out her website if you have any story requests!

Book preview

My spell wasn’t working.

I knew it was an ambitious spell to begin with, but I thought I could do it. The idea of it was simple – I wanted to create a home protection spell that, instead of injuring intruders, would simply tickle them mercilessly until they left.

The idea came to me after I heard of another noble lady, like myself, who had been fined for a spell that delivered mild electric shocks. According to the new decree, any spell that causes physical violence needed a special (and hard to obtain) permit. I would have thought the electric shocks would be under the threshold for violence, but apparently not.

However, my idea was sure to pass the inspections. No one in their right mind would classify tickling as a violent offence. And at the same time, even the most hardened of criminals wouldn’t be able to endure being tickled for long. It was a standard truth of life that no one liked to be tickled.

Except me, of course. I loved it.

I thought that my innate love of tickling would make the spell easier to create, but I was wrong. I was able to get the basic mechanics of it down easily enough – it was essentially a very specialize levitation spell. However, instead of just floating, I had to make the feathers dance and swirl around, teasing at the victim in all the right spots to make them laugh helplessly.

I stood in the meeting hall of my manor, and the feathers spun around me in beautiful displays of color, brushing against my skin when I commanded them to do so. But it wasn’t tickling me.