See Jane Laugh! Laugh Jane, Laugh!
(The Legend of Tarzan)
by J-dark
Note: Yes, another Disney-inspired story. Jane Porter, and Tarzan
are technically the property of... uhm... well, I can't remember
the guy that wrote Tarzan the Ape Man... but Disney borrowed the
idea from him... so I'm borrowing the idea from THEM for this little
story.
-------------------
Jane Porter sighed, enjoying the rare moment of peace in her jungle treetop paradise.
Tarzan and the group were out exploring some new ruins that Turk had discovered,
and her father was out on the other side of the river, gathering plant specimens,
likely to be gone for the rest of the day. The only sounds reaching her were the
soft gentle rustling of the wind through the leaves, and the occasional titter of
far off birds passing overhead.
"Mmmm... heavenly," she purred, drinking deeply from a cup of tea. "Sometimes a
girl just needs time alone to unwind."
A rustle of leaves caught her attention. Turning, she saw none other than the dark
haired Frenchman, Renoit DuMont, peering up at her, with several of his lackeys
behind. Frowning, Jane slipped out of her hammock, and mimicing her husband Tarzan,
tree-surfed along the moss covered trees down to the ground below.
"Mr. DuMont," she said with disable disdain. "To what do I owe the... displeasure?"
"Ah, Jane, dear sweet Jane," the Frenchman chuckled, "your wit is as razor sharp as
ever. Ah, my companions and I just happened to be trekking through the jungle, in
your neck of the woods, so to speak, and I thought I would stop by to be social, to
say hello, and all." Glancing around, he frowned. "Tell me, dear, where is that overgrown
behemoth you call a husband? I'd hoped to run into him along the way."
"I'm afraid you're too late, DuMont. Turk discovered the ruins of an ancient city back
deep in the jungle, and Tarzan and the others went along to see it. Daddy is off
collecting plant samples, and won't be back until tomorrow. Sorry. It looks like you'll
have to settle for just me."
"Blast!" DuMont growled, slamming his rifle down on the ground, startling Jane. Sighing,
the Frenchman gathered his wits. "Okay. Fine. I'd hoped to catch up with Tarzan and his
little group before they left. You see, there are a couple of local legends about a city
hidden deep within the jungle, swallowed up by time and the underbrush. It's said that
this city holds a secret treasure, a humongous ruby. When your addle-brained father
mentioned in passing that one of Tarzan's little ape friends had discovered a city, I
knew I had to convince Tarzan to let me come along with him... or, barring that, follow
discretely behind him to learn of its location."
Jane crossed her arms. "Well, how unfortunate for you that they've already gone. They
left several hours ago, and you virtually no chance of catching up to them."
"Geez, Mr. Dumont," one of the soldiers said. "What are we gonna do now? How are we
gonna get the rock without a guide to the city?"
"Simple, mon ami, simple," DuMont said, nonplussed, walking over to Jane, wtirling his
long black moustache. "Young Miss Porter here will tell us... won't you, Jane dear?"
"What?" Jane said, backing up a step. "Certainly not! I have no idea where the city is.
I haven't been there. I don't even recall which direction Tarzan left from when he and
the others departed." Tossing up her nose, she added, "And even if I did, I most certainly
wouldn't tell YOU where they went!"
DuMont shook his head. "I see. Jane, my dear, you wound me deeply. Is this any way to
treat an old dear friend?"
"You are hardly a dear old friend," Jane snapped back.
Nodding to his men, DuMont turned away, taking a small white handkerchief from his shirt,
and a small clear bottle. "Very well, Jane. I tried to be civil about this. As a true
gentleman, I had no choice but to try and appeal to your sense of civiltry and humanity."
Whirling around, he brought the chloroform doused rag to Jane's face, covering her nose
and mouth. "But, as a businessman," he added, holding tightly to the struggling woman, "I
think more persuasive measure must be used." He held Jane tightly until her struggles
ceased completely and she went limp in his arms.
"She's out. Good. You two, I want you to keep a lookout, in case Tarzan decides to head
back here for some reason. You two, help me get our Miss Porter back up to her treehouse.
I think we need to help her get settled in so that we can go about persuading her to help
us."
"Do you really think you can convince her to tell us where Tarzan went, Mr. DuMont?"
The Frenchman smiled evilly, removing a long thin flamingo feather from his coat. "Why
yes, actually," he replied. "In fact, I think dear Jane will be just tickled pink to
help us."
<hr>
"Whhhaaaaa...?"
Jane came to slowly, in stages, as if her body and mind were slowly floating up to the
surface after being submerged. Her eyes fluttered open, but it took several more moments
before her brain woke up enough to recognize what she was seeing. The blurry images above
her slowly reformed and resolved themselves back into the smiling face of Renoit DuMont.
"Wakey, Wakey, Jane," he said softly, grinning.
"DuMont!" Jane gasped, coming fully awake as she remembered what had happened. She sat
up... or TRIED to. Her arms and legs refused to move, being bound tightly to the bed
by thick strong vines. She pulled and twisted as much as possible, but it was no good.
She was tied down tight.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded angrily. "Of all the nerve! Let me up this
instant, or believe me, there will be hell to pay!"
"Quiet, my dear!" DuMont growled, leaning over her menacingly. "You are in no position
to demand anything! I, however, am in a position to demands... anything."
Jane fumed. "You won't get away with this. When Tarzan gets back, he'll---"
"When Tarzan gets back, my dear, we will be long gone. Rest assured, my dear, I have no
intention of hurting you. It would go againt my gentleman's code." Jane scoffed at his
words, and he added, "Alright, I wouldn't harm you, because you hulking brute Tarzan
would track me down and skin me alive. Either way, you're perfectly safe. You're just
restrained so we can have a little discussion."
Jane turned her head away. "I have NOTHING I wish to discuss with you. Untie me and leave!"
"Now, now, Jane, you know perfectly well what we have to talk about. I want to know where
Tarzan went. I want to know how to get to the hidden temple, and I want YOU to tell me."
Silence was Jane's only reply. "Very well then. I believe I shall have to... persuade you
to tell me what I want to know. Gentlemen, if you please?" At his word, two of his men
moved to Jane's sides, and knelt next to the bed, their hands raised. DuMont himself
went to the foot of the bed, grinning down at Jane.
Panic flooded her. She didn't know what the men had planned for her but she knew somehow
that it would bode her no good. "Wha... Ahem... what are you going to do to me?" she
asked, trying to shake the slight tremor in her voice.
"I'm afraid, dear Jane, that we know your secret. Your dear father, the addle-brained
fool, does so love to talk about his daughter. For instance, he mentioned your eighth
birthday party, and the nice time you had when you hid in the back of the truck with
the animals being prepared to be shipped out the next day." Jane's eyes widened as
DuMont produced a feather. "They discovered you sometime later, after you'd gotten all
tangled up in the nets like a mummy. Your left shoe had fallen off, and one of the baby
calfs were licking the sweaty salty sole of your foot." He waved the feather deftly back
and forth, like a small miniture sword, while Jane, toes wiggling helplessly, watched
in fear. "Your father said they heard you screaming like a banshee, thrashing like a
madwoman. Even after they untied you, and you scrambled down out of the truck, you
laughed and laughed, rubbing your poor tickled foot for nearly half an hour before you
calmed down." He shook his head. "Sounds to me like someone is extremely, incredibly
ticklish on their feet."
"NO! NO! DuMont! You can't do this! NO! PLEASE!" she begged, flexing her helpless feet,
her deep wrinkled soles stretching and crinkling reflexively as the feather danced just
inches away. "I don't know where Tarzan went! Please! You must believe me! Honest! I
don't know!"
"Well, my dear, I do not believe you," DuMont replied, lowering the feather until the
soft pink fronds came in contact with the ticklish flesh. Jane screamed, tensing up,
trying to pull her helpless ticklish soles away. Her feet, already ticklish despite the
several months of walking around barefoot in the jungle, seemed even more sensitive
than usual. DuMont, seeing her expression, calmly explained.
"Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention," he said casually, as he grabbed her big toe and held it
tightly, spreading her toes apart. "While you were out cold, I took the liberty of doing
something about your feet. Really, Jane! I know you live among savages, and all, but a
proper lady takes care of her feet! I had the men thoroughly wash away the dirt and filth,
and they pumiced and pedicured your feet until they were smooth and soft as a baby's
bottom. Unfortunately for you, they also made your feet about twice as sensitive as they
were before. Oh well... guess you'll just have to live with it."
"NNNOOOOOO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Nnononononononoo EEEK!! Staaaahhhpp that! Staahhap
iiittt!! Hahahahahahahahahaha... hhehehehehehe... oohhh my, it tiiccklesss!! Hehehehe
hahahahahahaha... ohh ohh ohh ohh ohh hahahahahahahahaha," Jane laughed, twisting and
turning, her body thrashing helplessly, unable to stand the evil feather stroking her
soft soles. DuMont's fingers teased and tickled her pudgy little toes, while the feather
ran rampant up and down her sole, across her arch, even along the tanned tops of her
bare feet. Everywhere seemed ticklish, and tears streamed down her cheeks as the tickling
forced gale after gale of steady incessant laughter from her.
"Poor, poor Jane," DuMont chided, working over the soft pink soles before him. "If only
you'd cooperated with me, we could have avoided all this. Now, you'll just have to lie
there and take it. Laugh for me, Jane. That's it! Yes, just like that. Laugh, Jane!
Laugh!" He wiggled his fingers in between her toes, and flicked his short trimmed nails
against the pale sensitive flesh, forcing her laughter into hysterical screams again.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! NOO! NO! NO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! NOT MY
TOES! NO NOT THERE! ANYWHERE BUT EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!! ANYWHERE BUT
THERE!! NOOOOOOO!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO! EEEEEEEEEEE!"
"That really is a bad spot for you, isn't it Jane?" DuMont asked, blithely curious. "I
wonder if we'll get as good a reason between your toes if I use the feather." Slipping
the flamingo feather between her second and third toes, DuMont began sawing it gently
back and forth. Jane's response increased, and she began bouncing wildly on the bed,
smalling her small cute butt repeatedly against the makeshift mattress. "Ah, I'd say
we've hit the jackpot," DuMont mused.
The toe tittilation continued for several more minutes until Jane, exhausted, barely
able to breath let along laugh, swooned. A snap of his fingers, and DuMont's men slipped
a bottle of smelling salts under the exhausted girl's nose. Her respite taken away, Jane
burst once again into low, raspy laughter, even though the tickling had, for the moment,
ceased.
"No... more... please... beg... you... stop... no... more..." Jane managed, gasping with
her dry scratchy throat.
"Very well. I'm glad you've decided to be reasonable." DuMont lowered his feather. "Now
then, where did they go?"
"I... don't... know..." Jane said hollowly.
DuMont scowled, and bent down to retrieve his feather. Frightened, Jane somehow found the
strength to quickly add, "But I... know... which way... they were... going..."
DuMont's hand stilled. "Alright. I'm listening."
Jane closed her eyes. She vaguely remembered Turk saying that she had found something
northwest of the camp, near the waterfall. She didn't recall how far, or where the trail
was EXACTLY, but even now, under torture, she wasn't about to let DuMont get the better
of her, and certainly not of Tarzan. "They... went... south... southeast... along the...
river..." she said, panting deeply, the tickle-forced smile still etched on her face.
"That's it?" DuMont said, unconvinced. "Just Southeast, along the river? Do you realize
how big this blasted jungle is? We need more to go on."
"I told... you... I don't know... exactly..." Jane said, with a slight heat. "I have...
never been there." She was beginning to catch her breath and recover her strength.
"Well then, my dear, perhaps it would help if we jogged your memory a bit, to see if
you recall something else. Men, get ready, please." Jane's eyes widened in fear.
"NO! NO! YOU CAN'T! I TOLD YOU!! PLEASE! DUMONT! DON'T DO THIS!"
The soldiers, tired of waiting, moved into position. As one, DuMont and his two lackeys
began an all-out tickle assault on the helpless Jane. Rough hands dug into her sides,
into the hollows of her underarms, tweaked and teased her nipples and her breasts through
her blouse, and wormed their way under the fabric to poke and tease her flat tummy. But
the absolute worst was DuMont! Back at her weakest point, her feet, the clever Frenchman
was using his mouth to suck and nibble on Jane's pudgy pink toes, sending exciting chills
and jolts of unwanted pleasure up through her legs straight into her brain.
"AHAHAHHAHHAHANONONONONONONOAAAAAEEEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHNONONONONONMMMMMMMMMMMOOHHHHAAHAHA!!"
Jane babbled nonsensically as her brain overloaded on sensation. Her surroundings vanished
as she descended into tickle madness. Everything around her faded into a soft white light...
<hr>
"Jane?"
Jane blinked. Her head hurt. Her throat hurt. Her sides ached. In short, she felt as if
she'd taken the charge of a full herd of rhino in the chest and somehow lived to tell
the tale.
"Jane? Are you alright?"
Turning her head slightly, Jane saw the owner of the voice. Standing over her, worry and
concern etched on his rugged handsome face, Tarzan stared down into his beloved's eyes.
Tarzan. He was here.
"Ohhhh... Tarzan," Jane croaked hoarsely, sitting up to clutch him and pull him near.
"I can't believe you're here. Oh thank goodness. Thank goodness."
"Shhh. It's okay, Jane," the jungle lord said softly. "DuMont and his men have left. They
will not be troubling you again."
Jane breathed a deep sigh of relief at that. "They... they tortured me," she said softly.
"I know. Tantaur heard your laughter all the way out at the ruins. Knowing something was
wrong, I hurred back as fast as I could. I fought with DuMont's sentries, and when he
saw they were defeated, he turned tail and ran."
"Good. I only wish I had been able to see it," Jane murmured softly. "So... did you
find what you were after? Did you get to see the ruins?"
"Yes. It was a... strange place. Not like a gorilla nest, or a human town. Different. But
interesting."
Jane sighed softly. "I'm sorry you had to leave and come all the way back here to save me.
DuMont said a legendary treasure rests in that ruined city. I pulled you away from it."
Tarzan smiled, hugging her tight to him. "That's okay. I have you, Jane, alive and well.
You are all the treasure I seek."
((END.))
(The Legend of Tarzan)
by J-dark
Note: Yes, another Disney-inspired story. Jane Porter, and Tarzan
are technically the property of... uhm... well, I can't remember
the guy that wrote Tarzan the Ape Man... but Disney borrowed the
idea from him... so I'm borrowing the idea from THEM for this little
story.
-------------------
Jane Porter sighed, enjoying the rare moment of peace in her jungle treetop paradise.
Tarzan and the group were out exploring some new ruins that Turk had discovered,
and her father was out on the other side of the river, gathering plant specimens,
likely to be gone for the rest of the day. The only sounds reaching her were the
soft gentle rustling of the wind through the leaves, and the occasional titter of
far off birds passing overhead.
"Mmmm... heavenly," she purred, drinking deeply from a cup of tea. "Sometimes a
girl just needs time alone to unwind."
A rustle of leaves caught her attention. Turning, she saw none other than the dark
haired Frenchman, Renoit DuMont, peering up at her, with several of his lackeys
behind. Frowning, Jane slipped out of her hammock, and mimicing her husband Tarzan,
tree-surfed along the moss covered trees down to the ground below.
"Mr. DuMont," she said with disable disdain. "To what do I owe the... displeasure?"
"Ah, Jane, dear sweet Jane," the Frenchman chuckled, "your wit is as razor sharp as
ever. Ah, my companions and I just happened to be trekking through the jungle, in
your neck of the woods, so to speak, and I thought I would stop by to be social, to
say hello, and all." Glancing around, he frowned. "Tell me, dear, where is that overgrown
behemoth you call a husband? I'd hoped to run into him along the way."
"I'm afraid you're too late, DuMont. Turk discovered the ruins of an ancient city back
deep in the jungle, and Tarzan and the others went along to see it. Daddy is off
collecting plant samples, and won't be back until tomorrow. Sorry. It looks like you'll
have to settle for just me."
"Blast!" DuMont growled, slamming his rifle down on the ground, startling Jane. Sighing,
the Frenchman gathered his wits. "Okay. Fine. I'd hoped to catch up with Tarzan and his
little group before they left. You see, there are a couple of local legends about a city
hidden deep within the jungle, swallowed up by time and the underbrush. It's said that
this city holds a secret treasure, a humongous ruby. When your addle-brained father
mentioned in passing that one of Tarzan's little ape friends had discovered a city, I
knew I had to convince Tarzan to let me come along with him... or, barring that, follow
discretely behind him to learn of its location."
Jane crossed her arms. "Well, how unfortunate for you that they've already gone. They
left several hours ago, and you virtually no chance of catching up to them."
"Geez, Mr. Dumont," one of the soldiers said. "What are we gonna do now? How are we
gonna get the rock without a guide to the city?"
"Simple, mon ami, simple," DuMont said, nonplussed, walking over to Jane, wtirling his
long black moustache. "Young Miss Porter here will tell us... won't you, Jane dear?"
"What?" Jane said, backing up a step. "Certainly not! I have no idea where the city is.
I haven't been there. I don't even recall which direction Tarzan left from when he and
the others departed." Tossing up her nose, she added, "And even if I did, I most certainly
wouldn't tell YOU where they went!"
DuMont shook his head. "I see. Jane, my dear, you wound me deeply. Is this any way to
treat an old dear friend?"
"You are hardly a dear old friend," Jane snapped back.
Nodding to his men, DuMont turned away, taking a small white handkerchief from his shirt,
and a small clear bottle. "Very well, Jane. I tried to be civil about this. As a true
gentleman, I had no choice but to try and appeal to your sense of civiltry and humanity."
Whirling around, he brought the chloroform doused rag to Jane's face, covering her nose
and mouth. "But, as a businessman," he added, holding tightly to the struggling woman, "I
think more persuasive measure must be used." He held Jane tightly until her struggles
ceased completely and she went limp in his arms.
"She's out. Good. You two, I want you to keep a lookout, in case Tarzan decides to head
back here for some reason. You two, help me get our Miss Porter back up to her treehouse.
I think we need to help her get settled in so that we can go about persuading her to help
us."
"Do you really think you can convince her to tell us where Tarzan went, Mr. DuMont?"
The Frenchman smiled evilly, removing a long thin flamingo feather from his coat. "Why
yes, actually," he replied. "In fact, I think dear Jane will be just tickled pink to
help us."
<hr>
"Whhhaaaaa...?"
Jane came to slowly, in stages, as if her body and mind were slowly floating up to the
surface after being submerged. Her eyes fluttered open, but it took several more moments
before her brain woke up enough to recognize what she was seeing. The blurry images above
her slowly reformed and resolved themselves back into the smiling face of Renoit DuMont.
"Wakey, Wakey, Jane," he said softly, grinning.
"DuMont!" Jane gasped, coming fully awake as she remembered what had happened. She sat
up... or TRIED to. Her arms and legs refused to move, being bound tightly to the bed
by thick strong vines. She pulled and twisted as much as possible, but it was no good.
She was tied down tight.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded angrily. "Of all the nerve! Let me up this
instant, or believe me, there will be hell to pay!"
"Quiet, my dear!" DuMont growled, leaning over her menacingly. "You are in no position
to demand anything! I, however, am in a position to demands... anything."
Jane fumed. "You won't get away with this. When Tarzan gets back, he'll---"
"When Tarzan gets back, my dear, we will be long gone. Rest assured, my dear, I have no
intention of hurting you. It would go againt my gentleman's code." Jane scoffed at his
words, and he added, "Alright, I wouldn't harm you, because you hulking brute Tarzan
would track me down and skin me alive. Either way, you're perfectly safe. You're just
restrained so we can have a little discussion."
Jane turned her head away. "I have NOTHING I wish to discuss with you. Untie me and leave!"
"Now, now, Jane, you know perfectly well what we have to talk about. I want to know where
Tarzan went. I want to know how to get to the hidden temple, and I want YOU to tell me."
Silence was Jane's only reply. "Very well then. I believe I shall have to... persuade you
to tell me what I want to know. Gentlemen, if you please?" At his word, two of his men
moved to Jane's sides, and knelt next to the bed, their hands raised. DuMont himself
went to the foot of the bed, grinning down at Jane.
Panic flooded her. She didn't know what the men had planned for her but she knew somehow
that it would bode her no good. "Wha... Ahem... what are you going to do to me?" she
asked, trying to shake the slight tremor in her voice.
"I'm afraid, dear Jane, that we know your secret. Your dear father, the addle-brained
fool, does so love to talk about his daughter. For instance, he mentioned your eighth
birthday party, and the nice time you had when you hid in the back of the truck with
the animals being prepared to be shipped out the next day." Jane's eyes widened as
DuMont produced a feather. "They discovered you sometime later, after you'd gotten all
tangled up in the nets like a mummy. Your left shoe had fallen off, and one of the baby
calfs were licking the sweaty salty sole of your foot." He waved the feather deftly back
and forth, like a small miniture sword, while Jane, toes wiggling helplessly, watched
in fear. "Your father said they heard you screaming like a banshee, thrashing like a
madwoman. Even after they untied you, and you scrambled down out of the truck, you
laughed and laughed, rubbing your poor tickled foot for nearly half an hour before you
calmed down." He shook his head. "Sounds to me like someone is extremely, incredibly
ticklish on their feet."
"NO! NO! DuMont! You can't do this! NO! PLEASE!" she begged, flexing her helpless feet,
her deep wrinkled soles stretching and crinkling reflexively as the feather danced just
inches away. "I don't know where Tarzan went! Please! You must believe me! Honest! I
don't know!"
"Well, my dear, I do not believe you," DuMont replied, lowering the feather until the
soft pink fronds came in contact with the ticklish flesh. Jane screamed, tensing up,
trying to pull her helpless ticklish soles away. Her feet, already ticklish despite the
several months of walking around barefoot in the jungle, seemed even more sensitive
than usual. DuMont, seeing her expression, calmly explained.
"Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention," he said casually, as he grabbed her big toe and held it
tightly, spreading her toes apart. "While you were out cold, I took the liberty of doing
something about your feet. Really, Jane! I know you live among savages, and all, but a
proper lady takes care of her feet! I had the men thoroughly wash away the dirt and filth,
and they pumiced and pedicured your feet until they were smooth and soft as a baby's
bottom. Unfortunately for you, they also made your feet about twice as sensitive as they
were before. Oh well... guess you'll just have to live with it."
"NNNOOOOOO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Nnononononononoo EEEK!! Staaaahhhpp that! Staahhap
iiittt!! Hahahahahahahahahaha... hhehehehehehe... oohhh my, it tiiccklesss!! Hehehehe
hahahahahahaha... ohh ohh ohh ohh ohh hahahahahahahahaha," Jane laughed, twisting and
turning, her body thrashing helplessly, unable to stand the evil feather stroking her
soft soles. DuMont's fingers teased and tickled her pudgy little toes, while the feather
ran rampant up and down her sole, across her arch, even along the tanned tops of her
bare feet. Everywhere seemed ticklish, and tears streamed down her cheeks as the tickling
forced gale after gale of steady incessant laughter from her.
"Poor, poor Jane," DuMont chided, working over the soft pink soles before him. "If only
you'd cooperated with me, we could have avoided all this. Now, you'll just have to lie
there and take it. Laugh for me, Jane. That's it! Yes, just like that. Laugh, Jane!
Laugh!" He wiggled his fingers in between her toes, and flicked his short trimmed nails
against the pale sensitive flesh, forcing her laughter into hysterical screams again.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! NOO! NO! NO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! NOT MY
TOES! NO NOT THERE! ANYWHERE BUT EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!! ANYWHERE BUT
THERE!! NOOOOOOO!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO! EEEEEEEEEEE!"
"That really is a bad spot for you, isn't it Jane?" DuMont asked, blithely curious. "I
wonder if we'll get as good a reason between your toes if I use the feather." Slipping
the flamingo feather between her second and third toes, DuMont began sawing it gently
back and forth. Jane's response increased, and she began bouncing wildly on the bed,
smalling her small cute butt repeatedly against the makeshift mattress. "Ah, I'd say
we've hit the jackpot," DuMont mused.
The toe tittilation continued for several more minutes until Jane, exhausted, barely
able to breath let along laugh, swooned. A snap of his fingers, and DuMont's men slipped
a bottle of smelling salts under the exhausted girl's nose. Her respite taken away, Jane
burst once again into low, raspy laughter, even though the tickling had, for the moment,
ceased.
"No... more... please... beg... you... stop... no... more..." Jane managed, gasping with
her dry scratchy throat.
"Very well. I'm glad you've decided to be reasonable." DuMont lowered his feather. "Now
then, where did they go?"
"I... don't... know..." Jane said hollowly.
DuMont scowled, and bent down to retrieve his feather. Frightened, Jane somehow found the
strength to quickly add, "But I... know... which way... they were... going..."
DuMont's hand stilled. "Alright. I'm listening."
Jane closed her eyes. She vaguely remembered Turk saying that she had found something
northwest of the camp, near the waterfall. She didn't recall how far, or where the trail
was EXACTLY, but even now, under torture, she wasn't about to let DuMont get the better
of her, and certainly not of Tarzan. "They... went... south... southeast... along the...
river..." she said, panting deeply, the tickle-forced smile still etched on her face.
"That's it?" DuMont said, unconvinced. "Just Southeast, along the river? Do you realize
how big this blasted jungle is? We need more to go on."
"I told... you... I don't know... exactly..." Jane said, with a slight heat. "I have...
never been there." She was beginning to catch her breath and recover her strength.
"Well then, my dear, perhaps it would help if we jogged your memory a bit, to see if
you recall something else. Men, get ready, please." Jane's eyes widened in fear.
"NO! NO! YOU CAN'T! I TOLD YOU!! PLEASE! DUMONT! DON'T DO THIS!"
The soldiers, tired of waiting, moved into position. As one, DuMont and his two lackeys
began an all-out tickle assault on the helpless Jane. Rough hands dug into her sides,
into the hollows of her underarms, tweaked and teased her nipples and her breasts through
her blouse, and wormed their way under the fabric to poke and tease her flat tummy. But
the absolute worst was DuMont! Back at her weakest point, her feet, the clever Frenchman
was using his mouth to suck and nibble on Jane's pudgy pink toes, sending exciting chills
and jolts of unwanted pleasure up through her legs straight into her brain.
"AHAHAHHAHHAHANONONONONONONOAAAAAEEEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHNONONONONONMMMMMMMMMMMOOHHHHAAHAHA!!"
Jane babbled nonsensically as her brain overloaded on sensation. Her surroundings vanished
as she descended into tickle madness. Everything around her faded into a soft white light...
<hr>
"Jane?"
Jane blinked. Her head hurt. Her throat hurt. Her sides ached. In short, she felt as if
she'd taken the charge of a full herd of rhino in the chest and somehow lived to tell
the tale.
"Jane? Are you alright?"
Turning her head slightly, Jane saw the owner of the voice. Standing over her, worry and
concern etched on his rugged handsome face, Tarzan stared down into his beloved's eyes.
Tarzan. He was here.
"Ohhhh... Tarzan," Jane croaked hoarsely, sitting up to clutch him and pull him near.
"I can't believe you're here. Oh thank goodness. Thank goodness."
"Shhh. It's okay, Jane," the jungle lord said softly. "DuMont and his men have left. They
will not be troubling you again."
Jane breathed a deep sigh of relief at that. "They... they tortured me," she said softly.
"I know. Tantaur heard your laughter all the way out at the ruins. Knowing something was
wrong, I hurred back as fast as I could. I fought with DuMont's sentries, and when he
saw they were defeated, he turned tail and ran."
"Good. I only wish I had been able to see it," Jane murmured softly. "So... did you
find what you were after? Did you get to see the ruins?"
"Yes. It was a... strange place. Not like a gorilla nest, or a human town. Different. But
interesting."
Jane sighed softly. "I'm sorry you had to leave and come all the way back here to save me.
DuMont said a legendary treasure rests in that ruined city. I pulled you away from it."
Tarzan smiled, hugging her tight to him. "That's okay. I have you, Jane, alive and well.
You are all the treasure I seek."
((END.))
