ElFewja
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That’s why you don’t go into the woods – Plant/F
Synopsis: I wanted to see if I could manage a two page tickle story. I did. Very fast. Girl goes into woods, is captured and tickled by a plant. So plant/F, feet mostly.
I also sort of based this on one of fmilling’s (from TT) stories/pictures.
She had had one of those feelings all day; that today would go wrong. Normally she would listen to such intuition, but she had been tired today as a result of staying up half of the night before. Her senses, dulled, or otherwise muted, probably due to depression. Well, a break up will do that, although, for the most part, she denied the notion that she was depressed. In a hurry to get over it the feelings which she attempted to repress, she decided to take an early morning stroll in the country side.
On such a hot summer day, she would normally wear the attire which she currently wore: a simple white t shirt, blue jean shorts, and flip flops. Not the sort of thing you wear for hiking, but she had not initially intended to go as far as she did. Down the road, then across the field, and why not traverse into the forest at the field’s end, since she was already there? It had been years since she last entered.
Once, long ago, she had been told by her mother – why her mother and not her father, she wondered? – never to travel too far out here without proper footwear. She thought she had learned why when she entered the forest and discovered the difficulty of traversing the terrain without sneakers. Only a five minute walk in, and she had strongly considered turning back, but when she stopped to consider this she heard the sound of water gently pummeling rocks as it forced its way through the dirt and mud; the stream, she thought. The stream’s slow current always soothed her. So she continued.
Although she walked with great care, it was difficult for her to discern much of the ground beneath her, covered with leaves from previous seasons as it was. Something – a vine or a branch – must have been lying beneath the foliage, for when she lifted her right foot to continue onward, it seemed to catch against something, causing her to fall.
After the fall, she realized she had scraped her knee; must have tripped over some vine, or something, she thought to herself.
A sharp feeling greeted her from across her right knee moments after landing upon the crunchy, dry leaves. She had fallen onto her face and stomach, half on her right arm, her left arm twisted somewhere else; her right foot completely landed on the top of itself, while her left had it’s toes hard against the ground, gripping the edges of her flip flops material and digging softly into the mud beneath the leaves, leaving her heel pointed straight into the air. Though she had fallen before, it always hurt; that’s the annoying thing about pain, it always, always hurts, no matter how accustomed to it you become. Certainly not a bad fall, though.
Rolling onto her back, because now that she was dirty it hardly mattered, she threw her arms perpendicular to her body and sat, feeling the cool earth beneath her legs and arms, as well as through the light material of her shirt, as she gazed through the thin canopy. A distant itch on her leg did not register in her mind while she stared off, dreaming of happier days. The tightening around her ankles did draw her attention, though.
Lifting her head and looking to her ankles, she saw what appeared to be a vine or otherwise leafy apparatus wrapping itself around her ankles. Actually, as she noticed with a touch of fear, it was slowly creeping upwards, around her calves. In panic, she shot up right and began making an attempt to break the strange plant apart with her legs. The vine was unnaturally strong, though; she hardly had time to contemplate this before her right foot began to itch in a strange way. She giggled, then laughed; whatever it was had advanced from mere itch to tickles, tickling her enough to drop her hands to the ground and attempt to pull away from the sensations that seemed attached to her foot as she flailed them.
While she began to laugh, she felt another vine creep up her torso; already her hands were trapped at her sides, she realized, as the vine crept up against her sides, trapping her arms to them. Another vine, this one with a large leaf, wrapped itself around her face, essentially gagging her; still two more moved to the small strap that held her flip flops between her toes, before disappearing to the bush near by where she realized they were appearing, dragging her pathetic protection with them. The feeling she had noticed on her right foot appeared on her left, surprising her with further tickles that caused her to laugh, and then scream, against the leaf that stifled her. Through what consciousness she was allowed during the horrid tickling, she realized the sensations felt similar to the leaf covering her mouth. They multiplied quickly, so that each foot, she assumed, had several leafy contraptions caressing it on key places, as she flapped her feet madly in response, serving no purpose other than wasting precious energy that could have been better spent struggling.
The toes were next; the vine from her ankles continued to spread, but now closer to her feet, edging its way down them while she watched in horror, attempting to scream at it from behind her leaf-gag before settling into a flurry of laughter, closing her eyes and falling onto her side as she shook from the powerful feelings which ravaged against her soles. Through a peeked eye she saw the vine split into two, then five, then ten, each moving towards a toe, then carefully wrapping around each one and tugging them back. If her bondage permitted it, she would have howled with laughter, noticing the sensations increase hundred fold as electricity alerted her mind that her feet experiencing unprecedented sensation, as if she didn’t already know how ticklish she was. She attempted to howl back at her brain that yes, in fact, she did realize that she was ticklish, but her cries hardly made sense to herself, let alone any creature, fictional or otherwise.
More leaves began moving across her vulnerable feet; each toe felt the soft caresses, both heels, each ball, each arch in several places of both sensitized soles, and what she could only imagine to be a hundred more queer sensations upon her foot bottoms. She felt more leaves under her shirt; desperately, she wanted to howl out, how did they get there! It felt like they were counting her ribs; and then another in her belly button, and then her neck and spine! Desperately she tried to laugh through the leaf, her laughter the only escape left for the sensations that rampaged through her mind and body now. This is why, she realized, as tears welled up in her eyes from laughing so hard, her diaphragm sore from its repeated and rapid use, this is why mother warned me. She continued to laugh for an eternity before realizing, though the vines remained around her body, their grip had loosened severely. The nerve endings on her foot bottoms still tingled from the memories of caresses, but the leaves didn’t move anymore. As she flexed her feet, she accidentally tickled herself with an immobile leaf, giggling breathlessly with what energy she had left, before breaking the vines by pulling her arms and legs apart. The rest, she pulled away with her now free hands, checking several places to make sure that she was still fine; her soles were a very vibrant pink, but other than that and the damage she had sustained from the fall, she seemed fine.
As she regained her senses, she looked around desperately for her flip flops, greatly wishing to wear them once more, but she was unable to find them. Sitting up with her regained strength, now that several minutes had passed, she hugged her knees and let her soles touch the grass and cool yet mostly solidified mud beneath her; her struggles, it would seem, had scattered any. With the lightest of sounds, her flip flops landed next to her; startled, she turned in the direction they had to have come from, seeing a rather brutish, hairy and unshaven man approaching her, carrying an axe covered with a bluish slime. Her eyes went wide, causing the man to laugh heartily.
“Fear not, child; I’m a resident of these woods.” With a sigh of relief, she nodded, before greedily grabbing at her flip flops, thrusting them onto her abused feet. Again the man laughed. “Serves you right, I suppose, though I kept quiet when you were captured because I wanted to watch. I figured, if someone would actually get captured by that stupid thing, let them die; but I just barely decided against it. Well, now you know this forest’s dark secret, eh? It’s sort of like a Venus fly trap, that plant; traps the victim, then tickles them senseless until they lose all of their energy. That way, when it consumes them, the prey won’t fight back as much. Won’t damage the plant, then. It’s dead, so don’t worry. There are more, though.” He said with a grin.
That was all she needed to hear. She jumped up, turned, and ran, swearing heartily to herself that she would never return.
Synopsis: I wanted to see if I could manage a two page tickle story. I did. Very fast. Girl goes into woods, is captured and tickled by a plant. So plant/F, feet mostly.
I also sort of based this on one of fmilling’s (from TT) stories/pictures.
She had had one of those feelings all day; that today would go wrong. Normally she would listen to such intuition, but she had been tired today as a result of staying up half of the night before. Her senses, dulled, or otherwise muted, probably due to depression. Well, a break up will do that, although, for the most part, she denied the notion that she was depressed. In a hurry to get over it the feelings which she attempted to repress, she decided to take an early morning stroll in the country side.
On such a hot summer day, she would normally wear the attire which she currently wore: a simple white t shirt, blue jean shorts, and flip flops. Not the sort of thing you wear for hiking, but she had not initially intended to go as far as she did. Down the road, then across the field, and why not traverse into the forest at the field’s end, since she was already there? It had been years since she last entered.
Once, long ago, she had been told by her mother – why her mother and not her father, she wondered? – never to travel too far out here without proper footwear. She thought she had learned why when she entered the forest and discovered the difficulty of traversing the terrain without sneakers. Only a five minute walk in, and she had strongly considered turning back, but when she stopped to consider this she heard the sound of water gently pummeling rocks as it forced its way through the dirt and mud; the stream, she thought. The stream’s slow current always soothed her. So she continued.
Although she walked with great care, it was difficult for her to discern much of the ground beneath her, covered with leaves from previous seasons as it was. Something – a vine or a branch – must have been lying beneath the foliage, for when she lifted her right foot to continue onward, it seemed to catch against something, causing her to fall.
After the fall, she realized she had scraped her knee; must have tripped over some vine, or something, she thought to herself.
A sharp feeling greeted her from across her right knee moments after landing upon the crunchy, dry leaves. She had fallen onto her face and stomach, half on her right arm, her left arm twisted somewhere else; her right foot completely landed on the top of itself, while her left had it’s toes hard against the ground, gripping the edges of her flip flops material and digging softly into the mud beneath the leaves, leaving her heel pointed straight into the air. Though she had fallen before, it always hurt; that’s the annoying thing about pain, it always, always hurts, no matter how accustomed to it you become. Certainly not a bad fall, though.
Rolling onto her back, because now that she was dirty it hardly mattered, she threw her arms perpendicular to her body and sat, feeling the cool earth beneath her legs and arms, as well as through the light material of her shirt, as she gazed through the thin canopy. A distant itch on her leg did not register in her mind while she stared off, dreaming of happier days. The tightening around her ankles did draw her attention, though.
Lifting her head and looking to her ankles, she saw what appeared to be a vine or otherwise leafy apparatus wrapping itself around her ankles. Actually, as she noticed with a touch of fear, it was slowly creeping upwards, around her calves. In panic, she shot up right and began making an attempt to break the strange plant apart with her legs. The vine was unnaturally strong, though; she hardly had time to contemplate this before her right foot began to itch in a strange way. She giggled, then laughed; whatever it was had advanced from mere itch to tickles, tickling her enough to drop her hands to the ground and attempt to pull away from the sensations that seemed attached to her foot as she flailed them.
While she began to laugh, she felt another vine creep up her torso; already her hands were trapped at her sides, she realized, as the vine crept up against her sides, trapping her arms to them. Another vine, this one with a large leaf, wrapped itself around her face, essentially gagging her; still two more moved to the small strap that held her flip flops between her toes, before disappearing to the bush near by where she realized they were appearing, dragging her pathetic protection with them. The feeling she had noticed on her right foot appeared on her left, surprising her with further tickles that caused her to laugh, and then scream, against the leaf that stifled her. Through what consciousness she was allowed during the horrid tickling, she realized the sensations felt similar to the leaf covering her mouth. They multiplied quickly, so that each foot, she assumed, had several leafy contraptions caressing it on key places, as she flapped her feet madly in response, serving no purpose other than wasting precious energy that could have been better spent struggling.
The toes were next; the vine from her ankles continued to spread, but now closer to her feet, edging its way down them while she watched in horror, attempting to scream at it from behind her leaf-gag before settling into a flurry of laughter, closing her eyes and falling onto her side as she shook from the powerful feelings which ravaged against her soles. Through a peeked eye she saw the vine split into two, then five, then ten, each moving towards a toe, then carefully wrapping around each one and tugging them back. If her bondage permitted it, she would have howled with laughter, noticing the sensations increase hundred fold as electricity alerted her mind that her feet experiencing unprecedented sensation, as if she didn’t already know how ticklish she was. She attempted to howl back at her brain that yes, in fact, she did realize that she was ticklish, but her cries hardly made sense to herself, let alone any creature, fictional or otherwise.
More leaves began moving across her vulnerable feet; each toe felt the soft caresses, both heels, each ball, each arch in several places of both sensitized soles, and what she could only imagine to be a hundred more queer sensations upon her foot bottoms. She felt more leaves under her shirt; desperately, she wanted to howl out, how did they get there! It felt like they were counting her ribs; and then another in her belly button, and then her neck and spine! Desperately she tried to laugh through the leaf, her laughter the only escape left for the sensations that rampaged through her mind and body now. This is why, she realized, as tears welled up in her eyes from laughing so hard, her diaphragm sore from its repeated and rapid use, this is why mother warned me. She continued to laugh for an eternity before realizing, though the vines remained around her body, their grip had loosened severely. The nerve endings on her foot bottoms still tingled from the memories of caresses, but the leaves didn’t move anymore. As she flexed her feet, she accidentally tickled herself with an immobile leaf, giggling breathlessly with what energy she had left, before breaking the vines by pulling her arms and legs apart. The rest, she pulled away with her now free hands, checking several places to make sure that she was still fine; her soles were a very vibrant pink, but other than that and the damage she had sustained from the fall, she seemed fine.
As she regained her senses, she looked around desperately for her flip flops, greatly wishing to wear them once more, but she was unable to find them. Sitting up with her regained strength, now that several minutes had passed, she hugged her knees and let her soles touch the grass and cool yet mostly solidified mud beneath her; her struggles, it would seem, had scattered any. With the lightest of sounds, her flip flops landed next to her; startled, she turned in the direction they had to have come from, seeing a rather brutish, hairy and unshaven man approaching her, carrying an axe covered with a bluish slime. Her eyes went wide, causing the man to laugh heartily.
“Fear not, child; I’m a resident of these woods.” With a sigh of relief, she nodded, before greedily grabbing at her flip flops, thrusting them onto her abused feet. Again the man laughed. “Serves you right, I suppose, though I kept quiet when you were captured because I wanted to watch. I figured, if someone would actually get captured by that stupid thing, let them die; but I just barely decided against it. Well, now you know this forest’s dark secret, eh? It’s sort of like a Venus fly trap, that plant; traps the victim, then tickles them senseless until they lose all of their energy. That way, when it consumes them, the prey won’t fight back as much. Won’t damage the plant, then. It’s dead, so don’t worry. There are more, though.” He said with a grin.
That was all she needed to hear. She jumped up, turned, and ran, swearing heartily to herself that she would never return.
