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The Tickler of Venice (m/f, implied f/f, Shakespeare fan fic)

Kid Indy

TMF Expert
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Oct 12, 2001
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This one goes out to Shakespeare nerds like me, though I hope that others can enjoy it as well. As usual, feedback is welcome!

Tickler of Venice (m/f)

by

Kid Indy

Claudio walked the Rialto with the confident steps of a man who had come into his own. Though there were showier dressers in Venice, nobody shared his air of command, the way that the people would look his way but never look him in the eye. In his early thirties, Claudio had inherited charge of his father's underground bank (loaning at interest was technically illegal, but then again, so was prostitution) almost ten years earlier, and he had over the ensuing decade established himself as one of the most formidable men in the booming city of Venice. He did not have many friends, but many feared him. Every face he passed on the street was someone who owed him a favor (and likely some ducats) or who relied on people who owned him favors (or ducats), and Claudio, though he seldom spoke directly of such things, always conducted his business from a position of control. Everyone who did business with him knew that they were dealing with a man who seldom lost.

That's why the rise of Antonia bothered him so. Widowed mere months after her marriage to one of Claudio's chief rivals, Antonia had maneuvered the legal system so skillfully that she was no mere merchant's widow but herself now the head of one of the rising powers in sea-trade. A beauty when she had taken over the company at seventeen (married and widowed so young, the old women would lament), she had only taken two years to build up a fleet and a status among the merchants to rival Claudio's. In the three years since arriving on the scene, though, she had established herself not only as a dominant force among the sea-traders but as Claudio's rival, often stepping in when debtors were about to default on their loans to Claudio, paying them off and establishing herself as benefactor where Claudio had established himself as creditor. In the few years that the two had operated in Venice, they had woven a web of obligation and favor that scarcely left any of the merchant guilds untouched. The older traders in Venice realized soon enough that the future lay with these two young players.

Claudio watched his rival closely, always looking for an advantage, and in the past few months he learned that indeed she had a weakness: Bassanio. He was a worthless youngster, really, the son of an old aristocratic family who was just about the same age as Antonia. He could scarcely lay his hand on any money without immediately turning around and spending it on seducing a young woman or betting it on a throw of the dice. Claudio watched as the beautiful Antonia became more and more smitten with him and as more and more of her money went to the youngster's vice. In the Rialto he would pay street musicians to accompany him as he told tales and danced dances, and Antonia would always be in the gathered crowds. On this afternoon on the Rialto, seeing such a crowd gathered and hearing the young man's voice shouting over the music, Claudio took the chance to sneak behind Antonia and watch her. Holding her hand up to her eyes to block the sun, she beheld the rascal with longing eyes. Claudio got an idea in his head, and he reached a hand up to her side, exposed by her raised arm. Clasping the soft skin of her underarm in his pinching fingers, he thrilled as her body twisted away, and his other hand quickly pinched her side underneath her ribs. Her squeal did not draw the crowd's attention away from the street show, but when she spun around and saw Claudio, her flushed face did not diminish her furious glare.

"I'll not have you laying hands on me, banker!"

"No, you'd rather have the fool's hands on you, wouldn't you?"

Antonia's face turned even redder. "That's... that's none of your business!"

Claudio laughed and spoke to her over his shoulder as he walked away. "Watch yourself, Antonia. That boy will be your downfall, you ticklish little lovebird!" He turned from the flustered merchant and made his way
to his counting-house, smiling from ear to ear. He did not have to watch Antonia's fascination for very long before his prediction came true; within days, Antonia, with Bassanio a step behind her, was at his door.

"We have need of some ducats, and fast."

"Good morrow to you as well, dear Antonia! To what do I owe this honor?"

She scowled for just a moment before returning to her request. "My friend Bassanio has need of three thousand ducats in order to court the lady Portia."

Claudio's eyebrows drew up into the sort of curious look a leopard might get should a gazelle ever offer a dinner date. Apparently his wily rival had really become so smitten that she would risk borrowing money to help her infatuation chase some other woman. "And what assurance would I have that the money would come back? I've seen this young fool squander money but never make money. And I'm not inclined to charitable giving as you are, Antonia."

"Don't bring that up, Claudio. I saved those people from debtors' prison, and you still got your money. This has nothing to do with that. I will vouch for Bassanio. I have ships on their way back to Venice from trading abroad, and I'll have your ducats back to you, with interest, in thirty days."

"Oh, Antonia, I could never charge you interest. But I do need a bit more than your promise. After all, trading at sea is risky business. In port there might be land rats and at sea water rats. In port there might be thieves and at sea water-thieves. I mean pie-rats, of course." He smiled at his own joke, and Bassanio even laughed. Antonia elbowed the young aristocrat, and he stopped.

Antonia's eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at, Claudio?"

Claudio picked up a small, sharp knife as he continued. "If you bring me three thousand ducats by the end of thirty days, we shall part friends, and your boy there can have all the money he needs to get inside the lady's gown." He smirked as Antonia scowled. "But if you do not get me that money, I shall demand a pound of your flesh, to be paid immediately."

Antonia recoiled, and Bassanio's mouth dropped open. She spoke first: "I don't know what kind of game this is, but--"

"No game, Antonia. I need an absolute guarantee I get what I want. You must sign a contract promising one pound of your flesh should you default in thirty days."

Bassanio attempted nobility: "No, Antonia! Let him cut me instead!"

Claudio began to smile from ear to ear. He gestured to Bassanio, then to Antonia, with the knife. "No, boy, you're only the beneficiary here. Your benefactress is the one who thinks herself so superior to me, and it's to her that I extend the offer. Three thousand ducats, without interest, at the peril of one pound of flesh."

"Please, Antonia, don't make that deal with this monster."

"It would be a pity, though, to see the beautiful Lady Portia take up with some Spanish aristocrat. I hear the ship from Andalucia arrives in mere days."

Antonia's fists clenched. "Very well. I'll pay you back your three thousand ducats, and this will all be one of your cruel jokes."

Claudio slowly turned the knife in front of his face, beholding the point. "Let's just see what sorts of cruelty lies ahead, Antonia. Let's just see." He trailed off, then returned quickly to business. "But we must make this official!" He called for one of his clerks, and within a few tense minutes the contract was drawn up: a loan of three thousand ducats, for a period of thirty days. One pound of flesh to pass into the ownership of Claudio on event of default. "Here you are, Antonia. Only sign if you really want this."

With a defiant sneer she signed the contract, and coins were produced. After an embrace with Bassanio, Antonia watched him as he made his way to the docks, money in hand, to depart for Lady Portia's villa. Claudio walked up behind her and spoke quietly in her ear: "I do hope your pretty little friend's happiness in the bed of the rich lady is worth this to you."

Antonia spun and glared at him. "You have no idea what it is to be a friend to any man."

Claudio's sly smile returned. "Oh, Antonia. I can be friendly if I find a friend." He watched her leave the counting-house, sharpening his knife as she walked out into the street.

Weeks passed, and news filtered through the Rialto at the speed of trade: Lady Portia had sent foreign suitors home to Seville, Calais, London. A young Venetian nobleman was the talk of the town as her favorite. And a fierce Atlantic storm had claimed four of Antonia's ships, vessels carrying the lion's share of her wares from America. Word of the bizarre death-wager had also spread, and the people of the town craned their necks every time Antonia and Claudio were in the Rialto at the same time. Then the breaking point came: word came back that a pirate corsair had taken yet another of Antonia's ships, leaving her with only one large trading vessel in a fleet that once had been the envy of the Mediterranean. The crowds could hardly help but follow as she marched into the moneylenders' district to confront Claudio.

"I have nothing left to give you, Claudio. I come to ask your clemency." Antonia's still-defiant sneer gave Claudio a thrill, and he strutted as he responded, loudly enough that the gathered crowds could hear.

"Clemency? My dear Antonia, you are my peer, not some criminal! And when I deal with my peers, do I not deal with people just like me? When you're hot, do you not thirst? When you're glad, do you not shout? When pricked, do you not bleed? When you're tickled, do you not laugh?" Claudio's grin grew as he asked that last one. "And when you owe me, shall you not pay? A pound of your flesh, Antonia. A pound of your flesh if you do not pay me by week's end!"

Antonia's eyes flashed. "I'm nothing like you, monster!"

"Oh, I think we both are creatures of flesh, Antonia. And this time next week, one pound of yours will belong to me." He touched the knife sheathed at his hip as he said so. Antonia stormed away from the bankers' district, and Claudio enjoyed the view of her departure.

More bad news visited Antonia the next day: her final ship had simply drifted off-course, disappearing from anyone's reports. For all intents and purposes, Antonia had no fleet. On the day of her default, officers of the court arrived outside her counting-house, along with great crowds awaiting the display of brutality that no doubt lay in store. Armed guards led Antonia, beaten but still proud, from the merchants' district to the courthouse, where Claudio awaited, standing next to a large wooden restraining device. From out of the crowds rushed Bassanio, his face a mask of terror.

"Antonia, you can't let them do this!"

To her own horror, Antonia could not muster the passionate reply that the moment seemed to call for; she could only see a young boy who had been her doom. The guards pulled her to the center of the courtroom, where a judge looked down from a bench. "This court has reviewed the contract, Antonia, and the terms are unambiguous: you forfeit a pound of your flesh unless you can produce the funds stipulated here. Have you anything to say?"

Antonia fixed her gaze forward but did not say a word.

Claudio spoke next: "Restrain her, then, and let's have at this." The guards placed her in the torture device, her hands tied above her head and feet fastened in wooden stocks. Her only consolation was a cushion upon which she sat: perhaps she could have some comfort as he cut her to pieces. Claudio once again spoke, saying, "I wish to begin with the soles of her feet, two ounces from the bottom of each." The guards removed her boots, and the crowd gasped as they imagined the bloodshed to come. Her smooth soles now lay bare for all to behold, her long toes flexing slightly in the cool courtroom air. Bassanio wept as Claudio drew his knife.

From the back of the courtroom, a high-pitched voice broke the anticipation. "Your honor! Your honor! I would argue in this woman's defense!" Everyone suddenly turned to see a short person, in an attorney's robe, shuffling towards Antonia. A sickly mustache under the nose was the only sign that the little lawyer had even enough years to contemplate law. "May I plead in her case?"

The judge gestured his annoyance. "Go ahead, then, but the contract seems legitimate."

The lawyer faced Claudio. "Your contract calls for one pound of flesh, no?"

Claudio waved his knife's tip as he thought. "Yes, yes it does." He removed a small bottle from a pouch in his tunic and used his knife to pry the cork open.

"And you must have this pound this day, no?"

As he pondered his answer, he sheathed the knife so that he could begin to rub what appeared to be oil onto her soles. Antonia gasped as his hands began to caress her feet. "Those are the terms of the contract."

"But the contract calls not for one drop of blood, does it?"

"No, I don't suppose so."

"Then I demand that you take the pound of flesh without drawing any blood! And if you do, may your own life be forfeit!"

Claudio smiled without showing any teeth. "Do you think I didn't see that coming, little lawyer? Do you think this is some sort of play?" He turned to the judge. "Certainly I would never harm such a beautiful lady. Nonetheless, I do now own one pound of her flesh, and I shall demand the use of it. As I said, two ounces on the sole of each foot. May I demonstrate to the court what the fate of that flesh is to be?" The judge looked around at the crowd, which without doubt wanted to see just that.

"Go on then, Claudio."

"With pleasure." Without touching his knife again he turned to the court. "Since I now own these four ounces of flesh, I shall expect to have use of them when I will. And what I want with them now is some amusement!" With his left hand he promptly grasped Antonia's left big toe, pulling it back as he leaned against the stocks just where they held her left ankle, his back to her. With his right he began to move his fingertips like lightning over her sole. The oil made the touch perfect, allowing him to touch her foot without breaking contact and making his four digits slide over the skin so quickly that they tickled like forty.

Antonia immediately let out a scream of alarm, then attempted to beg, but within seconds, not having expected such treatment, she was laughing, letting out a song of giggles that Claudio wrote on the lines of her sole and that her whole body performed as he played like a concert master on the soft, slick skin of her foot. She squealed and gasped and cooed, all the while thrilling the gathered court with the trills and runs of her flying laughter. Although she could not see what he was doing because of the stocks, she could feel as he switched up his technique, sliding across her sole one minute, wriggling a digit between her toes the next, scraping at the curve of her heel and instep the moment after that. She pulled at the rope that bound her hand, her body straining to pull her foot away from the terrible touches, but her muscles' instincts to escape only made her body writhe in front of the crowd. As Claudio worked on her left foot, the men began to cheer, and Claudio, even in his triumph and rapture, managed to notice that the diminutive lawyer had his eyes not on him but on Bassanio, whose mouth hung open at the spectacle of Antonia's twisting, laughing body. Given one more reason to smile, he released her ankle and began to strut to the other side of Antonia. "As you can see, gentlemen of the court, I never had any intentions of doing harm. Instead, my claim on Antonia's flesh stands to be quite enjoyable to her and to anyone who cares to watch. Should she wish to buy her way out of this, she'll have to start paying interest at this point, but in the meantime, I should be within my rights to continue to enjoy the flesh that I've claimed." He leaned down and looked the trembling Antonia in the eye. "That left foot was two ounces." He produced a stiff feather and twirled it in front of her. "Let's enjoy the right, shall we?"

"No..." But her protest was short-lived as the tip of the feather dipped into the oil on her right foot, darting across the line where the ball of her foot sloped to the arch. This time, instead of a sustained giggle, Claudio drew from her one screech of torment after another, every one followed by a falling giggle but each strike after raising her voice to a ticklish, begging squeal. After perhaps twenty such assaults, Claudio let the feather drop to the ground and set to his work with all ten fingers, and Antonia, whose ability to maintain even the dignity of begging, threw her head back and simply laughed, neither begging nor threatening, not really surrendering even, just unable to do anything else. Claudio grinned at his quick conquest and continued to work on both soles, which at first had tried to twist away from the torturing fingertips, then at odds against the feather's tip, but now simply twitched as Antonia's body wriggled on the bench. Every man in the room, including the judge, leered with mouths open, imagining themselves as the one tickling this fine young woman. Claudio, who was a man of perception even in such moments of rapture, saw that the lawyer was now scowling furiously at Bassanio, whose mouth hung open in the gaping stupor of a man who had discovered a new way to lust.

"YOUR HONOR!" The scream was certainly not a man's and perhaps not even a boy's, but it had enough force to snap the crowd out of their reverie. All eyes were on the lawyer. "Your Honor, this display is unfitting for a courtroom. This is no commercial interaction but immoral contact! I demand that the lady be married to any man who touches her with such familiarity!"

Bassanio's eyes suddenly looked on Antonia with longing. Antonia, struggling to regain herself and realizing what the little attorney had just said, began to shake her head. "No! I can't marry Claudio!" Claudio began to beam in his triumph.

The judge, snapping out of his own voyeuristic moment, weighed what had just been said. "That does make some sense. What say you, Claudio? Will you have this merchant?"

"Only if she consents to marry me. I'll not have a woman who does not want me."

"I do not want him! I do not want him!"

"Let's not decide just yet, my dear. But first, your honor, I have a concern for the court." Striding over to the trembling lawyer, Claudio reached out with oil-slick fingers and grabbed the counselor's thin beard. With a small pull it disengaged, and the whole court could see what Claudio had discovered: not a young man but a lovely young lady had been among them, holding court and violating the rules of Venetian justice. The judge's brows furrowed. "As you can see, your honor, Antonia's advocate has been practicing law, a man's business, in a deceitful manner. I suggest that she be thrown out of court."

The lawyer twisted away from the bailiff's arm. "I am the lady Portia, and I came to save the life of my husband's friend!" She stretched out an accusing finger to point at Bassanio, who suddenly looked abashed. The judge was not amused.

"Bar her from the court, and fine them a hundred ducats for contempt!"

As the bailiff began to haul both of them from the courtroom, Antonia called out, "Lady Portia! Certainly you can pay for my debt! I'll repay you!"

"I didn't bring any money from my manor! I thought I could argue you out of this! It'll be days before I can get that kind of money together!" With that, the courtroom door shut, and Antonia looked back at Claudio, whose victor's smile let her know that she might not have days.

"Your honor, so that the court and the people of Venice can see that I only want a marriage with a lady who desires me, I now claim my remaining twelve ounces of flesh, six on the inside of each of her thighs."

"Claudio, no! You can't do this!"

Claudio leaned in and whispered. "Consent to marry me now, Antonia, and all of our flesh shall be one. With your ships and my bank, we can become the wealthiest man and woman that Venice has ever seen."

"But Bassanio..."

"Bassanio is married, my love. And if I'm right, you will be too, soon!" With that one hand darted up Antonia's skirt, and the crowd went wild. The young lady's dignity long and well departed, what once was the laugh of ticklish but unwished delight gave way to the giggling and moaning and begging that only comes from a woman tickled inside her thighs. Claudio's other hand slipped inside, between her restrained legs, and crossed at the wrists, they continued to work their devilish ministrations on Antonia. There was no escape before, when Claudio tickled her feet, but now, she could feel urges building that she had not known before, and although he never ventured upwards to places forbidden to all but husbands, she knew that this torture was making her body long for what she had merely endured in her brief marriage. Her buttocks began to bounce on the bench, and her face, a quickly shifting mask of merriment and of torment, gave everyone in the courtroom a show the likes of which they had never seen. Claudio, enjoying the agony of his soon-to-be bride, nonetheless reveled in catching a glimpse of Bassanio as his principles waged war with his lust, unable to leave the spectacle but hating himself for his inability. His touches were light when they swept over her skin and precise like a surgeon's when they pressed a point, and he did not have to guess, he could see, that her consent would not be delayed by any stretch of days. He leaned in as his fingers worked their magic. "Shout to the heavens, Antonia. You belong to me!"

"No..."

His tickling never subsided, and he could almost feel her about to explode. He hissed, "Tell these people yes, and we'll finish what we've started here in private, where I can give you what you know you want! Your body needs what I can give!"

Antonia moaned, and Claudio's rock-hard response quaked. She managed to half-moan, half-giggle a "Yes..."

Claudio's fingers kept going. "Should it!"

"Yes!"

More tickling. Another moan. "Louder!"

"YES! YES YES YES!!"

The judge, who was just as flustered as everyone else in the courtroom, with the obvious exception of Antonia, snapped out of it. "Very well. Take them to the basilica, and let them be married immediately!" The courtroom erupted in cheering, and Claudio stopped tickling.

He leaned down to his new betrothed. "I promise you, Antonia, together we will enjoy life in ways that the boy and the young aristocrat could never imagine." Antonia just nodded.

The Rialto was filled with laughter in the weeks that followed as young men and old, having seen what they had seen, sought to satisfy their new urges with the painted ladies of Venice. And as stories turned into local specialties, the houses of ill repute in the city of canals became known as Tickling Chambers, and travelers from all over the known world began to flock to the city to enjoy what became known on the open sea as "An Antonia."

Within a few weeks, Antonia's ships rolled into harbor, one by one, and rumors always floated about that the pirates who had captured them had been on Claudio's payroll all along. But neither Claudio nor Antonia, the most powerful married couple in Renaissance Venice, would ever say one way or another. Their fortunes grew over the next years as their young family grew, and before long at all their reach and power rivaled the Medici family. Their holdings expanded from sea to land as noble families lost their fortunes, and before long they and their children lived like old Roman aristocrats.

At their ocean-side villa one night, a wagon transported a strange bundle to a normally-neglected building not far from the stables. The rough men driving the cart unloaded the bag, which struggled, and revealed a young woman inside, who attempted to resist, vainly, as they tied her to a chair. A torch appeared, and she looked up as the two bearing the torch rounded the corner. She gasped as she realized that they were none other than Claudio and Antonia, a few years older but now eclipsing her own former glory.

Antonia spoke first. "Well, Lady Portia, I'm so glad you could join us for some recreation!"

Claudio followed. "It's a pity that your boy's luck at dice cost you your estate. You can trust, though, that it will remain in good hands with us."

Antonia again: "But even your estate could not pay off Bassanio's gambling debts. I'm afraid he had to bargain with something much closer to him."

"This is kidnapping! I'll have you both executed!"

Claudio smiled cruelly. "Who do you think pays for the law and order around this village, my lady? Your boy owes us money, and he's decided to pay for it in flesh." He skillfully removed her shoes, even as she attempted to kick away. Her smooth sole, glowing in the torchlight, showed its own wares as she flexed and stretched her foot. "And you know what sort of flesh I prefer as payment."

Antonia continued, "You'll soon see, Portia, that only a woman can know where a woman's flesh is most sensitive. I've taught that to my Claudio in a number of these debt-collections."

"No, please! I can't be tickled!"

Claudio turned and smiled at his beloved wife. "No, Portia, most women can be tickled. You just don't want to admit how much you're going to enjoy it."

Antonia grasped her ankle with long, strong fingers. "Your husband agreed to let us have you for a fortnight. I'd hate to waste our time. Let's get started, shall we?"
 
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