ElFewja
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I believe this one is from 2009, which makes sense. Around then I had just done a group presentation for a course which involved reading/analyzing/teaching a lot of short fairy tales. Pretty sure I wrote this soon after. It doesn't have a lot of tickling content, though. Kind of just a weird/cute short story, which is kind of unlike most of the other stuff I've written. Meh. Enjoy? --Had to edit this because the formatting was messed up by the forums.
The Frog-Prince and the Daughter of the Moon (M/f feet)
It so happened that once, long ago in a distant kingdom there lived a prince. He had recently celebrated the day that marked his eighteenth year of birth though he had yet to acquire land of his own. As such he continued to live with his father inside of their prospering kingdom’s sprawling castle walls. The father, a good and benevolent king, was well loved by the serfs who knew nothing save his name and a rough idea of his appearance; the son, however, was frowned upon widely and the general population of the land trembled before the idea that this cruel man would become their king one day.
Truthfully, nary a soul knew why he was so cruel. What was spoken of him was largely rumor and myth; reason was never given to as to why he was evil, other than the fact that he, supposedly, simply was. Unlike the uneducated serfs, the servants of the castle knew him to be quite a jovial figure, eating heartily and laughing merrily; even his guests, especially the women taken to his private chambers, laughed as much as him, though some laughed even more, and still some more would yell at him to stop his antics because his jokes were far too humorous for them to contain themselves. For long hours his guests would laugh at the comedies he spun, and the servants always eyed the tired women who left his side jealously, hoping that some day they would be treated to as nice of times as these strange nameless and title-less women that the prince often invited as guests, even if they always seemed to forget their shoes as they left the castle.
One day in particular, much celebration was had in the towns; it seemed that after the prince threw one of his raucous parties he had slipped away in the night, disappearing. There was much celebration within the towns that this man would no longer take the throne, though the public was indeed sad that their gentle king’s line would now end here. Search parties were made but the prince was nowhere to be found. Though his chambers were always guarded by two servants awaiting his whims, they saw hide nor hair of him the day that particularly strange woman appeared, with long hair that was dark as night lit alive with stars by the torches of the halls; she was the first and only woman to ever leave the prince’s presence without laughing and with her shoes upon her feet. Before long, the prince was forgotten, and the kingdom, serfs and all, continued its merry life.
Some years passed, during which nightly accounts of odd frogs attacking the feet of the kingdom's women were spread. Though the ineffective attacks did little more than tickle the poor victims silly, whispers of the strange sightings dominated the streets. Soon it was said that other strange happenings were about; there were sightings of wolves walking upon hind legs and peculiar birds that transformed into maidens. It became rumor that some dark magical power was growing within the kingdom and that soon it’s inhabitants would be destroyed.
As a sign of good faith the daughter of the moon, heir to the throne of that celestial body, floated down one evening when the sky was afire with a thousand twinkling lights next to a silvery and full moon. For several nights she graced the land, visiting homes and wishing well-do’s and blessings, greatly calming the rising storm of doubt in this little kingdom.
On the last night of her intended visit, the daughter of the moon walked through a deep forest, observing the lay of the land and the beauty that she so seldom saw, as the radiant glow of the silver gown that hid her luminescent body lit the world around her in an otherworldly way. After quite some time she happened upon a small stream, it’s water slapping quickly against impervious rocks as silver threads of light emanated from her reflection. Deciding that this place she had discovered, with the several fire flies burning their golden lights brightly and defiantly against her natural silver glow, was the most beautiful she had come to find, she sat upon the stump of a tree that had once overlooked this small amount of water which ran like a child, laughing and smiling as it played some game. As she sat she wrapped her legs around the stump to its left, musing that she must look as if one of the proverbial mermaids that sung on the great bodies of water she had yet to see. Her feet came to rest upon their silver tops, so that the long heels of her shoes stuck out into the air.
Some moments later she felt a tug at her heel as her shoe seemed to pull itself away from her right foot. It fell off, grazing the side of her foot as it did so, and the cool night air blessed her tired foot with its caress as the silver of her sole puffed the air around it to life. Looking down, she spoke to herself, “What creature would remove the shoe of the daughter of the moon?” As she said this, she caught a glimpse of a small frog standing upon it’s hind legs, it’s tiny head pointed at her arch. “Ah, a strange frog. What do you want, strange little frog?”
“I am no frog! I am the prince of this land!”
“I say, but you certainly look like a frog. Could it be that the king is also a frog, and that this land is ruled by the animals that live upon it?”
“Nay, fair maiden! A curse has been set upon me!”
“A curse, you say?”
“Yes!”
“What nature of curse, might I ask? Perhaps I could assist thee?”
“Nay, fair maiden; you could not. Tell me, though, who are you, that glows with such a heavenly and beautiful light?”
“Nay, dear frog; I cannot answer your question until you have answered mine. And for what reason have you removed my shoe?” No answer was given, though there was silence for a time. Finally, the small frog leapt gracefully onto the back of her heel and began striking at her arch, sending new, strange sensations coursing through her body that she had never experienced before, bringing joy to her being and a smile to her face as she laughed lightly.
“Oh, hehe, dear frog, what is it that you are doing?” She spoke before laughing melodically, filling the still night air with musical laughter that twanged like the thick, metallic strings of a golden harp.
“You have never before been tickled?” He asked, stopping for a moment.
“Oh, is that what this act is called? Tickle?”
“Tickling.”
“Ah, I see. No, I have not. For, you see, in my kingdom, maidens are not to reveal their feet at any time.”
“So you have never gone barefoot.”
“Nay, sir frog.”
“Such a pity, for one with as sensitive soles as yourself. You see, though, in my kingdom, it is forbidden for a woman to wear shoes.”
“Ah. I see. So that it is easier to tickle them?”
“Aye.”
“I see.” A new sensation met her words. It was slimy and slid gracefully down the center of her foot, tickling it greatly, much more than the strikes from before. Though her foot wanted to pull itself away, to protect itself and hide from this new feeling, she fought against it, not wishing to dishonor her new friend's customs. Instead, she looked up toward the moon that filled the sky, it’s light parting the canopy of leaves above her, and laughed heartily, forming a song of new happiness that she had never known to exist.
After quite some time, the frog had left her entire sole drenched with its green slime, and though she felt wonderful, she grew tired, largely from the tickling that her tiny, silver toes had received, which was easily one of the most wonderful experiences she had ever had. Despite how tired she was the frog continued licking all around her foot, extracting more and more laughter from her with its expertise, until at last, he stopped.
“Why do you stop, dear frog?”
“You have not asked me to stop.”
“So that makes you want to not tickle me?”
“Well, no. But, most maidens do not like this feeling, and beg for it to end.”
“Ah. Why is that?”
“Because it tickles.”
“I must say, I do not understand. Why would anyone want this wonderful feeling to stop?” With those words, a strange sound erupted from where the frog stood upon the ground, and a brilliant light flashed, blinding her. It only lasted for a moment, but she could not see for several; when her sight finally returned, in place of the frog, she saw a handsome man, who too seemed amazed at his sudden appearance by the way he looked himself up and down. A large smile was worn on his face, though not as wide as the smile that she wore on hers from the tickling that had ensued.
“The curse is lifted!” He shouted triumphantly.
“Ah, the curse. You never did explain it.”
“Ah, that is right. You see, I used to tickle many women against their will and one day happened to try to put a witch through it. She became enraged, and placed a curse on me, that would only be lifted if I tickled a woman that genuinely enjoyed it.”
“I see. And for what reason have you stopped tickling me?”
He smiled, his teeth peeking from behind his lips like a wolf's as he looked into her glowing black eyes. Soon he knelt down, dirtying his crimson velvet pants with the cool and damp dirt as he removed her remaining shoe. For the rest of the night, the daughter of the moon laughed heartily unlike any time she had before.
Though, when she bid him farewell at dawn, he swept her away to his palace and locked her within the deepest dungeon’s stockade, to be tickled at his will nightly. Truthfully she did not complain, but looked forward to it each night so that together they could create their wonderful song of laughter. And so it remains even today, he serving as her maestro, plucking at her feet in a wispy frenzy while she sings of those hitherto unknown treasures that he locked away from her, keeping them forever shoeless from their meeting onward.
The Frog-Prince and the Daughter of the Moon (M/f feet)
It so happened that once, long ago in a distant kingdom there lived a prince. He had recently celebrated the day that marked his eighteenth year of birth though he had yet to acquire land of his own. As such he continued to live with his father inside of their prospering kingdom’s sprawling castle walls. The father, a good and benevolent king, was well loved by the serfs who knew nothing save his name and a rough idea of his appearance; the son, however, was frowned upon widely and the general population of the land trembled before the idea that this cruel man would become their king one day.
Truthfully, nary a soul knew why he was so cruel. What was spoken of him was largely rumor and myth; reason was never given to as to why he was evil, other than the fact that he, supposedly, simply was. Unlike the uneducated serfs, the servants of the castle knew him to be quite a jovial figure, eating heartily and laughing merrily; even his guests, especially the women taken to his private chambers, laughed as much as him, though some laughed even more, and still some more would yell at him to stop his antics because his jokes were far too humorous for them to contain themselves. For long hours his guests would laugh at the comedies he spun, and the servants always eyed the tired women who left his side jealously, hoping that some day they would be treated to as nice of times as these strange nameless and title-less women that the prince often invited as guests, even if they always seemed to forget their shoes as they left the castle.
One day in particular, much celebration was had in the towns; it seemed that after the prince threw one of his raucous parties he had slipped away in the night, disappearing. There was much celebration within the towns that this man would no longer take the throne, though the public was indeed sad that their gentle king’s line would now end here. Search parties were made but the prince was nowhere to be found. Though his chambers were always guarded by two servants awaiting his whims, they saw hide nor hair of him the day that particularly strange woman appeared, with long hair that was dark as night lit alive with stars by the torches of the halls; she was the first and only woman to ever leave the prince’s presence without laughing and with her shoes upon her feet. Before long, the prince was forgotten, and the kingdom, serfs and all, continued its merry life.
Some years passed, during which nightly accounts of odd frogs attacking the feet of the kingdom's women were spread. Though the ineffective attacks did little more than tickle the poor victims silly, whispers of the strange sightings dominated the streets. Soon it was said that other strange happenings were about; there were sightings of wolves walking upon hind legs and peculiar birds that transformed into maidens. It became rumor that some dark magical power was growing within the kingdom and that soon it’s inhabitants would be destroyed.
As a sign of good faith the daughter of the moon, heir to the throne of that celestial body, floated down one evening when the sky was afire with a thousand twinkling lights next to a silvery and full moon. For several nights she graced the land, visiting homes and wishing well-do’s and blessings, greatly calming the rising storm of doubt in this little kingdom.
On the last night of her intended visit, the daughter of the moon walked through a deep forest, observing the lay of the land and the beauty that she so seldom saw, as the radiant glow of the silver gown that hid her luminescent body lit the world around her in an otherworldly way. After quite some time she happened upon a small stream, it’s water slapping quickly against impervious rocks as silver threads of light emanated from her reflection. Deciding that this place she had discovered, with the several fire flies burning their golden lights brightly and defiantly against her natural silver glow, was the most beautiful she had come to find, she sat upon the stump of a tree that had once overlooked this small amount of water which ran like a child, laughing and smiling as it played some game. As she sat she wrapped her legs around the stump to its left, musing that she must look as if one of the proverbial mermaids that sung on the great bodies of water she had yet to see. Her feet came to rest upon their silver tops, so that the long heels of her shoes stuck out into the air.
Some moments later she felt a tug at her heel as her shoe seemed to pull itself away from her right foot. It fell off, grazing the side of her foot as it did so, and the cool night air blessed her tired foot with its caress as the silver of her sole puffed the air around it to life. Looking down, she spoke to herself, “What creature would remove the shoe of the daughter of the moon?” As she said this, she caught a glimpse of a small frog standing upon it’s hind legs, it’s tiny head pointed at her arch. “Ah, a strange frog. What do you want, strange little frog?”
“I am no frog! I am the prince of this land!”
“I say, but you certainly look like a frog. Could it be that the king is also a frog, and that this land is ruled by the animals that live upon it?”
“Nay, fair maiden! A curse has been set upon me!”
“A curse, you say?”
“Yes!”
“What nature of curse, might I ask? Perhaps I could assist thee?”
“Nay, fair maiden; you could not. Tell me, though, who are you, that glows with such a heavenly and beautiful light?”
“Nay, dear frog; I cannot answer your question until you have answered mine. And for what reason have you removed my shoe?” No answer was given, though there was silence for a time. Finally, the small frog leapt gracefully onto the back of her heel and began striking at her arch, sending new, strange sensations coursing through her body that she had never experienced before, bringing joy to her being and a smile to her face as she laughed lightly.
“Oh, hehe, dear frog, what is it that you are doing?” She spoke before laughing melodically, filling the still night air with musical laughter that twanged like the thick, metallic strings of a golden harp.
“You have never before been tickled?” He asked, stopping for a moment.
“Oh, is that what this act is called? Tickle?”
“Tickling.”
“Ah, I see. No, I have not. For, you see, in my kingdom, maidens are not to reveal their feet at any time.”
“So you have never gone barefoot.”
“Nay, sir frog.”
“Such a pity, for one with as sensitive soles as yourself. You see, though, in my kingdom, it is forbidden for a woman to wear shoes.”
“Ah. I see. So that it is easier to tickle them?”
“Aye.”
“I see.” A new sensation met her words. It was slimy and slid gracefully down the center of her foot, tickling it greatly, much more than the strikes from before. Though her foot wanted to pull itself away, to protect itself and hide from this new feeling, she fought against it, not wishing to dishonor her new friend's customs. Instead, she looked up toward the moon that filled the sky, it’s light parting the canopy of leaves above her, and laughed heartily, forming a song of new happiness that she had never known to exist.
After quite some time, the frog had left her entire sole drenched with its green slime, and though she felt wonderful, she grew tired, largely from the tickling that her tiny, silver toes had received, which was easily one of the most wonderful experiences she had ever had. Despite how tired she was the frog continued licking all around her foot, extracting more and more laughter from her with its expertise, until at last, he stopped.
“Why do you stop, dear frog?”
“You have not asked me to stop.”
“So that makes you want to not tickle me?”
“Well, no. But, most maidens do not like this feeling, and beg for it to end.”
“Ah. Why is that?”
“Because it tickles.”
“I must say, I do not understand. Why would anyone want this wonderful feeling to stop?” With those words, a strange sound erupted from where the frog stood upon the ground, and a brilliant light flashed, blinding her. It only lasted for a moment, but she could not see for several; when her sight finally returned, in place of the frog, she saw a handsome man, who too seemed amazed at his sudden appearance by the way he looked himself up and down. A large smile was worn on his face, though not as wide as the smile that she wore on hers from the tickling that had ensued.
“The curse is lifted!” He shouted triumphantly.
“Ah, the curse. You never did explain it.”
“Ah, that is right. You see, I used to tickle many women against their will and one day happened to try to put a witch through it. She became enraged, and placed a curse on me, that would only be lifted if I tickled a woman that genuinely enjoyed it.”
“I see. And for what reason have you stopped tickling me?”
He smiled, his teeth peeking from behind his lips like a wolf's as he looked into her glowing black eyes. Soon he knelt down, dirtying his crimson velvet pants with the cool and damp dirt as he removed her remaining shoe. For the rest of the night, the daughter of the moon laughed heartily unlike any time she had before.
Though, when she bid him farewell at dawn, he swept her away to his palace and locked her within the deepest dungeon’s stockade, to be tickled at his will nightly. Truthfully she did not complain, but looked forward to it each night so that together they could create their wonderful song of laughter. And so it remains even today, he serving as her maestro, plucking at her feet in a wispy frenzy while she sings of those hitherto unknown treasures that he locked away from her, keeping them forever shoeless from their meeting onward.
