Speckled Band - Illustrated

This is my first image content post, so I hope I'm not breaking any rules. I've created some 3d illustrations to accompany a very old tickling story called The Adventure of the Speckled Band. I did not write this story, but since it has been shared online on multiple sites without an author being attributed, I hope no one will mind if I post the unaltered text here, side by side with my illustrations.

If anyone should object to this I will, of course, not object to it being removed.

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The Adventure of the Speckled Band

"Now here's something special," Sir Richard said, unlocking the small door with a key he took from his pocket. I smiled politely, as befit a guest, but I was already bored with his trophy collection. Couldn't a man of his wealth find anything better to do with his time than traveling around the world shooting animals? He pushed open the door, stepped in, clicked on the light -- and I gasped. Arranged along the walls of the small room were more animal trophies -- but what animals! A saber-toothed tiger. A thylacine. A -- no, it couldn't be -- an allosaurus?


"They're quite real," Sir Richard told me. "Relics of a trip I took some time back. I don't suppose you've ever heard of the Savage Land?"

"I've read something about it in the papers," I admitted, staring at a stuffed and mounted oviraptor.


"Wonderful place. There's an agency that will arrange trips there, for the right price."

"What's this?" I asked, pointing at a small glass case that held a band of what looked like leopardskin, to which was attached to a spray of white feathers.



He smiled. "You've found my favorite of all the trophies here." He pointed to a framed photograph next to the case, and as I stared at it in open astonishment, he explained:

* * *​

It was three days into the trip that my guide, Kundi -- one of the natives of that region -- and I became aware that we were being followed through the jungle. We both suspected that hostile jungle-dwellers might be plotting an ambush, so we began to set traps and snares around our camp. One afternoon a few days later, we heard the rattle of a snare being sprung. Snatching up my rifle, I hurried in that direction, with Kundi behind me.



End of Part One

Imagine our astonishment when we saw that we had captured not some animal or a jungle warrior but a woman -- a quite attractive woman with strawberry blond hair, dressed in the briefest of leopardskin garments. She hung by the ankles from our snare, and was in the process of trying to work free as we approached.



"It is the She-Devil, the Jungle Lord's woman," Kundi said nervously as she strained to reach the loop that held her.

"Seize her arms!" I exclaimed at once, suiting action to word, and together we managed to haul her down once more.

I had heard of the Jungle Lord, but he was said to be away at the moment, which was why I'd made my trip then. This woman, Shanna O'Hara, was said to be his equal -- and from the way she glared at me, she meant me no good. I was in a rather hard place there: I certainly couldn't kill her in cold blood, but if I let her go, she'd only make trouble for me later.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped at me.



"I should be more polite if I were you," I said, trying to stall for time. "Your situation is difficult."



"Kill me, and my friends will see to it you don't leave the Savage Land alive."

I had expected no less. What to do?

It was Kundi who saved me. "Among my people, Sir Richard, we have a way of dealing with women who become troublesome."



"Oh?" Shanna sneered. "And how do you plan to do that?"



End of Part Two

"This way." He handed the arm he held to me and stood. Reaching up, Kundi ran his fingers over Shanna's bound-together feet. While her soles must have been tough from years of jungle-running, they were obviously not insensitive; I saw her bite her lip almost immediately, and she began to twist in the snare with obvious discomfort as he pressed on, seeking the softer skin of her arch and under her toes.



"Well!" I exclaimed. "Is this a she-devil, or a ticklish little imp?" I gripped both of Shanna's slender wrists awkwardly in one hand and reached for the nearest likely target, which turned out to be her left underarm. When I brushed my fingers along its length, Shanna's upper body gave a violent shudder, throwing my hand away, but only for an instant; now that I had established her vulnerable area, I began drawing loops around it. She was an extraordinarily strong woman, and could normally have broken my grasp with little effort, but under my and Kundi's touch, her struggles were frantic and uncoordinated.



"Imagine!" Kundi said. "Will my kin believe that I have tickled the She-Devil?"

"We're just getting started," I commented, stroking her right underarm and watching her body jerk in reaction. "She should start pleading for mercy soon. What do you say, tickle-devil? Do you have something to tell us? Beg sweetly enough and we'll stop ... maybe."



Likely she had quite a bit to tell us, but her lips were pressed together in a bloodless line as she fought a losing battle to remain silent. As it was, she was letting out a nearly constant stream of agonized grunts, barely stifled giggles, and mirthful groans. Her face was already a brilliant crimson, which occasioned some concern on my part, and I suggested to Kundi that we cut her down before something burst -- not that we should end our fun, of course. He, assenting, found a knife in the undergrowth nearby -- hers, it seemed, dropped from her ankle sheath when the snare took her -- and cut the rope just above her ankles.



We caught her and flipped her over; the rush of blood leaving her head dazed her, and she offered no resistance as we bore her back to a nearby tree. We laid her at its base, legs stretched out in front, and using some of the rope I carried with me, quickly bound her: waist to a loop around the bole of the tree, wrists pulled above her head and fastened to the mat of tough creepers that wrapped the tree.



Kundi added a few more loops to reinforce the binding on her ankles; I sat on her legs just above the knees, ensuring that her legs would remain stretched straight out. Consciousness was rapidly returning to her, and she had begun to struggle weakly as we put the last touches on her binding. I tell you, she was a lovely creature, made lovelier by the knowledge of what was to come.

End of Part Three

Nice story.

I have seen this story before and it is a classic.
Wonderful illustrations you have made for it!

Speckled Band - Illustrated (Continued)




"Feeling all right, miss?" I asked with mock politeness. "Let me check your reactions to make sure ... " My hands rested lightly on her shoulders. She stonily ignored me even as my hands began to slide down, following the curve of her outfit's deeply plunging neckline ... and then my fingers sneaked under the leopardskin to dig into her ribs, and it was suddenly a lot harder for her to pretend nothing was happening. Her back arched involuntarily and a burst of giggles forced its way past her tight lips. With near-perfect timing, Kundi began to delicately trace the contours of her toes with a small white feather plucked from the ornament she wore on her ankle-band, the very one you see here, meanwhile raking the clawed fingers of his other hand over her soles. Shanna's giggles became loud laughter.



Shanna's feet crossed, recrossed, twisted, and flipped, but Kundi always seemed to know ahead of time which areas would be unprotected, so the foot-torment came nearly nonstop. And my fingers were planted firmly in her ribs, tickling first one side and then the other to make her body squirm back and forth like a metronome. The feel of her warm skin writhing under my hands, the sight of that splendid, near-naked body wriggling so helplessly, the silver sound of her laughter -- it was intoxicating, and I envied Kundi's clan. I wish I had had a way to record the sight and sound. "Please stop!" she gasped during a moment of relief when I switched targets, trailing my fingertips over the taut skin around her exposed navel. Now it was my turn to ignore her as I once again burrowed under her scanty costume to get at her soft lower belly. "Ohh -- hahahahahahaha -- no -- please, please!"



"You heard the lady," I told Kundi. "She's pleased. Rather disappointing, that -- I'd think with all the noise she's making, she'd be more than just pleased. We'll have to work harder, eh?" The native nodded, grinning. He set the feather aside and stopped his slow, even caressing of her feet.

Shanna slumped back against the tree. "Oh, thank -- eeeeEEEEEEhahahahahahaha!"



Kundi had struck again, all ten fingers scrabbling over her soles in a wild, unpredictable pattern. As she fought anew, I leaned closer, fingers moving toward her underarms but stopping a fraction of an inch from the quivering skin.

"Tell me, miss, would you mind if I tickled you here?" I asked.



Shanna, lost in a laughing delirium, likely heard only the word "tickle," and reacted instinctively: she shook her head so hard that her strawberry hair lashed back and forth. "No!" she yelled. "NO!"

"Well, if it's all right with you, then!" I smiled, and began to flick my fingers up and down through her wide-open underarms.

End of Part Four

The Speckled Band
Part Five

Shanna's hysterical squeals climbed toward inaudibility. The vine network she was fastened to creaked as she struggled, but she was unable to lower her arms so much as a fraction of an inch; she was completely at my mercy, which I did not intend to grant until she was well-exhausted.




"Do let us know when you'd like a break," I urged my crimson-faced captive even as I made it impossible for her to speak with a teasing poke and wriggle in her exposed navel. "Tell me, Kundi," I asked my guide, who was using the quill of the feather to slowly and painstakingly trace the network of lines on one sole, holding the shuddering foot rock steady with his other hand, "how long does this treatment of yours usually last?"

"Until the woman has become quiet and obedient," Kundi said.



"Splendid!" I laughed. "We'll be here for days yet!" I dug into her ribs with renewed vigor, delighted at the prospect.



"Aaahaahaahaahaahaahaa -- stop! Mercy! I'll do -- no no no no -- hahahahahaha -- anything! Please!" Shanna yelped, real desperation in her voice.

Kundi and I paused to regard the struggling, yowling woman, though our hands did not leave her skin. She certainly seemed much less of a threat now.

"The She-Devil sounds truly repentant, sir," the native said mock-thoughtfully.



"I'll believe it when I hear it from those pretty lips," I said. "Tell us, dear girl: should we let you go? And be advised," I warned as Shanna caught her breath and licked her lips, "if the next thing we hear from you is a threat, you'll be our tickle toy for the rest of my holiday. I've ten days to go yet"



End of Part Five

The Speckled Band
Part Six​

Shanna dropped her head, sweat-soaked hair screening her face "I pro -- heeheeheehee -- I p -- heeheehee -- I -- heeheehee -- " Every time she started to speak, one or the other of us would give her a quick, sharp tickle, which in her weakened state was sufficient to dissolve her in helpless giggles.

"Speak up," I urged as Kundi's forefingers lightly scratched at the tiny hypersensitive spots at the peaks of her arches, making her legs twist and flex beneath us with a power born of desperation. "We haven't all day."

"Damn it, I'll tell you if you'll just stop the bloody tickling!" she yelled, her flush deepening from rage. Kundi and I glanced at one another and shook our heads in commiseration as she paled and shrank back wide-eyed, realizing the excuse she'd just handed us. "No, wait," she began. "I mean -- "

"Looks as if we're not done yet," I commented, and began tickling her belly once more while Kundi bent back the toes of one foot to trace their undersides. Weary though she might be, there was nothing lacking in the scream of laughter she produced. "Oh, God! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't -- nooooooo!"

Kindly, I laid off her stomach, though I gestured to Kundi to continue his exploration of her toes. "Perhaps with you reminding her what hangs over her head, the dear girl will be able to tender a proper apology. Well, what do you say?"


End of Part Six

The Speckled Band
Part Seven​

Kundi was an absolute wizard at finding sensitive spots under and between her toes; it took her at least six attempts to gasp out a suitable apology uninterrupted by giggles. I motioned to him to stop, watching and feeling her whole body slump in relief, and then began lightly playing my fingertips up and down her underarms. She sat up bolt upright with a yell that must have been heard from miles. "I said I'm -- heeheeheehee -- sorry! Stop! STOP!"

"The apology covers your rude speech," I reminded her. "There's still the matter of your following us with apparent intent to do us harm. Of course," I continued, still tickling away, "if you wish to explain your position, you will find me a ready listener. There's nothing I'd enjoy more than spending a night by the campfire listening to your story and -- "

"I'll leave you alone!" she shrieked. "I promise! Just -- just no more tickling!"

I stopped immediately. After all, I am a man of my word. Leaving her in Kundi's charge, I returned to our camp a short distance away for my camera. I cannot help it that, while I was away, Kundi felt the need to amuse himself further with her body; I must have been distracted and failed to hear her hysterical laughter. You can be sure I reprimanded him severely when I returned. I took several pictures of her -- after all, I was on holiday. This one here's the best of the lot. That's Kundi holding her feet, and he's pointing to one of the more sensitive spots on her soles. Actually, as you can see from her face, he's demonstrating how it works.

The pictures done, we cut her loose. Clumsy Kundi managed to cut her clothing up rather badly as well, and it had to be discarded. The last we saw of her, she was vanishing into the underbrush like a pink streak.

Kundi kept her knife and a scrap of leopardskin cloth as a trophy, while I took the anklet that had provided him with tickling feathers. I would imagine she no longer wears feathers, wouldn't you think? Ah, yes, that was a wonderful holiday indeed. One memorable moment after another. Why, the very next day, I shot a Struthiomimus, part of whose skin is preserved over here ...

The End

A wonderful continuation and finish to illustrations!

I wrote this thing more years than I care to remember ago; it was one of my earliest tickle stories. I'm glad that it's still floating around out there and I like your illustrations very much. Thanks for this!

milagros317 said:

I have seen this story before and it is a classic.
Wonderful illustrations you have made for it!

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Shem the Penman said:

I wrote this thing more years than I care to remember ago; it was one of my earliest tickle stories. I'm glad that it's still floating around out there and I like your illustrations very much. Thanks for this!

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I knew that I had read it a long time ago but I had forgotten that you wrote it, Shem. It is truly a classic.