The Hunt

Original Tale: The Hunt F/m Very nonconsensual NSFW

Original Author: NightFeather

Original Publishing date: 02/03/2026

Original Source: Ticklingforum Website

“Lady Callie Galloway has been accused of the embezzlement of royal funds,”. Queen Natalia said in a regal voice while sitting on her majestic throne, “You have been found guilty and brought in front of this court for punishment. Lady Callie, do you have a statement to make before sentencing?”

Lady Callie stood before the throne wearing her finest tunic and hose. She had a look of disdain on her face as She stared at her monarch unflinchingly. She also seemed barely aware of the snickering around her from the other Lords and Ladies that served as the audience.

“Your Majesty,” Lady Callie said in a prim and proper voice, “I must again protest these proceedings. My family has been nobility for generations. Like all such families, my family has enemies. Surely your court would do better to investigate these persons instead of blaming a Galloway.”

Everyone agreed that the Queen was the epitome of style and grace. In her late fifties, she still had much of her beauty and energy, but had managed to gain the look of wisdom and shrewdness. She was admired by all her subject if not loved. Admired and a bit afraid.

Now she simply stared at the woman who was twenty years her junior. Displeasure was written across her face, a look that had made most people panic. Yet Lady Callie returned it without blinking.

“Callie, you were the kingdom’s exchequer, a position of great responsibility. Not only have you abused that trust but have the gall to stand here showing no remorse of any kind. We are most displeased.

The crowd of nobles held their breath. Something big was coming.

“Therefore,” the Queen said sternly, “I sentence you to The Hunt. Let my judgement go forth throughout the land. At dawn, Lady Callie Galloway becomes prey.”

The Hunt. It was a punishment rarely used on nobility. Sentencing Callie to be prey showed how angry the Queen truly was. The gathered nobility, which only minutes before had found great humor in the trial, gasped in shock when the sentence was passed down.

The Queen was a woman of…exotic sexual tastes. As supreme monarch, she used all her subjects to indulge those tastes, and The Hunt was the direct result. It required a person, designated as the prey to be released into the village wearing only a pair of shorts, sandals and a dog collar. Everyone in the village could then hunt her like an animal.

That wasn’t the worst part. If any of the hunters could subdue her and **** her to submit, She would be **** to be their **** for a period determined by the Queen. It was the ultimate in humiliation and even worse for a noble.

And that wasn't even the exotic part. **** was forbidden during the Hunt as the Queen abhorred bloodshed. Instead, the weapon the hunters used, the technique that would break the prey was tickling.

The Hunt wasn't the only tickling related activity the Queen had **** on her subject. Public tickling, with the prisoners in stocks or with their hands tied over their, were becoming more common. The most ticklish people dreaded being invited to her ‘Parties’ knowing they would be the entertainment.

Despite being shocked when it first began, years later the Hunt was treated as a sport by the populace, a contest of wills between one person and everyone else in the village. If the Prey won, their victory was celebrated as a great triumph. If they lost…well, observing their humiliation was almost as good for some people.

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The sun was low in the west, signaling that sunset was only an hour or two away. In the middle of summer, that meant that the day was more than half over. Lady Callie would have gloated had anyone been there. She was still free, and She knew exactly why too. As a noblewoman, she had superior genes, superior intelligence and superior breeding. The commoners had no chance of defeating a woman like her.

She’d managed to hide from some of the lowly peasants, run from others and even out tickle a few. Victory would be her as there was no one who could prove themselves her better.

Not that Callie hadn’t had some close calls. When fleeing from Duchess Gwendolin and her handmaiden, she had turned a corner and ended up face to face with her ex-wife Lady Celia, a sorceress of some skill. Before She could react, Celia had stared deep into her eyes, taking control of her mind and muscles.

As she **** her to follow her into a nearby building, Callie had felt a growing sense of dread. Their marriage had been a bad time for her. Celia had been able to use her magic to dominate and torment her. Callie had only been able to get away from her after she had gotten enough influence at court to **** a separation.

“Your mine again, forever,” she had whispered in her sultry voice as she made Callie follow her like an obedient pet. Celia was a raven haired beauty, with long legs, large breasts and wearing a low cut evening dress. Many men and women would have followed her without being bewitched.

Once in the building, Celia had started the torment. Her magic **** her to raise her arms over her head and then started tickling what had always been her favorite spot, her underarms. Callie had almost forgotten had brutal her fingernails were, sharp and deadly, four fingers glided around and around her hollows while her thumb drilled into that spot at the bottom of her pits closest to her ribs.

Her favorite trick though, was just to use her index finger, swirling around and around the tufts of hair at each underarm’s center. It was a touch she had mastered years ago and would have made her scream hysterically and beg for mercy. Except She couldn’t.

Not wanting to be discovered until she had finished the job, Celia had also used her magic to **** her to be silent. Unable to make a noise, Callie’s laughter built inside her like a volcano. Sweat beaded her forehead and tears streamed down her cheeks. Unable to move a muscle, all She could do was stand there grinning like an idiot.

After exploiting that area of her body, Celia had gone for the kill. Pulling her shorts down to her knees, she had pulled a feather out of a hidden pocket. Seeing her former wife was already dripping, she began stroking her entrance with the plume.

For Callie, it was like being hit by a wall of energy. Every nerve in her body cried out as that soft bit of fluff made its way up and down, up and down her entrance.

“I knew you’d be wet for me,” Celia had whispered, “Tell me you love me. Say it, say it my new ****! Say it or I’ll tickle you for a week after I break you. Say it or I’ll use some new spells I’ve learned on you. Trust me, those will be worse than this.”

Somehow, Callie didn’t say it, even when Celia swirled the feather around the head of her penis. She fought internally, using all her willpower. The worst part was that She knew if Celia kept up with the feather, She would cum no matter what She did.

“You know what that collar does?” Celia had taunted, “It lets the Queen watch all of this back in her parlor along with her friends. Right now, they are enjoying your suffering while betting on how long you’ll last. Personally, I give you five minutes.”

What ended up saving her was some noise coming from the alley behind the building. Nervous that it was more players who would take her prize away, she had gone out there to ensure they went away empty handed. That gave Callie her chance.

When Celia had demanded that She ‘Say it’ over and over, that had broken the spell of silence she had put over her. It was difficult, but Callie started to speak, reciting a chant that would break her control over her body. She had learned it during their marriage to defend herself.

It worked. Once She had regained control over her own body, Callie had pulled up her shorts and run like hell.

That hadn’t been the last time Callie almost lost to someone either. After escaping Celia, She found no one for blocks (she suspected Celia had used her magic to **** everyone to stay away). That enabled her to get into the woods on the outside of the town. It was there that She was stalked by a Bronwyn.

Bronwyn was Captain of the Queen’s Guard, a warrior woman. Her lithe, muscular body, a body like a great cat, allowed her to run for days. Callie ducked and darted between trees and under branches like a rabbit, knowing if she got her hands on her, She’d never be strong enough to get away.

“Give it up, Callie! You are far too feeble to get away from me! You know you can't get away from me little doggie! You’ll be a trophy, one I can hang on my wall!”

Callie also knew that Bronwyn had a strong dislike for women engaged in scholarly pursuits and dilettantes. Callie was both. She didn’t know what life as her **** would be, but it wouldn't be good. And she had heard that Bronwyn was both a tickler and a spanker. Her round rear was far too sensitive for such treatment.

So She ran. Not that Callie thought She could get away. She was already breathing hard and feeling her legs ache, while Bronwyn could run for days. She slipped to through the woods and under branches like a deer. With every second, she grew closer

Then it happened. When She stumbled into a clearing with a river running through it, Bronwyn decided the chase had gone on long enough. It was time to bring down her prey. She pulled out a hand crossbow and with one fluid movement shot her in the stomach.

It wasn’t a normal arrow, of course. That would have drawn the Queen’s wrath. Instead, it was a special one with a spherical head. When it hit Callie’s bare belly, the sphere burst open and covered her abs with a green goo. It was sticky and felt strange on her skin

The goo started wiggling and vibrating, pushing into her soft belly like fingers. Callie immediately erupted into laughter. She grabbed at the goo, trying to pull it off her sensitive midsection, but it was stuck fast, pulsating against her skin.

“Even slime is stronger than you! I don’t have to touch you to break you! You’re barely even a woman,” Bronwyn called out, her voice ringing with sarcasm.

The tickling robbed Callie of all coordination, making running almost impossible. Still, She struggled, lurching towards the river, Bronwyn just stood there, watching triumphantly. She had no doubt that the slime would take down her prey. She put away her weapon and started walking forward, knowing victory was at hand.

When a fingerlike projection slipped into her bellybutton, Callie stumbled and fell to the ground, laughing louder and louder. Knowing She was in another **** situation, that a woman was coming closer and closer that She couldn’t possibly get away from, Callie did the only thing She could do. She rolled.

It was quite a sight, Callie bellowing, clawing at her belly, rolling and rolling to the water. Bronwyn could have caught her, should have caught her. Maybe she was just too fascinated watching the show, or maybe she just assumed Callie would stop at the water’s edge.

She was quite surprised when She went into the river.

It was the river that saved her. The water had an instant effect on the goo, making it move slower, become less malleable. It almost took a half a minute for the tickling to stop completely. Once it did, Callie had started swimming as fast as She could.

Despite what Bronwyn thought, Callie was an excellent swimmer, practicing almost every day in the small lake on her estates. Unseen, She quickly put distance between herself and Bronwyn. Callie was able to get far enough away that She was able to surface and sneak a breath without the muscular woman seeing her. Then She was gone.

The river was fast moving and deep enough to completely hide her. Callie, surfacing only every minute or so to take a breath, was sure it would take her beyond any possible pursuit. It could be her ticket to defeating the Hunt. She never anticipated it would be the river itself that proved dangerous.

She barely saw her before she was on top of her. It was a Nixie, a sylvan creature that lived underwater and looked a lot like a beautiful, naked human female. Their skin was tinged slightly blue, and their hair the color of seaweed. That enabled them to hide underwater and not be seen.

Using that natural camouflage, the Nixie was able to sneak up on Callie. One second, She was sliding through the water, the next it was right in front of her. Before She could react, she reached out and pulled her shorts down to her ankles. Then it started tickling her round behind.

The nixie moved behind Callie faster than She could see. Her fingers hurt her backside like jets of water. They felt more like thicker, warmer water and flesh and blood. They also tickled like crazy. Callie let out a giant bubble as the tickling **** the air out of her lungs.

Callie tried to turn around, to face the nixie, but underwater, the creature was faster than any human could be. She could literally swim circles around her. She stayed behind her, letting her let her watery fingers poke her ass, the back of her thighs and behind her knees.

A stream ran up her crack, another slipped between and caressed her puckered asshole. Then one managed to find her taint, and Callie lost it.

She looked like a dog trying to chase her tail, spinning and spinning but never able to keep up with the nixie, never able to shake those damn fingers of hers. Bubbles kept coming out of her mouth, air escaping instead of laughter. Part of her wondered if when they made their way to the surface, they made a squeal when they popped.

The tickling lasted long enough that Callie certainly would have died if not for the nixie. Every so often, it would slide in front of Callie and kiss her deeply, sending life granting oxygen into her lungs. Then she was gone, tickling her again.

One more time, She was ****. How could She get away from someone that might as well have been part of the river itself? The nixie could keep her there as long as she wanted, though why, Callie had no idea. Was it possible to become a **** to a sylvan creature? Maybe it was just playing some kind of game, or maybe the collar called to it, broadcasting a need to tickle its wearer.

There was even a legend of an underwater city that the nixies kept women as breeding stock. But that was only a legend. Still it added a level of urgency to Callie's struggles.

It was only when Callie’s hands went to her sides to support muscles exhausted from the effort of swimming that She found an answer. Some of the goo was still clinging onto her skin, now feeling like thick mud. She was able to pull a handful off her skin and waited.

When the nixie next came around to breathe oxygen into her lungs, Callie shoved that handful of goo into her face.

A creature of water, having something mostly solid on her face was a new sensation. She quickly pulled away, hands going to her face to remove the foreign substance. Callie used that time to swim to the side and pull herself out of the watery tickle trap.

Somehow, She made it to the bank before the nixie could grab her and pulled herself out. Looking back, there was an usual disturbance, but the water settled down quickly.

Afterwards, She just lay on the grass, enjoying the sun and breathing. Callie knew She had had a close call, but took great pride that She escaped. Even better, her sandals had somehow stayed on, though her shorts were long gone.

“Giving up already, Lady Callie?” Before Callie could do anything, ropes were wrapped around her. Smirking at her was a nightmare worse than any she had expected. The Lady Miranda, her late father’s final wife. She had ensured not only that Lady Miranda got none of her father’s land or wealth upon ****, but that no part of the lady Miranda’s treasure that she brought into the marriage would go to her. Her destitution led to her being nunnery bound. And here she stood, grinning broadly as she removed Callie’s sandals.