wearyfoxes
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[All characters in this version of the fairy tale are 18+]
When dawn broke, the lovers started to wander about the forest, seeking a path, but all hope soon faded. They were well and truly lost. On they walked and walked, till suddenly they came upon a strange cottage in the middle of a glade.
"This is chocolate!" gasped Hansel as he broke a lump of plaster from the wall.
"And this is icing!" exclaimed Gretel, taking Hansel’s bare foot, spreading the sticky paste all over it, crumbling pieces of gingerbread all over, and then putting his big sticky toe in her mouth. Starving but delighted, she began to eat the pieces of candy broken off the cottage from Hansel’s foot.
"Isn't this delicious?" said Gretel, with her mouth full. She had never tasted anything so nice.
"We'll stay here," Hansel moaned in delight as his girlfriend flicked her tongue across his sole, licking bits of nougat from between his toes. She was just about to lick clean the icing-covered arch of his foot when the door of the cottage quietly swung open.
"Well, well!" said a beautiful young woman, peering out with a crafty look. "And haven't you two lovers a sweet tooth?"
"Come in! Come in, you've nothing to fear!" went on the young woman, who was not much older than Gretel. Unluckily for Hansel and Gretel, however, the sugar candy cottage belonged to a witch, her trap for catching unwary tickle victims. The two lovers had come to a really nasty place.
"Your feet look rather ticklish!" said the witch, locking Hansel into a cage. We shall lock you up and give them a tickle you will never forget!"
"You can do the prep work," she told Gretel grimly, "then maybe I'll let you tickle him too!" As luck would have it, the witch had very bad eyesight, and so she let Gretel smear the butter all over Hansel’s feet and hold his feet in place while the witch tickled them without mercy.
"Let me feel your footsies!" said the witch to Hansel every day to check if he was getting any more ticklish. Now, Gretel, jealous of the fact that she was denied acess to her boyfriend's feet, had brought Hansel a chicken bone, and every time the witch went to touch his toe, Hansel held out the bone.
"You're still not ticklish enough!" she complained. When will you finally beg for mercy?" One day the witch grew tired of waiting.
"Fetch the tickling potion from the basement under my cottage," she told Gretel. "We're going to have a young man's tasty feet in tickling agony today!"
Gretel, who very much wanted Hansel’s feet for herself, replied smartly: "I can't tell one potion from the other."
Angrily, the witch screamed at the girl: "Useless thing! All right, I'll see for myself."
But when the witch bent down to peer inside the basement and check the potion, Gretel gave her a tremendous push and slammed the door shut. The witch had broken her neck and thus come to a fit and proper end.
Gretel, however, did not run to set her lover free because she quite liked to have Hansel's captured feet at her own mercy.
Indeed, just to be on the safe side, she made Hansel stick his feet through the bars of his cage and fastened his ankles firmly with a large padlock. Then they stayed for several days so that Gretel could eat some more icing from the house off from Hansel’s feet, till she discovered amongst the witch's belongings many other instruments with which she could torment Hansel’s soles in ever new ways.
"The witch is now dead," said Gretel, "and there is also no one else in this forest who could hear you wiggle and scream, so I'll go over your feet until I’ve stilled my hunger." She filled a large basket with chocolate, feathers, and hair brushes, and every day set off into the forest to search for more ways to tickle torture Hansel’s feet to her heart's desire. This time, luck was with her, and by the second day, she saw that her lover was weeping in agony. If he complained or struggled against his restraints too much, she intermittently beat the soles of his feet with a switch until they were nice and red.
"Promise you'll never ever let another woman tickle your feet," said Gretel one day, raking her fingers all over Hansel’s sweaty soles. After Hansel promised, she opened the cage and they left the glade, Hansel all spent and barely able to walk on his tender soles.
And they lived happily together ever after.
When dawn broke, the lovers started to wander about the forest, seeking a path, but all hope soon faded. They were well and truly lost. On they walked and walked, till suddenly they came upon a strange cottage in the middle of a glade.
"This is chocolate!" gasped Hansel as he broke a lump of plaster from the wall.
"And this is icing!" exclaimed Gretel, taking Hansel’s bare foot, spreading the sticky paste all over it, crumbling pieces of gingerbread all over, and then putting his big sticky toe in her mouth. Starving but delighted, she began to eat the pieces of candy broken off the cottage from Hansel’s foot.
"Isn't this delicious?" said Gretel, with her mouth full. She had never tasted anything so nice.
"We'll stay here," Hansel moaned in delight as his girlfriend flicked her tongue across his sole, licking bits of nougat from between his toes. She was just about to lick clean the icing-covered arch of his foot when the door of the cottage quietly swung open.
"Well, well!" said a beautiful young woman, peering out with a crafty look. "And haven't you two lovers a sweet tooth?"
"Come in! Come in, you've nothing to fear!" went on the young woman, who was not much older than Gretel. Unluckily for Hansel and Gretel, however, the sugar candy cottage belonged to a witch, her trap for catching unwary tickle victims. The two lovers had come to a really nasty place.
"Your feet look rather ticklish!" said the witch, locking Hansel into a cage. We shall lock you up and give them a tickle you will never forget!"
"You can do the prep work," she told Gretel grimly, "then maybe I'll let you tickle him too!" As luck would have it, the witch had very bad eyesight, and so she let Gretel smear the butter all over Hansel’s feet and hold his feet in place while the witch tickled them without mercy.
"Let me feel your footsies!" said the witch to Hansel every day to check if he was getting any more ticklish. Now, Gretel, jealous of the fact that she was denied acess to her boyfriend's feet, had brought Hansel a chicken bone, and every time the witch went to touch his toe, Hansel held out the bone.
"You're still not ticklish enough!" she complained. When will you finally beg for mercy?" One day the witch grew tired of waiting.
"Fetch the tickling potion from the basement under my cottage," she told Gretel. "We're going to have a young man's tasty feet in tickling agony today!"
Gretel, who very much wanted Hansel’s feet for herself, replied smartly: "I can't tell one potion from the other."
Angrily, the witch screamed at the girl: "Useless thing! All right, I'll see for myself."
But when the witch bent down to peer inside the basement and check the potion, Gretel gave her a tremendous push and slammed the door shut. The witch had broken her neck and thus come to a fit and proper end.
Gretel, however, did not run to set her lover free because she quite liked to have Hansel's captured feet at her own mercy.
Indeed, just to be on the safe side, she made Hansel stick his feet through the bars of his cage and fastened his ankles firmly with a large padlock. Then they stayed for several days so that Gretel could eat some more icing from the house off from Hansel’s feet, till she discovered amongst the witch's belongings many other instruments with which she could torment Hansel’s soles in ever new ways.
"The witch is now dead," said Gretel, "and there is also no one else in this forest who could hear you wiggle and scream, so I'll go over your feet until I’ve stilled my hunger." She filled a large basket with chocolate, feathers, and hair brushes, and every day set off into the forest to search for more ways to tickle torture Hansel’s feet to her heart's desire. This time, luck was with her, and by the second day, she saw that her lover was weeping in agony. If he complained or struggled against his restraints too much, she intermittently beat the soles of his feet with a switch until they were nice and red.
"Promise you'll never ever let another woman tickle your feet," said Gretel one day, raking her fingers all over Hansel’s sweaty soles. After Hansel promised, she opened the cage and they left the glade, Hansel all spent and barely able to walk on his tender soles.
And they lived happily together ever after.
