ElFewja
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I wrote this not terribly long after the last spiders story I did (can be found here) because I was not as satisfied with the finished product as much as I could have been. This is much closer to the original idea, but still isn’t what I originally had in mind. The story represents more of a fantasy I’ve had for years about a woman being wrapped in a spider web, thus leaving her unable to escape the tickling. I wanted the spiders to do it, unlike the last one, but I threw in a woman as a form of story anyway. I feel like I could have left her out and made this a better piece by incorporating mystery, but it would also have felt a little incomplete. Ah well. I still liked this a fair bit. Enjoy.
Awake again (Spiders/F Feet)
Taishir awoke with a start as a familiar feeling on the bottom of her large toe screamed for her attention. Tearing through dreamless sleep, she emerged within the waking world anew to find that her situation had not changed in the slightest; she still hung there, upside down, helpless to what would happen to her, and from the tingling itch that urged her to scream forth with what strength she could muster, she knew that it began again.
Though the forest was dark, as the thick, leafy canopy that reached nearly to the gods and their celestial clouds consumed all light, she could see some things through the silvery, skin tight cocoon that she had awoken in some days ago, but the scenery never changed; the thick tree trunks still looked blacker than the devil’s maw; the leafless branches that held her cocoon seemed so dark that the term black seemed not to suffice; a new term, a new word or color, should be created to describe the absolute absence of light that the thick trunk before her seemed to emanate; to devour any light into a seamless void, from which to never return. The itch soon grew in magnitude, and she swiftly lost the ability to discern her empty surroundings further.
Due to the cocoon’s nature, she was bound entirely, so that she could not so much as wiggle an arm or a leg. Even her mouth was closed shut by that sticky substance; beyond her feet she had remained largely untouched by those wicked things that now crawled about her soles as if they, those sensitive apparatuses that they were, had become the sacred grounds of her captors, who deemed to torture her to no end with their hairy, quite ticklish legs. Unfortunately for her, despite those spiders thorough nature in binding her tightly from her mouth to the tops of her feet, her very sensitive foot bottoms remained extremely bare, so that the spiders might subject her to this ticklish torment which would cause her to scream against were she allowed. Oh, but they were wicked, for they had covered the tops of her feet with their webs, which seemed odd until that first morning here, when she had discovered that by being bound this way, her ability to flay her feet about in defense had been stripped of her, much like if her feet were placed within very sturdy boots and the bottoms were ripped away, thus forcing her to endure the furious wrath of every subtle movement that those wicked things made.
Despite her fifteen years as a scholar, and even though she had been educated in all things related to language from the age of four, she could not remember a term in any tongue other than that of tickle in her native language. Though there was only that one word to describe the feeling, she thought as she smiled into her private cocoon that muted what otherwise would have been hysterical laughter and shrieks, it certainly was not a strong enough term to truly describe the torture she endured now, nor could it come close to containing the amount of suffering those trembling things had invoked upon her feet since her capture. It seemed almost to suck the life from her soul with each passing second.
For however long it was that those incessant beings tormented her, she swung about, rocking her private cage in the still air, alone among those uncaring, half dead trees. Distantly, she became aware that she was not alone, for though Taishir could hardly make out the figure of another human, she knew it to be there, at the base of the tree from which she hung, watching and smiling at the supposed humor Taishir incited for that person who was too cruel to release her; she considered herself to be alone as that person’s presence hardly existed; that she alone endured this trial, the trial of her silky, sensitive bare soles, which had but twice graced the ground free of any footwear. Except now, as she felt the bottoms of her feet become overlaid with a hundred, or perhaps a thousand, spiders scurrying about hurriedly all over her toes, arches and heels; each spider seemed to push ten or twenty other tiny bodies away while searching her smoothened, succulent flesh for particularly ripe areas so that they might trod upon it, causing her great agony with each subtle movement of their legs; she wished deeply she never had bared them at all; that she never had decided to rest her weary feet in the stream, whose slow flowing, thick liquid might as well have been oil in this perpetual night.
It served that person who rested before Taishir that he – or she, she supposed, as she could not know in this darkness – should rise and approach Taishir, slowly, certainly in no hurry. As she neared – it was likely a she, by the pale and smooth complexion, and long flowing hair that could have been any number of dark colors, but not any light ones – Taishir thanked the heavens, thinking only of her release as she watched each slow and agonizingly purposeful step that that kind woman took.
However, when she reached Taishir, there appeared to be only malice in what she had assumed to be her saviors eyes. Hunger, too, seemed to radiate from her, as she stared at the suffering Taishir that moaned and muffled against her prison; the woman did nothing save stand there, staring into her eyes. For an eternity that woman stared into Taishir’s eyes, appearing to devour her soul with that gaze alone, until at long last, she spoke.
“Come, sing for me, my pretty captive,” she spoke, so softly that, had Taishir’s tongue been free, the woman’s words would have been drowned out by the inevitable laugher and screams which tried so desperately to break free from her encased lips now. Then, just like that, she reached forward and ripped away the sticky silk that bound her mouth shut, freeing her to scream brutally between frenzied laughter.
For long minutes, Taishir drowned the surrounding glade with her laughter, guaranteeing that all beings within hearing knew of the suffering that those spiders put her through. But as the woman stared into her eyes and gaping mouth, she felt fear coldly burn again for the first time in days, it’s flame stifled the moment that woman spoke again. “Yes, laugh for me, my precious child. Show me how much you suffer, please. Beg; scream!” she commanded before cackling, and walking back into the nothingness that obscured Taishir’s vision.
“Wait, please! Plehehehease releehehease me!”
“Why should I do that, dear?”
“Because! Becauhahahause!”
“Because why?”
“Because it tickles!”
“Does it, now? That’s a pity, isn’t it? You must have truly tender tootsies, hm?”
“Yehehees!”
“Tell me, dear; how much does it tickle?”
“It tickles! It tickles!”
“Ah yes, but how much?”
“More than… more than...”
“Yes?”
“Anything!”
“I do doubt that, but I’ll accept it. Tell me how it feels; describe it to me,” she continued, her voice like an acid that burned through an ingot of pure and carefully crafted steel, until at last the smoking crater that remained showed that the marble floor beneath had yielded to the venom that dripped from each word.
“It tickles!”
“Yes, I gathered that much, by your crazed laughter. How, though, does it feel?”
“It… it…!” she sprayed out between large guffaws, as the spiders trying to sneak across each base of her toes failed to do so, alerting every sensory receptor there of their presence.
“Yes?”
“It tickles!!” she screamed, at last, hearing her words echo throughout the dark woods around her as she laughed hysterically.
“I suppose. Isn’t it a pity, then, that you should be wrapped so, barefoot as you are? Why, I suppose those boots, by the tree’s base over here,” that woman waved with her hand, though she was now beyond Taishir’s sight, “Are yours, are they not?”
“Yehehehes!”
“I do suppose you wish you had them now? Truly a pity, truly. I suppose, with out them, you shall have to remain there, like this, laughing forever, isn’t that right?”
“No! Nohoho! Anything but that! Please!”
“It truly is a pity, isn’t it? A veritable shame, it is. And I suppose I shall sit here, and listen to your song for as long as you are willing to sing it for me, my precious parrot.”
“Oh, plehehehase! I’m too- I’m too-“
“Ticklish? Oh, I know. I’ve always known. And that is why you shall remain here, and laugh for me and my spider’s amusement, fair Taishir.”
And so, as there was not another soul within that thick maze of bark, Taishir continued to laugh, the muscles at the ends of her mouth burning as much as her gut from the forced strain before long. Soon, she passed back into the void of sleep, having exhausted all energy she had managed to scrutinize during her rest with one last guffaw from her pink, smiling lips. The woman sat patiently, calling her creatures away for the time being so that her victim might rest for but a few hours before again entertaining her for many more to follow, while all the while she would caress the poor woman’s footwear, knowing full well that those tiny pieces of leather were more valuable than anything to Taishir, and may be bargained for at any cost, when she awoke again. Though, she truly had fun watching Taishir suffer, and intended to prolong the agonies that her spiders weaved about that poor girls feet, hoping to gain as much as a kingdom’s ransom in gold for those pieces of leather that, if she ever did return to Taishir, would only strip away soon after.
But all of that would wait until she awoke again, she knew.
Awake again (Spiders/F Feet)
Taishir awoke with a start as a familiar feeling on the bottom of her large toe screamed for her attention. Tearing through dreamless sleep, she emerged within the waking world anew to find that her situation had not changed in the slightest; she still hung there, upside down, helpless to what would happen to her, and from the tingling itch that urged her to scream forth with what strength she could muster, she knew that it began again.
Though the forest was dark, as the thick, leafy canopy that reached nearly to the gods and their celestial clouds consumed all light, she could see some things through the silvery, skin tight cocoon that she had awoken in some days ago, but the scenery never changed; the thick tree trunks still looked blacker than the devil’s maw; the leafless branches that held her cocoon seemed so dark that the term black seemed not to suffice; a new term, a new word or color, should be created to describe the absolute absence of light that the thick trunk before her seemed to emanate; to devour any light into a seamless void, from which to never return. The itch soon grew in magnitude, and she swiftly lost the ability to discern her empty surroundings further.
Due to the cocoon’s nature, she was bound entirely, so that she could not so much as wiggle an arm or a leg. Even her mouth was closed shut by that sticky substance; beyond her feet she had remained largely untouched by those wicked things that now crawled about her soles as if they, those sensitive apparatuses that they were, had become the sacred grounds of her captors, who deemed to torture her to no end with their hairy, quite ticklish legs. Unfortunately for her, despite those spiders thorough nature in binding her tightly from her mouth to the tops of her feet, her very sensitive foot bottoms remained extremely bare, so that the spiders might subject her to this ticklish torment which would cause her to scream against were she allowed. Oh, but they were wicked, for they had covered the tops of her feet with their webs, which seemed odd until that first morning here, when she had discovered that by being bound this way, her ability to flay her feet about in defense had been stripped of her, much like if her feet were placed within very sturdy boots and the bottoms were ripped away, thus forcing her to endure the furious wrath of every subtle movement that those wicked things made.
Despite her fifteen years as a scholar, and even though she had been educated in all things related to language from the age of four, she could not remember a term in any tongue other than that of tickle in her native language. Though there was only that one word to describe the feeling, she thought as she smiled into her private cocoon that muted what otherwise would have been hysterical laughter and shrieks, it certainly was not a strong enough term to truly describe the torture she endured now, nor could it come close to containing the amount of suffering those trembling things had invoked upon her feet since her capture. It seemed almost to suck the life from her soul with each passing second.
For however long it was that those incessant beings tormented her, she swung about, rocking her private cage in the still air, alone among those uncaring, half dead trees. Distantly, she became aware that she was not alone, for though Taishir could hardly make out the figure of another human, she knew it to be there, at the base of the tree from which she hung, watching and smiling at the supposed humor Taishir incited for that person who was too cruel to release her; she considered herself to be alone as that person’s presence hardly existed; that she alone endured this trial, the trial of her silky, sensitive bare soles, which had but twice graced the ground free of any footwear. Except now, as she felt the bottoms of her feet become overlaid with a hundred, or perhaps a thousand, spiders scurrying about hurriedly all over her toes, arches and heels; each spider seemed to push ten or twenty other tiny bodies away while searching her smoothened, succulent flesh for particularly ripe areas so that they might trod upon it, causing her great agony with each subtle movement of their legs; she wished deeply she never had bared them at all; that she never had decided to rest her weary feet in the stream, whose slow flowing, thick liquid might as well have been oil in this perpetual night.
It served that person who rested before Taishir that he – or she, she supposed, as she could not know in this darkness – should rise and approach Taishir, slowly, certainly in no hurry. As she neared – it was likely a she, by the pale and smooth complexion, and long flowing hair that could have been any number of dark colors, but not any light ones – Taishir thanked the heavens, thinking only of her release as she watched each slow and agonizingly purposeful step that that kind woman took.
However, when she reached Taishir, there appeared to be only malice in what she had assumed to be her saviors eyes. Hunger, too, seemed to radiate from her, as she stared at the suffering Taishir that moaned and muffled against her prison; the woman did nothing save stand there, staring into her eyes. For an eternity that woman stared into Taishir’s eyes, appearing to devour her soul with that gaze alone, until at long last, she spoke.
“Come, sing for me, my pretty captive,” she spoke, so softly that, had Taishir’s tongue been free, the woman’s words would have been drowned out by the inevitable laugher and screams which tried so desperately to break free from her encased lips now. Then, just like that, she reached forward and ripped away the sticky silk that bound her mouth shut, freeing her to scream brutally between frenzied laughter.
For long minutes, Taishir drowned the surrounding glade with her laughter, guaranteeing that all beings within hearing knew of the suffering that those spiders put her through. But as the woman stared into her eyes and gaping mouth, she felt fear coldly burn again for the first time in days, it’s flame stifled the moment that woman spoke again. “Yes, laugh for me, my precious child. Show me how much you suffer, please. Beg; scream!” she commanded before cackling, and walking back into the nothingness that obscured Taishir’s vision.
“Wait, please! Plehehehease releehehease me!”
“Why should I do that, dear?”
“Because! Becauhahahause!”
“Because why?”
“Because it tickles!”
“Does it, now? That’s a pity, isn’t it? You must have truly tender tootsies, hm?”
“Yehehees!”
“Tell me, dear; how much does it tickle?”
“It tickles! It tickles!”
“Ah yes, but how much?”
“More than… more than...”
“Yes?”
“Anything!”
“I do doubt that, but I’ll accept it. Tell me how it feels; describe it to me,” she continued, her voice like an acid that burned through an ingot of pure and carefully crafted steel, until at last the smoking crater that remained showed that the marble floor beneath had yielded to the venom that dripped from each word.
“It tickles!”
“Yes, I gathered that much, by your crazed laughter. How, though, does it feel?”
“It… it…!” she sprayed out between large guffaws, as the spiders trying to sneak across each base of her toes failed to do so, alerting every sensory receptor there of their presence.
“Yes?”
“It tickles!!” she screamed, at last, hearing her words echo throughout the dark woods around her as she laughed hysterically.
“I suppose. Isn’t it a pity, then, that you should be wrapped so, barefoot as you are? Why, I suppose those boots, by the tree’s base over here,” that woman waved with her hand, though she was now beyond Taishir’s sight, “Are yours, are they not?”
“Yehehehes!”
“I do suppose you wish you had them now? Truly a pity, truly. I suppose, with out them, you shall have to remain there, like this, laughing forever, isn’t that right?”
“No! Nohoho! Anything but that! Please!”
“It truly is a pity, isn’t it? A veritable shame, it is. And I suppose I shall sit here, and listen to your song for as long as you are willing to sing it for me, my precious parrot.”
“Oh, plehehehase! I’m too- I’m too-“
“Ticklish? Oh, I know. I’ve always known. And that is why you shall remain here, and laugh for me and my spider’s amusement, fair Taishir.”
And so, as there was not another soul within that thick maze of bark, Taishir continued to laugh, the muscles at the ends of her mouth burning as much as her gut from the forced strain before long. Soon, she passed back into the void of sleep, having exhausted all energy she had managed to scrutinize during her rest with one last guffaw from her pink, smiling lips. The woman sat patiently, calling her creatures away for the time being so that her victim might rest for but a few hours before again entertaining her for many more to follow, while all the while she would caress the poor woman’s footwear, knowing full well that those tiny pieces of leather were more valuable than anything to Taishir, and may be bargained for at any cost, when she awoke again. Though, she truly had fun watching Taishir suffer, and intended to prolong the agonies that her spiders weaved about that poor girls feet, hoping to gain as much as a kingdom’s ransom in gold for those pieces of leather that, if she ever did return to Taishir, would only strip away soon after.
But all of that would wait until she awoke again, she knew.
.
