This was something kind of wierd I came up with quite some time ago, but never thought it was good enough to post. Thought I'd at least try the first chapter.
CHAPTER ONE
My name is Gulliver. You have heard of me, I am certain, as the word of my adventures has been traveling across England for the last 40 years, ever since I returned. Parts, especially those dealing with the Lilliputians have even been turned into bedtime stories for little children. No, you probably don’t believe a word of any of it, but you have heard of me.
What I will relate to you now is a tale that you haven’t heard before, because I have kept it a secret all these years. In fact, I have tried hard to forget this part of my journeys, desperately wanting to push these memories out of my mind. As I relate my missing narrative to you, you will undoubtedly understand why. Had I published this account with my others, it would have brought me untold humiliation and my family unbearable pain. The civil authorities would have declared me insane and I would have never been released from that sanitarium they first placed me in.
If that is true, you may ask, why do I impart this information now? Currently, I am lying upon my deathbed. As embarrassment cannot follow me past the grave, and my family has largely dispersed, I fear the repercussions far less than I did as a younger man. More importantly, as I grow closer to the afterlife, I find myself becoming more and more convinced that my spectacular adventures happened for a reason, and that god brought me safely home to spread word of them. Perhaps so wiser men than myself can render some kernel of wisdom from them, I suppose.
Before I begin, let me warn you, this tale is not for the squeamish. By no means should any child be permitted to read it. Husbands, give serious thought before allowing your wives to read it as well. Some of the information held within could be dangerous to you should your lady desire you ill. At any rate, consider yourselves warned.
This tale begins about a week after I had escaped from Brobdingnag, the land of giants compared to whom I was no bigger than a mouse. As before, the strange seas I found myself in battled and bruised my body and my raft, and the food supplies I had managed to smuggle with me were running low. When I saw land, I eagerly paddled for it.
Having found the inhabitants of Lilliput and Brobdingnag so peculiar and dangerous, I entered this third land with caution. This time I was determined to find the residents of this isle before they found me, and decide if I should reveal myself to them. If I did not like what I saw, I would merely harvest some food from one of the gardens, repair my raft and be gone before they caught sight of me.
The beach I found myself on seemed deserted, and I quickly dragged my raft over the sand to a nearby grove of trees. There I hid my sole mode of escape and began walking inland. Soon I was quickly immersed in a sea of vegetation, and could see no more than a few feet around me.
As I walked, I studied the plants and trees that grew around me. Most I recognized from my studies of botany, though they were frequently larger than any specimens I had seen and quite exotic. From these I harvested a few berries and pieces of fruit, though not nearly enough to satisfy my hunger. There were also plants I had never seen during my studies. These I avoided even though some had fruit that looked more delectable than those I was eating.
After a walk of nearly an hour, the trees began to thin, and I saw a village in the distance. To my immense relief, the houses were neither gigantic nor microscopic. As I got closer, I could see nothing unusual about it at all. The hamlet looked like any number of ones you would see on the road between London and York. This gave me the courage to get closer.
The village was surrounded by gardens of all types. There were some tomato plants and apple trees, but mostly they seemed to be growing the strange fruits I could not identify. I could feel my stomach growl at the sight of them.
More than hunger drew me out of the woods. I suddenly felt a pang of loneliness, a need to be around man like myself. I had been so long since I had talked to others like myself. Still, if I learned nothing in Lilliput and Brobdingnag it was caution, so when I did creep from the forest, it was to hide myself in one of the thicker gardens so I could get a glance of these people before revealing myself.
And when I did, I was astonished. They were women! Six or seven of the most gorgeous creatures I have ever seen left the village at the same time and headed for the gardens carrying baskets. As they began harvesting the fruit, I could not help but stare. Each one had a perfect figure, slender but with ample bosoms and curvaceous at the hip. Most had blonde hair that sparkled like gold in a clear mountain stream. Those few with dark hair were no less lovely, as it was the color of midnight and seemed so soft I was surprised it did not melt.
The garments the women wore would have been scandalous in England. They were simple white robes, but with the hem line rising to mid thigh, and the bust cut low and tight. There skin was tanned an almost golden color, and needed no gems or jewelry to adorn them.
I don’t know how long I hid there watching those women. They were so graceful, they could make the simple act of picking fruit more elegant than any dance I’ve ever seen done in the king’s court. So caught up in their movements that it was only when I heard the rustling of branches practically at my feet did I know I’d been discovered.
I looked up to see her face gleaming in reflected sunlight. Her eyes were bluer that the sea I had spent so many days crossing. I could feel my breath catch in my throat and found I could not speak. I wanted to reassure her, to tell her I meant no harm, but all I could do was stare like an imbecile.
She should have screamed and run away in fear. After all, my many days at sea had left my clothes torn and tattered. My face and body was covered with dirt, and my hair was a long, tangled mess. And here I was, looking like a monster, hiding in her garden! She should have been terrified.
But she wasn’t. The woman smiled a smile of innocence and warmth and reached out her hand to me.
“You poor man,” she said in a musical voice, in a tone that angels must use, “You must be lost. Let me help you.”
I could only glare rudely at her while she waited with what seemed infinite patience. Eventually, I reached for her hand. It was soft as silk, far more delicate than any farm laborers ever could be. At first contact, I could feel my manhood try to swell, and an embarrassed flush started across my cheeks. (In my defense of my self-control, it had been months since I’d seen my wife, and neither Lilliputian nor Brobdingnagian woman could be looked at sexually anymore than a mare or doe could. I was going from famine to feast!)
If the woman noticed my…growth, she gave no indication. She effortlessly helped me to my feet, and than with a toss of her shining blond braids, spoke again. “My name is Corina. What’s yours?”
“G…Gulliver,” I stammered out. There was so much I wanted to say to this beauty, but still couldn’t. Even though I was more t
han a full head taller and fifty pounds heavier than her, I felt dwarfed by Corina.
“Well, Gulliver,” Corina said, “You must be starving. Let me take you to my house. I’m not the best cook in the village, but I’m sure you will have no complaints about the food.” She smiled again, and my heart melted. She started leading me across through the plants, and I followed. I would have followed even if she had said she was taking me to the gates of hell.
As we walked, the other fruit pickers stopped working and watched us. As Corina and I got into the village, more and more women, each as beautiful as the others, came out of their homes. None made any effort to talk to Corina or even each other. They just stared. Remembering my swollen manhood, my face got redder and redder.
Corina never paused as she led me to her house near the center of the village, but turned and gifted me with a smile every now that helped ease my embarrassment. Still, I was relieved when we finally got inside and away from all those eyes. Her house was simply decorated, with few thrills or luxuries, but still held a rustic charm. She set me at a wooden table and disappeared behind a door to cook dinner.
By the time Corina had returned, I had mostly recovered my senses and control of my manhood, and had thought of a few questions I’d like to ask, but when Corina returned, she put a plate of food in front of me. It was simple, but smelled and tasted so good, all I could do for the next twenty minutes was eat.
Corina made no attempt at conversation as I ate, nor did she eat herself. She just sipped a clear liquid from a clay mug and watched me. She kept that warm smile on her face, but her eyes now held a calculating look, as if she were trying to plan some kind of strategy. Sadly, I was too consumed by the food to notice.
When I had finished eating, I asked Corina some polite questions about her community and their local customs. She easily brushed them aside, giving me no information other than the name of the island, Lodive.
“Tell me, Corina,” I asked, “Why were all the women staring at us?”
“They were just curious. We don’t get visitors often.”
“If that’s true, aren’t they worried about you? Aren’t you worried? I mean, you’ve taken a strange man into your house,” I paused for effect. “You could be in danger from me, you know.”
Corina’s smile only got bigger. “They think I can take care of myself,” she responded mysteriously.
“What about the men?” They couldn’t be as naïve as the women of the village seemed to be, “Where are they, anyway? I don’t think I saw any on our way here.”
“The men are off…hunting wild animals and protecting the village.” The tone of Corina’s voice changed slightly, and I wondered if I’d hit a nerve.
“What about the old men and boys? Surely they wouldn’t be…”
“They must have stayed in their homes,” Corina cut me off. She wasn’t angry, but there was a very firm tone in her voice. “Men aren’t as curious as women are. They probably had no desire to see a stranger.”
That didn’t sound right to me. In the village of my birth, some of the older men were the bigger gossips than any fishwife I’ve
ever met. Now that I was talking, other questions started entering my mind. What were the men protecting the village from? Were the animals they were hunting dangerous? Was Corina engaged or married to any of those men? Would it be considered proper for a strange man to stay at her house if she was or even if she was single? But I didn’t ask any of them, as I was worried I would upset my host.
“You must be tired,” the warmth returning to Corina’s voice, “Before you sleep, you should bathe. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable without all that filth covering your body.”
I could only bow my head in shame. How foul I must look compared with this ravishing beauty! I’m sure my odor was equally repellent.
“Come,” she said giving my hand a caress, “You’ll be a new man before you know it.” Her smile seemed even more brilliant than it had outdoors, and all questions fled from my mind.
She led me to a small room that had a tub of steamy water in it. The tub hadn’t been filled much, only maybe six inches or so, but only those who have had to do without such amenities could completely understand the depths of my gratitude for such a blessing. I turned to thank my host, but she was gone.
I quickly stripped off my rags and lowered myself into the tub. Heaven! Soon, I had several layers of dirt stripped from by body. I leaned back in the tub, feeling muscles in my back and legs relax and sighed deeply. Only a bar of soap and a razor would have made the experience more joyful.
I was startled from my state of relaxation by the sound of the door opening. Corina was standing there, her white robe discarded and wearing nothing to replace it. I could never do her naked body justice. Her thighs and calves were firm, her belly taut and her breasts full. Nothing on her sagged or drooped. Corina’s hair had been loosened, and it fell easily across her shoulders. Now that I’m close to the grave, I can say Corina’s body is easily the most stunning thing I have ever seen in my long and full life.
For one eternal moment, I was more tempted than Faust ever had been. I wanted discard my Christian beliefs, rise from the tub, and take Corina’s body in my arms. I wanted to sate my lust built up from long days alone at see or in the company of the tiny and gigantic. I wanted her.
And in a moment of self-control that I hope earns me eternal paradise, I remembered I was an English gentlemen, ignored my now fully rigid member, and refused her.
“Corina,” I said, covering my naked body, “In my country this is not done. I must bathe alone. Please leave.” Only God knows how those words made my heartbreak and my body ache.
Yet Corina didn’t leave. She kept walking towards me, holding a small jar in one hand. “As host, it is my duty to wash you,” she said simply.
As Corina came closer, I looked for anything to cover myself, but couldn’t find even the smallest piece of cloth. “Please, Corina, respect my wishes.” I pleaded.
Corina didn’t answer. She just kept coming. When she reached the edge of the tub, I stood up, determined to push her away. I didn’t want to hurt the small girl, but she must know my rejection was serious!
Before I could react, Corina put her hand on my shoulder, and gently pushed me back into the tub. Her strength was tremendous! My legs buckled immediately, and before I knew it, I was lying on my back, staring up into Corina’s blue eyes.
“Be a good boy, Gulliver,” Corina said, “and you won’t get hurt.”
I tried to get up again, but this time I found Corina’s naked body pressing down on me. I struggled, but would have had an easier time getting out from underneath an elephant. I couldn’t help but get excited even as I struggled. Her skin was softer than silk, but I just beneath was firm, solid flesh. One of her perfect breasts was in my face, and for just a second a pert nipple grazed my lips, making my mouth water.
“Corina!” I screamed, both of my hands on her shoulders and pushing with all my might. I couldn’t budge her slender body an inch! Corina didn’t even seem to be struggling to keep me down and was barely concerned with my efforts. She didn’t even need to use her arms. Her chest and legs had me pushed flat against the bottom of the tub while her hands were busy with scooping a white paste out of her jar.
“We must get Gulliver all nice in clean,” Corina said in a voice that a nanny might use with one of her charges. Then her long fingers were on my ribcage, staring near my stomach, and wiggling up towards my underarms.
“HEHE EHE E EHEHE EHE STAAAWWPPP EHEHEHEH EHEH NO NONONONO CORRRINNAAA HEHE EHEHEHEH EHEH EHEHEHEH DONN’TTTT EHEHEHEHEHE EH E EH EHE EH!!!!!!” The white paste made her fingers as slippery as a fresh fish, and they were squeezing my each and every rib. It tickled more than anything I’d ever felt, and I couldn’t help laughing at the top of my lungs.
“Awe, is little Gulliver ticklish,” Corina chanted, her fingers climbing higher on my ribcage. I grabbed Corina’s wrists and tried to pull her hands off my body, but I might as well have tried to pull an oak tree out of the ground by pulling on its branches. I couldn’t budge those delicate hands an inch. “OK, Gulliver,” Corina said, “You want my hands to stay here? Is this better?” Corina stopped moving her hands up my sides and started digging her fingers into the rib they had been skating over. Then she poked her fingers into the space between two ribs, forcing me to laugh harder and harder.
“AEEHE EHEHE EHEHE EHEH E E EE E E E ENONONONONONNO HEHEH EHHE E EHEHE E E EHEHHHEHEHEHEHEHEH MMMEEERRRCCCCYYYY EHEH EHEHEH EHEH E EHEH EHEHEH E EH E EHEH E EHEHEHH NOOONONONONONNONONO!!!!!!”
“I don’t think Gulliver likes this too much” Corina smiled. She easily broke the grip I had on her wrists and started moving her hands upwards once again. I tried to cover my sides now, protect my sensitive flesh, but Corina’s slick hands easily wormed underneath my arms. I started kicking my feet in frustration as the tickling more and more overwhelmed me.
“If my baby likes this, he’ll love what’s coming up.” With that pronouncement, Corina slid her hands into my underarms, forcing me to howl like a stuck pig. My body began spasming as I clamped my arms tightly against my side. That did nothing to stop Corina’s fingers from swirling around the hollows of my armpits.
“Yes, laugh for me Gulliver,” Corina teased. She was straddling my waist now, and I could feel my rock-hard manhood pressed against her thigh. She drilled her fingers deep into the centers of my armpits, running them through the sparse clump of hair. Soon, I couldn’t feel Corina’s tight body on top of me, or the hot water on my back. Only the nerves under my arms seemed to be working, and they were in agony.
I had no idea who I was or where I was, but I could feel every twitch of one of Corina’s fingers as if they were daggers cutting into my flesh. The tears that came unbidden to my eyes blinded me as a laughed harder than I’d ever done in my life and begged her to stop.
Finally, after what might have been five years or five seconds, she did. It took a few minutes before I felt the heat of her thighs pressed against me, or for my vision to clear enough to see her breasts hung only inches from my face. I as exhausted as a day rowing on my raft, and my breathing was ragged.
“Why…why are you doing this,” I managed to gasp, still trying to regain my senses.
“Can’t I just want to have fun with you?’ Corina’s smile now was cruel, not warm and I was afraid.
“Please stop,” I said simply with as much heartfelt emotion as I could. Throughout the rest of my ordeal, I tried to push Corina away. Nothing I did, no matter what part of her body I tried to push or pull moved her an inch or slowed the tickling for an instant!
“Put this on,” Corina held out a leather collar, the kind put on dogs. Humiliation welled up inside me. My pride as an adult man of the British Empire forced me to shake my head no.
With an evil grin, Corina dropped the collar and attacked my stomach. She raked her hands across my belly, forcing a squeal out of me that would have done a pig justice. Ten fingernails ripping across my abdomen soon had me screaming with laughter again.
Even though my journeys had built up a fair amount of muscle on my body, my years of being a sedentary professor still left their toll. My belly was still covered by a thin layer of downy fat, and Corina was soon pinching that softness, or rolling it between her fingers. Before I could get used to that sensation, Corina’s fingers poking deeper into my hard muscles, making me almost jump out of the tub.
“Do you want to wear it?” Corina asked, now squeezing his sides and making Gulliver laugh harder and harder. Her breast was back in my face, and her nipple caressing my cheek. Part of me wanted to give in to her. Part of me wanted to belong to her.
“HA AHE AHAHA AHAHA NOOO NOO COLLAAARRHA AHA AHAH AHAH AH A AHH NOOO WAAANNTT HAHA H AHAH AHAH SHHAAAMMEE HAH AHA AHHAHA A AH!!!”
“Is your dignity worth this? Poor Gulliver. I don’t have to stop, you know. I can torture you all night! Goochie goochie goo, ticklish little Gulliver!” It tickled, but it didn’t tickle as much as the underarms had. Despite the tickling and Corina’s naked flesh, was determined to fight her somehow. I don’t know why Corina wanted me to wear a dog collar, but it couldn’t have been good.
Then she started drilling her fingertips into my hipbones, and all conscious thought faded again. I screamed with laughter, begging and pleading. Corina started squeezing my upper thigh, then moving back to my waist. I threw my weight from side to side, making the tub rock with my efforts to escape the torment.
Then the tickling stopped. Even in my delirium I could feel Corina’s weight sliding down my legs, and I could hope for a second that my ordeal was over. It wasn’t.
Corina buried her head into my stomach and began nibbling my tender flesh with her teeth. It tickled so badly I couldn’t making a noise. I had no air. After her teeth skimmed their way across my skin, Corina’s tongue began sliding across it, wiggling like a worm, traveling in circles and pressing downward. When that tongue slurped into my belly button again, I lost it for real.
Corina’s body now stopped my legs from kicking, so I started slamming my fists into the sides of the tub while white lights exploded in front of my eyes. Corina’s hands started pinching my sides again, while fire burned in my lungs and my back ached in an agony/ecstasy I’d never known before.
I was deep into silent laughter now, but Corina must have slowed her tickling or taken brief pauses, because somehow I have getting quick breaths in. I think I may have been squeaking like a squirrel, because I kept hearing odd noises I knew weren’t coming from Corina.
Corina’s hands kept sliding from my thighs to my ribcage and back down again, while her mouth nibbled and licked from my waist to my nipples. With one hand I was futilely trying to push her off of me, while the other stopped pounding into the side of the tub and was groping for something.
Corina’s fingers were so close to my underarms now, dangerously close to my hollows, while her mouth was skating closer to my bellybutton again. It felt like my lungs were going to rip themselves to be ripped to pieces by all the laughter I couldn’t get out of my throat. My body was trembling at Corina’s every touch.
Inside my brain I was screaming louder than a police siren. It felt like every inch of my body was on fire, being tickled, being tortured. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop it. I pushed and pushed at the immovable object that was Corina and felt myself going insane.
Then my groping hand fell upon the object that, unbeknownst to my brain it had been searching for. The dog collar. Through the utter hysteria and chaos that was ravaging my body, I could feel the wet leather and metal buckle clearly. I thrust it up in the air like a trophy, then dropped it on my neck. Mercifully, oblivion followed.
CHAPTER ONE
My name is Gulliver. You have heard of me, I am certain, as the word of my adventures has been traveling across England for the last 40 years, ever since I returned. Parts, especially those dealing with the Lilliputians have even been turned into bedtime stories for little children. No, you probably don’t believe a word of any of it, but you have heard of me.
What I will relate to you now is a tale that you haven’t heard before, because I have kept it a secret all these years. In fact, I have tried hard to forget this part of my journeys, desperately wanting to push these memories out of my mind. As I relate my missing narrative to you, you will undoubtedly understand why. Had I published this account with my others, it would have brought me untold humiliation and my family unbearable pain. The civil authorities would have declared me insane and I would have never been released from that sanitarium they first placed me in.
If that is true, you may ask, why do I impart this information now? Currently, I am lying upon my deathbed. As embarrassment cannot follow me past the grave, and my family has largely dispersed, I fear the repercussions far less than I did as a younger man. More importantly, as I grow closer to the afterlife, I find myself becoming more and more convinced that my spectacular adventures happened for a reason, and that god brought me safely home to spread word of them. Perhaps so wiser men than myself can render some kernel of wisdom from them, I suppose.
Before I begin, let me warn you, this tale is not for the squeamish. By no means should any child be permitted to read it. Husbands, give serious thought before allowing your wives to read it as well. Some of the information held within could be dangerous to you should your lady desire you ill. At any rate, consider yourselves warned.
This tale begins about a week after I had escaped from Brobdingnag, the land of giants compared to whom I was no bigger than a mouse. As before, the strange seas I found myself in battled and bruised my body and my raft, and the food supplies I had managed to smuggle with me were running low. When I saw land, I eagerly paddled for it.
Having found the inhabitants of Lilliput and Brobdingnag so peculiar and dangerous, I entered this third land with caution. This time I was determined to find the residents of this isle before they found me, and decide if I should reveal myself to them. If I did not like what I saw, I would merely harvest some food from one of the gardens, repair my raft and be gone before they caught sight of me.
The beach I found myself on seemed deserted, and I quickly dragged my raft over the sand to a nearby grove of trees. There I hid my sole mode of escape and began walking inland. Soon I was quickly immersed in a sea of vegetation, and could see no more than a few feet around me.
As I walked, I studied the plants and trees that grew around me. Most I recognized from my studies of botany, though they were frequently larger than any specimens I had seen and quite exotic. From these I harvested a few berries and pieces of fruit, though not nearly enough to satisfy my hunger. There were also plants I had never seen during my studies. These I avoided even though some had fruit that looked more delectable than those I was eating.
After a walk of nearly an hour, the trees began to thin, and I saw a village in the distance. To my immense relief, the houses were neither gigantic nor microscopic. As I got closer, I could see nothing unusual about it at all. The hamlet looked like any number of ones you would see on the road between London and York. This gave me the courage to get closer.
The village was surrounded by gardens of all types. There were some tomato plants and apple trees, but mostly they seemed to be growing the strange fruits I could not identify. I could feel my stomach growl at the sight of them.
More than hunger drew me out of the woods. I suddenly felt a pang of loneliness, a need to be around man like myself. I had been so long since I had talked to others like myself. Still, if I learned nothing in Lilliput and Brobdingnag it was caution, so when I did creep from the forest, it was to hide myself in one of the thicker gardens so I could get a glance of these people before revealing myself.
And when I did, I was astonished. They were women! Six or seven of the most gorgeous creatures I have ever seen left the village at the same time and headed for the gardens carrying baskets. As they began harvesting the fruit, I could not help but stare. Each one had a perfect figure, slender but with ample bosoms and curvaceous at the hip. Most had blonde hair that sparkled like gold in a clear mountain stream. Those few with dark hair were no less lovely, as it was the color of midnight and seemed so soft I was surprised it did not melt.
The garments the women wore would have been scandalous in England. They were simple white robes, but with the hem line rising to mid thigh, and the bust cut low and tight. There skin was tanned an almost golden color, and needed no gems or jewelry to adorn them.
I don’t know how long I hid there watching those women. They were so graceful, they could make the simple act of picking fruit more elegant than any dance I’ve ever seen done in the king’s court. So caught up in their movements that it was only when I heard the rustling of branches practically at my feet did I know I’d been discovered.
I looked up to see her face gleaming in reflected sunlight. Her eyes were bluer that the sea I had spent so many days crossing. I could feel my breath catch in my throat and found I could not speak. I wanted to reassure her, to tell her I meant no harm, but all I could do was stare like an imbecile.
She should have screamed and run away in fear. After all, my many days at sea had left my clothes torn and tattered. My face and body was covered with dirt, and my hair was a long, tangled mess. And here I was, looking like a monster, hiding in her garden! She should have been terrified.
But she wasn’t. The woman smiled a smile of innocence and warmth and reached out her hand to me.
“You poor man,” she said in a musical voice, in a tone that angels must use, “You must be lost. Let me help you.”
I could only glare rudely at her while she waited with what seemed infinite patience. Eventually, I reached for her hand. It was soft as silk, far more delicate than any farm laborers ever could be. At first contact, I could feel my manhood try to swell, and an embarrassed flush started across my cheeks. (In my defense of my self-control, it had been months since I’d seen my wife, and neither Lilliputian nor Brobdingnagian woman could be looked at sexually anymore than a mare or doe could. I was going from famine to feast!)
If the woman noticed my…growth, she gave no indication. She effortlessly helped me to my feet, and than with a toss of her shining blond braids, spoke again. “My name is Corina. What’s yours?”
“G…Gulliver,” I stammered out. There was so much I wanted to say to this beauty, but still couldn’t. Even though I was more t
han a full head taller and fifty pounds heavier than her, I felt dwarfed by Corina.
“Well, Gulliver,” Corina said, “You must be starving. Let me take you to my house. I’m not the best cook in the village, but I’m sure you will have no complaints about the food.” She smiled again, and my heart melted. She started leading me across through the plants, and I followed. I would have followed even if she had said she was taking me to the gates of hell.
As we walked, the other fruit pickers stopped working and watched us. As Corina and I got into the village, more and more women, each as beautiful as the others, came out of their homes. None made any effort to talk to Corina or even each other. They just stared. Remembering my swollen manhood, my face got redder and redder.
Corina never paused as she led me to her house near the center of the village, but turned and gifted me with a smile every now that helped ease my embarrassment. Still, I was relieved when we finally got inside and away from all those eyes. Her house was simply decorated, with few thrills or luxuries, but still held a rustic charm. She set me at a wooden table and disappeared behind a door to cook dinner.
By the time Corina had returned, I had mostly recovered my senses and control of my manhood, and had thought of a few questions I’d like to ask, but when Corina returned, she put a plate of food in front of me. It was simple, but smelled and tasted so good, all I could do for the next twenty minutes was eat.
Corina made no attempt at conversation as I ate, nor did she eat herself. She just sipped a clear liquid from a clay mug and watched me. She kept that warm smile on her face, but her eyes now held a calculating look, as if she were trying to plan some kind of strategy. Sadly, I was too consumed by the food to notice.
When I had finished eating, I asked Corina some polite questions about her community and their local customs. She easily brushed them aside, giving me no information other than the name of the island, Lodive.
“Tell me, Corina,” I asked, “Why were all the women staring at us?”
“They were just curious. We don’t get visitors often.”
“If that’s true, aren’t they worried about you? Aren’t you worried? I mean, you’ve taken a strange man into your house,” I paused for effect. “You could be in danger from me, you know.”
Corina’s smile only got bigger. “They think I can take care of myself,” she responded mysteriously.
“What about the men?” They couldn’t be as naïve as the women of the village seemed to be, “Where are they, anyway? I don’t think I saw any on our way here.”
“The men are off…hunting wild animals and protecting the village.” The tone of Corina’s voice changed slightly, and I wondered if I’d hit a nerve.
“What about the old men and boys? Surely they wouldn’t be…”
“They must have stayed in their homes,” Corina cut me off. She wasn’t angry, but there was a very firm tone in her voice. “Men aren’t as curious as women are. They probably had no desire to see a stranger.”
That didn’t sound right to me. In the village of my birth, some of the older men were the bigger gossips than any fishwife I’ve
ever met. Now that I was talking, other questions started entering my mind. What were the men protecting the village from? Were the animals they were hunting dangerous? Was Corina engaged or married to any of those men? Would it be considered proper for a strange man to stay at her house if she was or even if she was single? But I didn’t ask any of them, as I was worried I would upset my host.
“You must be tired,” the warmth returning to Corina’s voice, “Before you sleep, you should bathe. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable without all that filth covering your body.”
I could only bow my head in shame. How foul I must look compared with this ravishing beauty! I’m sure my odor was equally repellent.
“Come,” she said giving my hand a caress, “You’ll be a new man before you know it.” Her smile seemed even more brilliant than it had outdoors, and all questions fled from my mind.
She led me to a small room that had a tub of steamy water in it. The tub hadn’t been filled much, only maybe six inches or so, but only those who have had to do without such amenities could completely understand the depths of my gratitude for such a blessing. I turned to thank my host, but she was gone.
I quickly stripped off my rags and lowered myself into the tub. Heaven! Soon, I had several layers of dirt stripped from by body. I leaned back in the tub, feeling muscles in my back and legs relax and sighed deeply. Only a bar of soap and a razor would have made the experience more joyful.
I was startled from my state of relaxation by the sound of the door opening. Corina was standing there, her white robe discarded and wearing nothing to replace it. I could never do her naked body justice. Her thighs and calves were firm, her belly taut and her breasts full. Nothing on her sagged or drooped. Corina’s hair had been loosened, and it fell easily across her shoulders. Now that I’m close to the grave, I can say Corina’s body is easily the most stunning thing I have ever seen in my long and full life.
For one eternal moment, I was more tempted than Faust ever had been. I wanted discard my Christian beliefs, rise from the tub, and take Corina’s body in my arms. I wanted to sate my lust built up from long days alone at see or in the company of the tiny and gigantic. I wanted her.
And in a moment of self-control that I hope earns me eternal paradise, I remembered I was an English gentlemen, ignored my now fully rigid member, and refused her.
“Corina,” I said, covering my naked body, “In my country this is not done. I must bathe alone. Please leave.” Only God knows how those words made my heartbreak and my body ache.
Yet Corina didn’t leave. She kept walking towards me, holding a small jar in one hand. “As host, it is my duty to wash you,” she said simply.
As Corina came closer, I looked for anything to cover myself, but couldn’t find even the smallest piece of cloth. “Please, Corina, respect my wishes.” I pleaded.
Corina didn’t answer. She just kept coming. When she reached the edge of the tub, I stood up, determined to push her away. I didn’t want to hurt the small girl, but she must know my rejection was serious!
Before I could react, Corina put her hand on my shoulder, and gently pushed me back into the tub. Her strength was tremendous! My legs buckled immediately, and before I knew it, I was lying on my back, staring up into Corina’s blue eyes.
“Be a good boy, Gulliver,” Corina said, “and you won’t get hurt.”
I tried to get up again, but this time I found Corina’s naked body pressing down on me. I struggled, but would have had an easier time getting out from underneath an elephant. I couldn’t help but get excited even as I struggled. Her skin was softer than silk, but I just beneath was firm, solid flesh. One of her perfect breasts was in my face, and for just a second a pert nipple grazed my lips, making my mouth water.
“Corina!” I screamed, both of my hands on her shoulders and pushing with all my might. I couldn’t budge her slender body an inch! Corina didn’t even seem to be struggling to keep me down and was barely concerned with my efforts. She didn’t even need to use her arms. Her chest and legs had me pushed flat against the bottom of the tub while her hands were busy with scooping a white paste out of her jar.
“We must get Gulliver all nice in clean,” Corina said in a voice that a nanny might use with one of her charges. Then her long fingers were on my ribcage, staring near my stomach, and wiggling up towards my underarms.
“HEHE EHE E EHEHE EHE STAAAWWPPP EHEHEHEH EHEH NO NONONONO CORRRINNAAA HEHE EHEHEHEH EHEH EHEHEHEH DONN’TTTT EHEHEHEHEHE EH E EH EHE EH!!!!!!” The white paste made her fingers as slippery as a fresh fish, and they were squeezing my each and every rib. It tickled more than anything I’d ever felt, and I couldn’t help laughing at the top of my lungs.
“Awe, is little Gulliver ticklish,” Corina chanted, her fingers climbing higher on my ribcage. I grabbed Corina’s wrists and tried to pull her hands off my body, but I might as well have tried to pull an oak tree out of the ground by pulling on its branches. I couldn’t budge those delicate hands an inch. “OK, Gulliver,” Corina said, “You want my hands to stay here? Is this better?” Corina stopped moving her hands up my sides and started digging her fingers into the rib they had been skating over. Then she poked her fingers into the space between two ribs, forcing me to laugh harder and harder.
“AEEHE EHEHE EHEHE EHEH E E EE E E E ENONONONONONNO HEHEH EHHE E EHEHE E E EHEHHHEHEHEHEHEHEH MMMEEERRRCCCCYYYY EHEH EHEHEH EHEH E EHEH EHEHEH E EH E EHEH E EHEHEHH NOOONONONONONNONONO!!!!!!”
“I don’t think Gulliver likes this too much” Corina smiled. She easily broke the grip I had on her wrists and started moving her hands upwards once again. I tried to cover my sides now, protect my sensitive flesh, but Corina’s slick hands easily wormed underneath my arms. I started kicking my feet in frustration as the tickling more and more overwhelmed me.
“If my baby likes this, he’ll love what’s coming up.” With that pronouncement, Corina slid her hands into my underarms, forcing me to howl like a stuck pig. My body began spasming as I clamped my arms tightly against my side. That did nothing to stop Corina’s fingers from swirling around the hollows of my armpits.
“Yes, laugh for me Gulliver,” Corina teased. She was straddling my waist now, and I could feel my rock-hard manhood pressed against her thigh. She drilled her fingers deep into the centers of my armpits, running them through the sparse clump of hair. Soon, I couldn’t feel Corina’s tight body on top of me, or the hot water on my back. Only the nerves under my arms seemed to be working, and they were in agony.
I had no idea who I was or where I was, but I could feel every twitch of one of Corina’s fingers as if they were daggers cutting into my flesh. The tears that came unbidden to my eyes blinded me as a laughed harder than I’d ever done in my life and begged her to stop.
Finally, after what might have been five years or five seconds, she did. It took a few minutes before I felt the heat of her thighs pressed against me, or for my vision to clear enough to see her breasts hung only inches from my face. I as exhausted as a day rowing on my raft, and my breathing was ragged.
“Why…why are you doing this,” I managed to gasp, still trying to regain my senses.
“Can’t I just want to have fun with you?’ Corina’s smile now was cruel, not warm and I was afraid.
“Please stop,” I said simply with as much heartfelt emotion as I could. Throughout the rest of my ordeal, I tried to push Corina away. Nothing I did, no matter what part of her body I tried to push or pull moved her an inch or slowed the tickling for an instant!
“Put this on,” Corina held out a leather collar, the kind put on dogs. Humiliation welled up inside me. My pride as an adult man of the British Empire forced me to shake my head no.
With an evil grin, Corina dropped the collar and attacked my stomach. She raked her hands across my belly, forcing a squeal out of me that would have done a pig justice. Ten fingernails ripping across my abdomen soon had me screaming with laughter again.
Even though my journeys had built up a fair amount of muscle on my body, my years of being a sedentary professor still left their toll. My belly was still covered by a thin layer of downy fat, and Corina was soon pinching that softness, or rolling it between her fingers. Before I could get used to that sensation, Corina’s fingers poking deeper into my hard muscles, making me almost jump out of the tub.
“Do you want to wear it?” Corina asked, now squeezing his sides and making Gulliver laugh harder and harder. Her breast was back in my face, and her nipple caressing my cheek. Part of me wanted to give in to her. Part of me wanted to belong to her.
“HA AHE AHAHA AHAHA NOOO NOO COLLAAARRHA AHA AHAH AHAH AH A AHH NOOO WAAANNTT HAHA H AHAH AHAH SHHAAAMMEE HAH AHA AHHAHA A AH!!!”
“Is your dignity worth this? Poor Gulliver. I don’t have to stop, you know. I can torture you all night! Goochie goochie goo, ticklish little Gulliver!” It tickled, but it didn’t tickle as much as the underarms had. Despite the tickling and Corina’s naked flesh, was determined to fight her somehow. I don’t know why Corina wanted me to wear a dog collar, but it couldn’t have been good.
Then she started drilling her fingertips into my hipbones, and all conscious thought faded again. I screamed with laughter, begging and pleading. Corina started squeezing my upper thigh, then moving back to my waist. I threw my weight from side to side, making the tub rock with my efforts to escape the torment.
Then the tickling stopped. Even in my delirium I could feel Corina’s weight sliding down my legs, and I could hope for a second that my ordeal was over. It wasn’t.
Corina buried her head into my stomach and began nibbling my tender flesh with her teeth. It tickled so badly I couldn’t making a noise. I had no air. After her teeth skimmed their way across my skin, Corina’s tongue began sliding across it, wiggling like a worm, traveling in circles and pressing downward. When that tongue slurped into my belly button again, I lost it for real.
Corina’s body now stopped my legs from kicking, so I started slamming my fists into the sides of the tub while white lights exploded in front of my eyes. Corina’s hands started pinching my sides again, while fire burned in my lungs and my back ached in an agony/ecstasy I’d never known before.
I was deep into silent laughter now, but Corina must have slowed her tickling or taken brief pauses, because somehow I have getting quick breaths in. I think I may have been squeaking like a squirrel, because I kept hearing odd noises I knew weren’t coming from Corina.
Corina’s hands kept sliding from my thighs to my ribcage and back down again, while her mouth nibbled and licked from my waist to my nipples. With one hand I was futilely trying to push her off of me, while the other stopped pounding into the side of the tub and was groping for something.
Corina’s fingers were so close to my underarms now, dangerously close to my hollows, while her mouth was skating closer to my bellybutton again. It felt like my lungs were going to rip themselves to be ripped to pieces by all the laughter I couldn’t get out of my throat. My body was trembling at Corina’s every touch.
Inside my brain I was screaming louder than a police siren. It felt like every inch of my body was on fire, being tickled, being tortured. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop it. I pushed and pushed at the immovable object that was Corina and felt myself going insane.
Then my groping hand fell upon the object that, unbeknownst to my brain it had been searching for. The dog collar. Through the utter hysteria and chaos that was ravaging my body, I could feel the wet leather and metal buckle clearly. I thrust it up in the air like a trophy, then dropped it on my neck. Mercifully, oblivion followed.
