View Full Version : "Hannah In Wanderlust" */F, feet and elsewhere

05-27-2015, 06:59 AM

featuring Professor Hannah Davis and the Vellication Irregulars

by Tee Hee Lawrence

The end of the Spring term somewhat liberated Hannah Davis, Associate Professor of American History at Commonwealth College, from her considerable academic duties. and allowed her to indulge in other pursuits. One of these was taming the overgrown garden around her compact Tudor cottage amidst the pines high on Crane Hill, overlooking the campus in River Mill.

Thus, it was amidst bundles of prunings, heaps of cut grass and leaves, wheelbarrow and shears, shovel and rake that Hannah, clad in Atlanta Braves cap, prescription sunglasses, gently-distressed denim shirt, khaki work gloves, grass-stained jeans with rolled-up cuffs, and red hi-top sneakers knelt, surveying her "estate." The lanky academic, auburn-haired and olive-skinned in her late thirties, picked up a grassy clod and tossed it into the wheelbarrow.

"Mah, mah! Ah've been at it for hours and it's STILL a mess." She swatted at a gnat buzzing her ear, her glove leaving a smear of dirt on her cheek. "Maybe I should have done what Gelsomina suggested, and hired a couple of her students to help do the grunt work." Geli was her friend and CC colleague (in the Science Department). "God knows how long it'll take ME alone to clear the grass for mah veggie garden."

She got to her feet and stumbled over to the lawn chair near her back steps. She flopped into the chair and reached for one of the water bottles she'd dumped in a bucket of ice. Drinking thirstily, she studied the garden diagram she and Geli had drawn up the night before. Her visions of fat, heirloom tomatoes, lush salad greens, and tumescent zucchini were being challenged by her aching muscles and sunburnt nose.

She set the diagram down in her lap, stretched out langourously in the chair, and lowered the brim of her cap over her eyes. "The Legendary Garden of Sister Hannah will not be realized QUITE as quickly as planned," she drawled, her toes easing her sneakers off her steaming bare feet. "There's today's HERSTORY blog entry to considah, not to mention supper. All in good tahme..." And she surrendered to the barely-audible snores of a sweet doze.

Sometime later, Hannah felt something brush her right toes. She wiggled them and brushed at them with her left toes. Under her cap, she murmured, "Hehheh. Damn gnats. 'Tickles."

"Excuse me." The voice was a cultured one, with a faintly British accent.

Hannah felt something soft stroke down her left sole, and she jerked her foot away. She giggled and muttered, "Quit ticklin'."

More insistent, the voice said, "I DO beg your pardon, but I rather need your help."

This time, Hannah felt tickles on her right sole and left toes. She yelped and pulled her legs back. "HE-EY hehheh! Will you STOP--?"
Pushing up her cap, she was brought short by the sight of--

"A raccoon! A talking raccoon in a white linen suit, wearing a straw boater! Huh." She rubbed her eyes, sure she was dreaming.

But, indeed, at her feet--and with one, ah, paw, hovering near her re-extended bare right foot--was a three-foot-tall raccoon, standing upright on his rear legs, and fashionably dressed for an Edwardian picnic. He was nearsightedly peering at her over a pince-nez perched on his snout.
"I say! No need to raise a ruckus. I merely hoped you might give me directions. I've lost my way...and I'm very, VERY late."

Hannah reached over and pulled an icy water bottle from the bucket. She rubbed it over her forehead, mumbling, "OK...OK...just had a touch too much sun. 'Making me imagine a raccoon is talkin' to me after ticklin' mah feet."

He chuckled, "Hehheh. I know that was MOST forward of me. Tickling your lovely bare feet before we've even been introduced. I'm T. Edward Furrley, Esq." He raised his hat and twirled it upon his left paw. He extended his right paw.

After a moment's hesitation, Hannah leaned forward and grasped his paw with her right hand. "Hannah Davis. Professor. Weekend gardener. Probably delusional. What does the T stand for? Tickler?"

"Hehheh. No, but my friends call me Ted." Releasing her hand, he allowed his paw to slide down her right sole. Hannah giggled, "HehhehHEY!" He winked and leered, "My, but you ARE deliciously ticklesome."

Hannah stood and, hands on hips, peered down upon her visitor. "OK. Enough of THAT! What are you doing here, Ted-or-whatever-you-are?"

"I'm terribly late for an audience with The Minister of Plumage. There's been a discrepancy in the accounting, y'know. And on the eve of The Laughter Festival. We've got to trace the missing feathers, or there'll be scandal and sacking. Of me, in particular."

Hannah rubbed her eyes again and sat down, keeping her feet on the ground. "It sorta figures that the first talking raccoon I meet WOULD be a bureaucrat. My life seems full of them."

"Please. This is no time for levity. I simply have to be on my way. I'm terribly, TERRIBLY--"

They both said, "--late." As she put her sneakers on, Hannah added, "Ah know, Ah know. There's a small part of me that wants to throw a net over you and call some friends at the College. If capturing you doesn't double endowments, Ah'm Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings."

Ted looked panicked and began to edge away. "Oh, you mustn't. You MUSTN'T! I'm late, I tell you! Quite, QUITE late!" He began to scurry around her backyard. "If you won't help me find the egress, I'll find it myself!"

"Waitaminnut, Teddy!" Hannah cried, hurrying after him. "WAIT!"

He disappeared behind the rhodadenron bush next to her gas grille. Hannah fell to her knees and clambered under the bush. Suddenly, she felt herself falling freely, tumbling in inky space, the sunlight bathing her backyard on a Saturday afternoon rapidly receding above her.

Despite the terror of her free fall--and the awful thought of its horrific, abrupt ending--Hannah had the presence of mind to pull her smartphone from her pocket. She thumbed her directory on, then realized she didn't know whom to call, or what she would say or ask for. It was instantly academic as turbulence ripped the phone from her grasp as she swore a most unacademic oath.

She was still swearing when she became aware that she'd stopped falling, and indeed had reached solid ground, or rather found herself mostly under it. Somehow, she found herself under the rich, grassy earth of a forest clearing, buried except for her capped head and sneakered feet. Her phone was improbably and frustratingly a few feet away, stuck halfway into the grass. It was playing a video of her falling.

Hannah took a deep breath and hollered, "HEEEEELLLPPPP! Can anybody help me?" Then, after the quiet bird twitter and wind rustle of the woods made her isolation plain, she added, softly, "Obviously not."

She strained to lift herself from the ground--her feet waggling and her hat tumbling off her red head--without success. "I intended to get myself into the soil this weekend, but THIS is ridiculous!"

Hannah was catching her breath for another no-doubt futile effort to get free when a golden-winged, strawberry blond gibbon landed in the clearing, right before her feet. The gibbon--wearing a leather flight helmet with amber goggles, a red vest with gold buttons, and red pantaloons--eyed Hannah's red sneakers with obvious delight.

He crouched by her head and, with the formal English of a Southern Asian consular official, said, "You, madam, are certainly a welcome sight for this weary traveller's eyes."

"Don't tell me." Hannah drawled. "You're lost, you're terribly, terribly late, and no, Ah don't know the way to Shangri-la. Ah've got my own troubles, thank you--and leave my sneakers ALONE!"

Thanks to his long arms, the gibbon was running his long hands admiringly over Hannah's red sneakers, even while crouching near her head. "Oh, you must excuse me. My name is Pradeep Mallomar, diplomatic courier for the Raj Hahaha."

Hannah muttered, "Hahaha? Sure. Whatever." She blew an auburn bang that had fallen over her eyes. "Ah will say this for the animals Ah've met so far today. You're well-spoken, if too free with your paws." She jerked her feet away and kept waggling them insistently.

"I have a favor to ask, dear lady--"

"Hannah. PROFESSOR Hannah Davis. Though mah name might as well be mud considering the fix Ah'm in."

"Dear Professor, you could help me so VERY much. On my way here, I, ah, fell into a game of, well, a game of chance and sadly wagered away my fine boots." He smiled wistfully. "I'm still convinced the mongoose was cheating."

"You play with Rikki-Tikki-Tavi," Hannah sneered, "you deserve t'be snookered."

"Yes, well, you are unquestionably correct, but...," he said, as he held her right sneaker and began to unlace it.

"No! Don't!" Hannah cried.

"...I cannot be received at the Capitol shoeless..."--He slipped her right sneaker off, and began to unlace her other one.-- "...so I hope you'll allow me to, ah, borrow these magnificent red shoes for my duties of State." He pulled off her left sneaker.

"Look, you--you whatever-the-Hell-you-are, give 'em back, or--or I'll...I'll...." She furiously waggled her bare feet and wiggled her long toes, red toenail polish glinting.

The gibbon tried Hannah's sneakers on for size. "Or you'll...what, precisely?" They were admittedly a little big, but standing upright in them, he seemed most pleased.

"HEEEELLPPP!" Hannah screamed. "THIEF! He's stealing mah sneakers. No-good winged monkey! THIEF!" The gibbon blinked silently at her as the quiet of the woods returned to the clearing.

"Furry...feathered...FELON!" grumbled Hannah. "You won't get away with this." She briefly resumed trying to free herself, getting red-faced with frustration.

"Do look me up when you get to the Capitol, Professor. Now, I MUST be off!"

As he turned to become airborne, the golden tips of his lower wing feathers brushed Hannah's bare soles. She sputtered, "Heeey-hehhehheh! Stop THAHAHAT!" She wasn't too tickled to marvel at his ascent, his golden wings barely audible in their propulsion, her sneakers hanging off his feet. Quickly, he was beyond the clearing, out of sight. Left behind, clenched between the toes of her left foot, was one of the fleecy golden feathers. When she relaxed her toes, it fell to the grass by her feet.

Hannah was still fuming at her predicament and her lost footwear moments later when a tiny, pink face popped up from the grass next to her head. "Aaarrgh!" Hannah cried.

"You don't have to SHOUT!" shouted the worm in a distinct, if faint, high-pitched voice. When she was calm enough to focus, Hannah saw that it had round eyes made more expressive by bushy black eyebrows, a button nose, a black moustache, and a mouth highlighted by two piercings. The length of its hairy, segmented body that she could see was adorned with numerous tattoos, at least one of which was a fluffy feather. In an East End accent, the worm asked, "Why are you lying around here anyway, shouting at folks?"

Irritated, Hannah replied, "Ah fell out of my garden in pursuit of a tickling raccoon and found myself stuck here, where Ah've just had my sneakers stolen right off mah feet by a flying monkey. Any MORE questions?"

The worm flinched and muttered, "Me and the family were just wondering when you'd be leaving is all. We were just crawling down to dinner." Over a dozen other worms popped up out of the grass to stare at Hannah. She couldn't help shivering at the sight.

"Look, Mr. Worm..."

"Bond's the name."

"Don't tell me you're--"

"Sylvester Bond. You've 'eard of me then?"

"You're the talk of the loam. Look, Sylvester, Ah need some help here. Ah'd like to get out. YOU'D like me out of your, uh, dining room. Can you help me to get loose by, maybe, digging about? Ah'd be absolutely tickled-to-death if you all would!"

"Tickled?" he mused. "Well, if you think that'll work, me and the fam will 'appily oblige you."

His head--and all the others--disappeared underground. Hannah held her breath, hoping the little buggers would work fast enough to free her soon. She was not expecting the feeling of a dozen worms, their long bodies coated with coarse, tickly hairs, crawling into her clothes.

"NO! Hehheh! WAIT! You're--hahaha-tickling! AHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!" And, indeed, under her shirt and inside her jeans, the little worms ran their tickly bodies along Hannah's many, very ticklish spots. She giggled and chortled and laughed and chuckled in her rich Southern contralto as they teased her tits and nudged her ribs and poked her pits. She howled and guffawed and hooted hilariously as they wriggled behind her knees and along her thighs and upon her hips and between her ass cheeks. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAAAA!"

Hannah in her hilarity WAS loosening her loamy prison, but not quite enough for her to break free of the earth. Through her tears of laughter, she beheld, standing just beyond her bare feet, the still surprising figure of one T. Edward Furrley, Esq., holding the golden feather.

"Just what do you think you're playing at, Professor?" Red-faced, she shook her head, laughing at him. "Ah'm not--hahahahaaaaaa!"

"Why did you follow me, madam? Are you determined to keep me from finding the purloined plumes?" She squeezed her eyes shut and giggled, "Heeheeheeheeeee!"

"Very well. I don't know where you found this telltale feather, but if you REFUSE to tell YOUR tale, I know where and how to use this to MAKE you tell."

With that, the smartly-attired raccoon rested on his haunches and began to expertly stroke Hannah's soft, pink bare feet with the tickly golden feather. Her feet flailed and her toes spasmed, as she screamed with helpless laughter. Teased within and feathered without, Hannah laughed and laughed until she was short of breath and thrumming with desire. The variety and persistent tickling by the Bonds--tightening her nipples and deluging her short 'n' curlies--and Teddy--clearly fascinated tracing the wrinkles of her soles and the paleness of her arch and the wiggly lengths of her toes--all-too-soon practically caused her to levitate, freeing her from the earth which held her.

Moaning and giggling and very dusty, Hannah breathed deeply with closed eyes, as the Bonds fled back underground for dinner and Teddy dropped the feather. He pulled out a pocket watch and exclaimed, "Oh, dear! No time, no time. I'm terribly, TERRIBLY late." Holding onto his straw hat, he scurried into the forest.

Hannah opened her eyes, catching a fleeting glimpse of him. She sat up and reached for her phone, which was showing a video of the raccoon feathering her feet. "'Little guy is just EVIL." She tried to make a call--randomly selecting her friend Shaundra--but wasn't getting a signal. "Great. The only thing hot at this spot is me, apparently."

She got to her feet and, somewhat gingerly without shoes, followed Teddy into the woods. What else could she do? He was her only link to home...

To be continued...

05-27-2015, 08:26 AM
Hooray for a new Hannah Davis yarn! And a whimsical, fantastical one, at that! I'll be watching like a hawk for future installments, and hope the author doesn't share his characters' tendency toward tardiness...

05-27-2015, 10:05 AM
Awesome! Any titillating Tee Hee story

05-27-2015, 12:46 PM
genius Sir...pure genius...love it!!

05-27-2015, 04:51 PM
Wonderful story! :feets: I look forward to more of it, and to see further parallels to the work of Lewis Carroll. :D

05-27-2015, 07:04 PM
Ah good stuff. Great start! Sooo many possibilities :-)

05-27-2015, 09:32 PM
You're all most kind.<p> Munch, The T in MY name probably DOES stand for tardy, not Teddy or tickler. Thus, I can't say the next installment will be appearing tomorrow. However, I'm trying to improvise more and rewrite less, so hope to avoid making this series the protracted muddle of some of my previous ones. (Yeah, I know...I've sung that tune before.)<p>mila, as you may know, I only, ahem, "borrow" from writers no longer living. One thing you may be sure of: I won't be emulating Mr. Dodgson's mathematical expertise in THIS folderol.<p>tommy, don't say that! If there are THAT many possibilities, I'll attempt 'em all, and NEVER finish another chapter!

05-28-2015, 01:06 PM
Love it! Hope Hannah gets stripped down to her bra and panties.

05-28-2015, 11:31 PM
Love it! Hope Hannah gets stripped down to her bra and panties.

I am shocked, sir--SHOCKED!--that you would think that I intend to strip Professor Davis so completely of her, ah, dignity in the course of this adventure.<p>
On the other hand, :idea:

05-29-2015, 04:28 PM
THANK YOU - that's a wonderful start to a most interesting series indeed !!

05-30-2015, 04:30 AM
Very well done. Imaginative in both the character and the world. Bravo.

05-31-2015, 06:25 AM
Incredible affair. Both for Hannah, and your writing. Hooked from beginning to end. The Alice in Wonderland vibe is just the icing on the cake. Bravo. I look forward to more.

05-31-2015, 11:12 AM