This is my prologue to the groovy age of horror and in particular the Euro horror flicks of the early 1970s, with a tickling bias of course...
Severine admired her hands, turning them this way and that. They were strong and elegant. Her fingernails were lacquered a deep crimson and carefully manicured. They needed to be just right.
A low moan from across the room signalled the slow return to consciousness of her latest guest. The statuesque blonde rose from her chair with a feline grace. She wore a long sleeve black velvet dress with a plunging neckline and a hem that stopped just above the knee. The heels of her long black boots clicked on flagstone tiles.
Her guest was a young woman in a white nightdress. Her arms were shackled above her head and she was blindfolded with a black hood.
Severine whipped off the hood and enjoyed the look of confusion on the young woman’s face as chestnut locks cascaded around her shoulders.
“Hello Margot.”
Luminous brown eyes blinked back at her. “Severine? Is that you? What’s going on? What’s happening?”
Severine shook her head and smiled. “So many questions. The question you should be asking is why are you here?”
Margot looked around in agitation. They appeared to be in some kind of chamber with stone walls. It was a macabre place with flickering torches casting shadows.
“Oh God, what is this place?” She wailed.
“This is a secret chamber below the mansion. Don’t worry, we have absolute privacy down here.”
“What am I doing down here?”
“Do you think I don’t know about your affair with my husband?” Severine asked, ignoring the question.
Margot’s head snapped round. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t try to deny it.” Severine snapped angrily, “I know you were one of his little whores and I am sure you had a lot of fun, laughing at me behind my back.”
“Perhaps if you gave him what he needs, he wouldn’t need to look elsewhere.” Margot spat with sudden indignation.
“Needed. Past tense.” Severine replied with a chilly smile. She ran her hands down her body. “Do you like my black dress? After all, black is the colour of mourning.”
“Hugo’s dead?” Margot said in disbelief.
“Wrapped his sports car around a tree. It seems the brakes failed, such a tragic accident.” She cackled mirthlessly.
“Oh God, you killed him.” Margot trembled. “And now you mean to kill me too.”
Severine laughed at that. “Kill you? Oh you silly girl, I have something far more delicious in mind for you. I am going to tickle you.”
Margot decided Severine had gone insane; her suggestion was absurd. “You’re going to tickle me? OK then.”
“Oh I’m sure you’ve been tickled before but have you ever endured it for days and days, relentlessly, until you can’t breathe and you pass out and then when you wake up it starts all over again.” She paused to let that sink in before continuing.
“In ancient China, tickling was used as a method of torture and punishment for adultery. Some women went insane, some died. I plan to coax endless tortured laughter from your pretty little body. I promise that you will beg for mercy and that you will receive none.”
Margot began to whimper.
The heavy timber door creaked open and the tall cadaverous form of Hextor entered. The butler’s. His skin had an unhealthy pallor and he was bald except for wispy wings of black hair brushed back over his ears.
“Ah Hextor, this is our new guest, Margot. What do you think of her?”
“She’s ripe, Madam. Ripe for plucking.” The butler leered.
Margot shuddered. It was almost as if Hextor’s stare could penetrate her flimsy nightgown.
Severine cackled at Margot’s look of distress. “Hextor is a most tireless and thorough assistant. I spent several pleasant hours yesterday watching him work on the Fournier girl, another of my husband’s little conquests. I don’t think she even remembers her own name anymore.”
Margot whimpered in horror and pulled at her shackles.
An elfin redhead had followed Hextor into the dungeon. She giggled with impish glee at Margot’s plight.
“And of you course, you know my faithful assistant Erica.” Severine continued. “Good help is hard to find.”
“I brought your tools.” Erica said, handing Severine a black leather case. “I replaced all the oils and the sable hair brushes. We ruined the last ones on Miss DeFalco’s soles.”
“You’re all insane. You’re mad, all of you.” Margot said with rising hysteria.
“Hextor, Erica, you may leave now. I want to be alone with Margot.”
“As you wish, Madam.” Hextor droned with a low bow and then he and Erica left the chamber.
Severine took a moment to appraise her captive. “I can see why my husband was attracted to you. You are quite beautiful and I am sure that skin is oh-so sensitive too.”
Severine advanced on Margot and took immense pleasure in making little clawing motions with her fingers as they advanced on the quivering brunette’s exposed underarms.
“I’m sorry Severine, I never meant it to happen.” Margot blurted. “He seduced me, I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help it. Please let me go. Don’t do this.”
The first touch, the supple resistance of the flesh was exquisite and Severine groaned with pleasure before letting out a throaty laugh. She would enjoy this.
Margot had an anguished look on her face and her wrists clanked in their chains as she sought to evade the probing digits of her captor. Something like panic washed over her and her nerve endings screamed.
“Come now,” Severine whispered, “you used to laugh behind my back as you enjoyed my husband. Now you can laugh to my face.”
“No, please.” Margot gasped. A soft poke in the centre of her underarm followed by a vigorous stroking motion broke down her defences and she let out a shriek of pained laughter.
“Stop, I’m sorry, I’m, so sorry.” She pleaded. The slender muscles on her arms stood out as she pulled at her chains.
Severine slipped an arm around the young woman’s waist and held her tightly as she tickled her armpit. “Oh you should have thought of that before you shared your bed with my husband. You’ve had your fun and now I will have mine.”
Margot had never experienced tickling like it. She was mocked and teased and her horribly sensitive underarms were tickled mercilessly. By the time Severine finally allowed her a break, she was already a gibbering wreck.
Severine smiled at her handiwork. “Such lovely soft skin but I know there is so much more to play with.” She reached up to Margot’s shoulders and ripped her nightdress in half, the ruined garment slid down her body and pooled at her feet, leaving her naked.
“What a lovely body you have, my dear.” Severine said, her eyes gleaming with hunger. “I think you’d look good with some oil and later on I’ll have Hextor put you on the rack.”
“No. Please.” The terrified young woman shrieked.
Severine unsnapped her case of tools and selected a jar of oil. “I think we’ll start with this. It makes the skin so much more sensitive.
The sounds of Margot’s laughter were mangled by the weird acoustics of the underground passages and floated up eerily across the wetlands surrounding the mansion. It would be dawn before they subsided.
To be continued...
Severine admired her hands, turning them this way and that. They were strong and elegant. Her fingernails were lacquered a deep crimson and carefully manicured. They needed to be just right.
A low moan from across the room signalled the slow return to consciousness of her latest guest. The statuesque blonde rose from her chair with a feline grace. She wore a long sleeve black velvet dress with a plunging neckline and a hem that stopped just above the knee. The heels of her long black boots clicked on flagstone tiles.
Her guest was a young woman in a white nightdress. Her arms were shackled above her head and she was blindfolded with a black hood.
Severine whipped off the hood and enjoyed the look of confusion on the young woman’s face as chestnut locks cascaded around her shoulders.
“Hello Margot.”
Luminous brown eyes blinked back at her. “Severine? Is that you? What’s going on? What’s happening?”
Severine shook her head and smiled. “So many questions. The question you should be asking is why are you here?”
Margot looked around in agitation. They appeared to be in some kind of chamber with stone walls. It was a macabre place with flickering torches casting shadows.
“Oh God, what is this place?” She wailed.
“This is a secret chamber below the mansion. Don’t worry, we have absolute privacy down here.”
“What am I doing down here?”
“Do you think I don’t know about your affair with my husband?” Severine asked, ignoring the question.
Margot’s head snapped round. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t try to deny it.” Severine snapped angrily, “I know you were one of his little whores and I am sure you had a lot of fun, laughing at me behind my back.”
“Perhaps if you gave him what he needs, he wouldn’t need to look elsewhere.” Margot spat with sudden indignation.
“Needed. Past tense.” Severine replied with a chilly smile. She ran her hands down her body. “Do you like my black dress? After all, black is the colour of mourning.”
“Hugo’s dead?” Margot said in disbelief.
“Wrapped his sports car around a tree. It seems the brakes failed, such a tragic accident.” She cackled mirthlessly.
“Oh God, you killed him.” Margot trembled. “And now you mean to kill me too.”
Severine laughed at that. “Kill you? Oh you silly girl, I have something far more delicious in mind for you. I am going to tickle you.”
Margot decided Severine had gone insane; her suggestion was absurd. “You’re going to tickle me? OK then.”
“Oh I’m sure you’ve been tickled before but have you ever endured it for days and days, relentlessly, until you can’t breathe and you pass out and then when you wake up it starts all over again.” She paused to let that sink in before continuing.
“In ancient China, tickling was used as a method of torture and punishment for adultery. Some women went insane, some died. I plan to coax endless tortured laughter from your pretty little body. I promise that you will beg for mercy and that you will receive none.”
Margot began to whimper.
The heavy timber door creaked open and the tall cadaverous form of Hextor entered. The butler’s. His skin had an unhealthy pallor and he was bald except for wispy wings of black hair brushed back over his ears.
“Ah Hextor, this is our new guest, Margot. What do you think of her?”
“She’s ripe, Madam. Ripe for plucking.” The butler leered.
Margot shuddered. It was almost as if Hextor’s stare could penetrate her flimsy nightgown.
Severine cackled at Margot’s look of distress. “Hextor is a most tireless and thorough assistant. I spent several pleasant hours yesterday watching him work on the Fournier girl, another of my husband’s little conquests. I don’t think she even remembers her own name anymore.”
Margot whimpered in horror and pulled at her shackles.
An elfin redhead had followed Hextor into the dungeon. She giggled with impish glee at Margot’s plight.
“And of you course, you know my faithful assistant Erica.” Severine continued. “Good help is hard to find.”
“I brought your tools.” Erica said, handing Severine a black leather case. “I replaced all the oils and the sable hair brushes. We ruined the last ones on Miss DeFalco’s soles.”
“You’re all insane. You’re mad, all of you.” Margot said with rising hysteria.
“Hextor, Erica, you may leave now. I want to be alone with Margot.”
“As you wish, Madam.” Hextor droned with a low bow and then he and Erica left the chamber.
Severine took a moment to appraise her captive. “I can see why my husband was attracted to you. You are quite beautiful and I am sure that skin is oh-so sensitive too.”
Severine advanced on Margot and took immense pleasure in making little clawing motions with her fingers as they advanced on the quivering brunette’s exposed underarms.
“I’m sorry Severine, I never meant it to happen.” Margot blurted. “He seduced me, I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help it. Please let me go. Don’t do this.”
The first touch, the supple resistance of the flesh was exquisite and Severine groaned with pleasure before letting out a throaty laugh. She would enjoy this.
Margot had an anguished look on her face and her wrists clanked in their chains as she sought to evade the probing digits of her captor. Something like panic washed over her and her nerve endings screamed.
“Come now,” Severine whispered, “you used to laugh behind my back as you enjoyed my husband. Now you can laugh to my face.”
“No, please.” Margot gasped. A soft poke in the centre of her underarm followed by a vigorous stroking motion broke down her defences and she let out a shriek of pained laughter.
“Stop, I’m sorry, I’m, so sorry.” She pleaded. The slender muscles on her arms stood out as she pulled at her chains.
Severine slipped an arm around the young woman’s waist and held her tightly as she tickled her armpit. “Oh you should have thought of that before you shared your bed with my husband. You’ve had your fun and now I will have mine.”
Margot had never experienced tickling like it. She was mocked and teased and her horribly sensitive underarms were tickled mercilessly. By the time Severine finally allowed her a break, she was already a gibbering wreck.
Severine smiled at her handiwork. “Such lovely soft skin but I know there is so much more to play with.” She reached up to Margot’s shoulders and ripped her nightdress in half, the ruined garment slid down her body and pooled at her feet, leaving her naked.
“What a lovely body you have, my dear.” Severine said, her eyes gleaming with hunger. “I think you’d look good with some oil and later on I’ll have Hextor put you on the rack.”
“No. Please.” The terrified young woman shrieked.
Severine unsnapped her case of tools and selected a jar of oil. “I think we’ll start with this. It makes the skin so much more sensitive.
The sounds of Margot’s laughter were mangled by the weird acoustics of the underground passages and floated up eerily across the wetlands surrounding the mansion. It would be dawn before they subsided.
To be continued...
