laughter_n_love
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A long time ago, in a land far, far from here, in a little village named Riverglenn that bordered the Dark Wood, there lived a girl named Adrianna. In truth, she was no girl, but lass of twenty and one years, with tresses of gold and the face of an angel. But Adrianna was no angel. On the contrary, she was quite something of a vixen. She tortured the boys of the village, always promising them kisses and more, and always dashing off before delivering. She inspired great jealousy in the other girls, for none were as popular or as lovely as she, and it was unfair that she should steal all the attention. To the men of the village she was a mixed blessing. By far, she was the most fetching maiden that there was to set eyes upon in this part of the world. They could not help but stop and stare at her passing. But she teased them most horribly. Whether it was her devilishly charming and suggestive way of speaking, or the cut of her dresses that revealed just a bit too much, or how she touched their arms and giggled merrily at their jokes, or how she never failed to flip her hair and wink as she bid farewell, it was no wonder that there wasn't a man alive who did not lie awake some nights, dreaming of her and cursing the woman he lay beside. The women of the village resented her greatly, both for the reasons named above, and for her way of always escaping retribution. Adrianna caused much disruption in the households and business of the village, yet she never seemed to get what was coming to her. She was both the most famous and infamous person in Riverglenn at the same time, and she was always up to no good.
It was no different on that perfectly lovely Autumn morning when this tale begins. Adrianna was out picking flowers, far from the road, and dangerously close to the edge of the Dark Wood. She had a little basket full of them. Now that might not seem like mischief to you and me, but in Riverglenn, the unauthorized picking of flowers is forbidden. The village was renowned for it's flowers, and most of the families who lived there made their livings off the careful harvesting and sale of these flowers. So, in effect, what Adrianna was doing was taking food off the plates of the hard working men and women who had carefully cultivated this field. Not only that, but she planned on wearing a few of them in her hair, and had already cooked up a wonderful story about the different boys that she would claim had given them to her as a gift. Oh, what a scandal it would be!
She was quite lost in her devious thoughts when a scream interrupted the perfect morning air. A scream that came from within the Dark Wood! Adrianna was terrified. Her initial reaction was turn and run as fast as she could back to the village, but a second scream, more horrible and tortured than the first, rooted her in fear to the spot where she stood. She trembled, unable to move, unsure at how to act. While she was neither brave nor heroic, there was something desperate in those screams that played on her sympathy. Someone was in pain and needed help, and as far as she knew, she was the only one around who had heard these cries.
Steeling her courage, she tentatively crept towards the edge of the woods. A third scream startled her so much she nearly screamed herself, and it took all of her willpower not to give up this idea of helping and run for safety herself. But whatever was making those terrible shrieks needed assistance, and quickly.
She pushed past the leaves and low hanging branches, entering the dense Dark Wood for the first time in her young life. Dark Wood was no place for women and children, especially comely women who were barely older than a child. She peered through the blackness and the trees, seeking the source of the painful cries. As she advanced, she was sure to glance back over her shoulder, never letting the edge of the tree line out of her sight. Her path was well chosen should she decide to turn and run. Turns out she should have.
Not far into the trees, she heard the distinct sounds of a woman's sobbing. Adrianna turned and headed cautiously in that direction, until low and behold, she stumbled across the cause of her quest.
Lying on the floor of the woods was a witch. How did Adrianna know she was a witch? The woman wore a long black cloak, and a black and crooked pointy hat, and her skin was pale and unappealing, and she had a large wart on the tip of her nose. Adrianna had never seen a witch before, but she was fairly certain she was seeing one now.
The witch was caught under the heavy branch of a tree that had suddenly snapped and fallen upon her. Her legs looked to be getting mightily crushed under the weight of the branch, and she was desperately trying to claw her way out. Her pain was evident, and she was close to fainting away when she spotted Adrianna standing just a few feet away.
"Girl! Quickly! Come help me!" the witch cried excitedly.
"Are you a witch?" Adrianna asked, acting as though they were casually conversing in the street, and the poor woman before her was not trapped under a heavy branch.
"Yes, of course I'm a witch!" the witch cried. "Now please, help me lift this branch!"
"And if I do, you shall give me your enchanted hat?"
"What? My hat? No, foolish girl! Now quit jabbering and come help me!" Adrianna did not know if the witch's hat was enchanted or not, nor did she care. Her interest in coming to the aid of the one screaming so painfully had faded once she saw that it was a nasty old witch, and now she was back to being her same old troublesome self.
"Oh well, have it your way. Looks like I shant be helping you then."
"Why you little...Help me at once, you devilish brat!"
"Brat??? Hmmmph!" And with that, she turned and started back towards the edge of Dark Wood.
The witch screeched an unholy screech that sent shivers up Adrianna spine. The girl began to run, fleeing the scene, while the witch hurled profanities after her. The witch's rage boiled over, and in her pain and anger, she hurled a terrible curse down on Adrianna. Adrianna was running as fast as her shapely legs could carry her, so she missed most of the incantation of the witch, but had she stopped and listened, this is what she would have heard:
Tongue that stings!
Boots that fly!
Turns a deaf ear
And a spiteful eye!
Refusing aid
To those in woes,
Let no covering
Adorn those soles!
Perfect teeth!
Perfect hair!
Perfect toes
Now always bear!
Rotten soul
With foulness stink!
Always hear
What thou does think!
Devil girl
Disguised so sweet
Forsaking those
That thou does meet,
In biting cold
And stifling heat
Now forever say,
"Tickle my feet!"
The witch uttered her terrible curse with her dying breath. She expired, trapped under the branch, the pain in her legs and the rage in her heart too much to bear. She did not get to see if her curse had worked, or what it might result in (for curses are not an exact science), but even she could not have imagined how cruel and severe her punishment on Adrianna would turn out to be. It would have pleased her.
Adrianna broke through the edge of the wood and the words of the witch fell off behind her. She ran at full tilt, but felt her delicate booties, which were not designed for running, beginning to fall apart on her feet. She stopped to repair them, but saw they were both completely severed along the seams. They were useless. Stepping out of them, she resumed her run barefoot over the flowery fields, fighting off the giggles caused by the tickling grass. It was only after she reached the safety of Riverglenn that she turned back and looked to Dark Wood, and seeing no witch chasing after her, put the incident out of her head.
She took a moment to catch her breath and resume her composure. She might run across many males on her return home, and it would not do to look anything less than her best. Being barefoot did not bother her, as like the rest of her, her feet were quite lovely. It would not do to have blackened soles and mud in her toes however. That concerned her.
She examined her feet and was amazed by what she saw. Her feet were immaculate, as if she had just stepped from the bath. Not a trace of dirt on them. Not a speck of soil or grass. Even the expensive polish she'd weaseled from the town chemist was still shining a bright red on her dainty toes. It was unbelievable that after running for many yards through fields of flower beds that her soles not be as dark as the earth, but there they were, clean, soft, and creamy looking. Adrianna was stupefied.
She puzzled over this as she made her way back to the cottage where she lived with her stepfather. She'd lost her basket of flowers during her adventure of the morning, so soon her mind turned from the mystery of her feet to what new deviltry she could muster. Of all the males in Riverglenn, she teased her stepfather the worst, especially since the death of her mother a few years back. She paraded around the house half nude, and cuddled with him alone in bed where she had no business being, and in general, made his life a living hell. He was the kindest and most respectable of gentlemen, and never took advantage of her when it would have been so easy to do so, so of course she teased him worse than anyone else. If nothing else came up on her way home, she could always torment him for the remainder of the day.
Adrianna's heart was full of mischief as she passed the spot where two boys a few years younger than she were busy putting shoes on a horse. They spotted her and immediately stopped what they were doing to smile in her direction. She thought she might distract herself with these two for a bit before heading home.
The smiles of the boys grew wider as Adrianna approached them. With one of her many looks, they quickly cleared a spot on the bale of hay for her to sit. They sat opposite her on a second bale, grinning broadly to each other as she favored both of their bare upper bodies with her roaming eyes. They knew she had a reputation as a tease, but it only takes one time for a tease to deliver the goods, and for all they knew, today was their lucky day.
"What can we do for you, Miss Adrianna?" the smaller of the two said, giving her a look that told her exactly what they'd like to do for her, and to her. His friend nudged him, and they both snickered, while Adrianna feigned a blush.
"Aren't you naughty lads?" she said coyly.
Well, that's what she thought she said. What the boys heard was a very coy, "Tickle my feet?"
The boys started, shocked by the question thrown so casually out of the blue. They both glanced at her bare and tempting looking feet before exchanging a look of uncertainty.
Adrianna was puzzled by their reaction. They were supposed to melt in her hands, not act like dazed and confused. And they seemed to be taking an interest in her little bare feet. That must have been it. They were shocked to find her barefooted. That was all. If they liked feet, she would give them a little foot tease.
Putting on her best sweet face, she wiggled her toes a little and said, "Are you gentlemen all right?"
Of course, for the second time, the boys heard, "Tickle my feet?"
They needed no further urging. Both boys reached forward and grabbed a hold of one of Adrianna's slender ankles. She squeaked and nearly topped over at being so swiftly manhandled. Before she could register what was happening or make the slightest protest, both boys had her bare feet trapped in their laps and were furiously tickling her naked soles. Adrianna went ballistic.
At this point in the story, it's important to point out to you, the reader, just how unbearably ticklish Adrianna was. At a very young age, Adrianna had gotten it into her head that part of being a devilish little temptress meant being dreadfully ticklish; it seemed that males of all ages found tickling her fun and exciting, and as we already know, Adrianna did everything in her power to excite those males. It was an unfortunate burden to bear, being so excruciatingly ticklish, but Adrianna was long past the point in her development to change her mind about it. Now that she had many other, more obvious, ways of tempting men and boys alike, she could not for the life of her turn off her ticklishness. In fact, it seems that she had grown more ticklish with every passing year. The slightest brush of the hand, or feel of a whispering breath on her skin, or even the blades of grass as she ran barefoot through the fields; all were enough to bring out the giggles in her. It was no wonder then, that two sweaty boys, tightly clutching her ankles and rapidly tickling her ultra sensitive foot bottoms, would cause her to erupt in frenzied laughter at their very first touch.
Adrianna whipped her head from side to side, her long blonde hair tossing about just a half second behind. Her hands pounded uselessly the bale of hay upon which she sat, and her feet wiggled madly in their dirty hands, seeking freedom and finding none. She tugged with the muscles of her legs with what little strength she had, but her petite frame was not built for feats of strength, and the torrent of giggles that flowed uncontrollably from her had only weakened her further. She was helpless to stop their tickling fingers.
The boys were quite enjoying themselves, never seeing Adrianna so reduced to such helplessness, or wriggling and squirming so delightfully. They were under the spell that comes over one when he finds what power there is in tickling a beauty until she is quite broken and desperate. Her feet were like butter in their hands. The contrast and irony was not lost on them. Their hands were rough, and calloused, and dirty from hard labor, and the feet they tortured were so soft and white, delicate and pampered. It was like the serf tickling the Master, or the peon tickling the Noble. And her girlish laugh was like the hands of an angel, lifting their spirits. It felt good to tickle Adrianna like this. It felt right.
"Stop!" Adrianna managed to scream, pleading with her hands. "Please! I can't take anymore!"
"Tickle! Tickle! Tickle my feet!" was what the boys heard. They shrugged and stepped up their efforts. Hard, blackened fingernails dug and scraped the creamy flesh of her soles.
Adrianna knew she was close to tears at this point. This was beyond torture. They obviously intended to tickle her to madness, no matter how much she pleaded with them not to. With a desperate strength she didn't know she possessed, she yanked her ankles free and dashed off like a deer. The two boys were left wondering what had gone wrong. Hadn't she asked to be tickled?
She ran until she reached the back of one of the village's drinking and gambling establishments. Her body trembled from the ordeal, and her feet still tingled as though phantom fingernails still tormented them. She had escaped from the boys just in time. Any more tickling and she would have pitched a fit. What had gotten in to them? Why had they fallen upon her so? She eyed her own feet, and cursed her shoes for falling apart on her. There was no denying that her feet looked especially tempting today, and that in itself was puzzling to her. She was not one to walk around barefoot outside, and yet if anything, it seemed to be making her feet even more attractive than they normally would be. She decided to take care of that little problem at once.
Adrianna found a patch of dirt just outside the tavern. She began to stamp and drag her bare feet through it. If dirty soles and mud between the toes was the price she would have to pay to make her feet undesirable, then so be it. Ticklishness outweighed vanity in this case.
To her horror, no matter how she tried to soil her feet, they refused to look anything but perfect. It was though she were rubbing her soles across a bar of soap. Not a speck of dirty clung to her flesh. Not a spot of mud found it's way between her toes. Adrianna was flabbergasted.
At moment, one of the patrons of the tavern stumbled drunkenly out the back door, looking for a place to relieve himself. He spotted Adrianna stomping about in the mud with his blurry eyes and asked, "What are you doing there, little lady?"
Adrianna was too confused and frightened by the refusal of the mud and her feet to cooperate to flirt with the man or deal with his drunkenness. In fact, for once, she hoped that he would leave her be rather than take an interest in her. "Never you mind," she said, not looking up at him.
"Huh?" Hugo, the drunk, asked. Tickle her what?
Adrianna whirled on him, unleashing her anxiety in his direction. "Mind your own business!"
"Well, you bet I will, my pretty little maiden!" And he scooped her little frame up over his shoulder and carried her back into the tavern. Thoughts of relieving himself were temporarily on hold. If she was going to demand that he tickle her dainty little feet, then by George that's what he was going to do!
She squeaked in protest and being manhandled yet again. What was wrong with everyone today? Why did everyone think they could put their hands on her at will? She pounded on the back of the man carrying her inside, but either he was too drunk or too focused to notice. "Put me down! I said, put me down!"
The game of dice that had been going on at the table inside was interrupted by the return of the man and his screaming, kicking bundle. The other four men at the table stood up in amazement. Here was Hugo, carrying Adrianna, the town tease, over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and all she could scream was, "Tickle my feet!" He dumped her unceremoniously on the table, grinning at his mates.
"Have at'er, gents!"
Although the girl seemed enraged, her demands were clear enough to the five men in the room, so they pounced upon her, pinning her to the table. She struggled and fought like a wildcat, screaming incoherently in between cries of "Tickle my feet!". They set about satisfying her at once.
What followed was pure torture for Adrianna. It took only two or three men to hold her steady to the table, leaving always more than one to tickle her little white feet. The laughter they caused in her was steady and forced, although it sounded like music to their ears. For them, the event was enjoyable on multiple levels. On the surface, they were finally getting to touch the young temptress after years of her mental teasing. Just under the surface was they were doing her bidding, and hoped to do it well enough for her to request more, more intimate, favors of them. And buried deep in their souls, they were secretly pleased at giving her a little taste of hell for all the sleepless nights she'd caused them all. Besides, her feet were so soft and beautiful. It would have been a pleasure to touch them, even if she were not egging them on.
Adrianna was beside herself. Never had she been assaulted so, and never in her worst nightmare's had she envisioned how torturous prolonged foot tickling could be. The men were relentless in their attentions to her soles and toes. She could barely form a rational thought, and when she did manage to scream out some words of protest, they only became more focused on driving her mad.
Unlike her episode with the boys, there was no surge of adrenaline resulting in escape. She remained their barefoot prisoner, each man had more than one turn at tickling her feet. This time, the tears did flow, and she struggled and struggled until all the fight had been tickled out of her and she struggled no more. She gave up on begging for mercy; it only seemed to make things worse. She simple surrendered to the torture, broken and exhausted. It was only after she gave up struggling and fighting back completely that they stopped.
The men looked at her, hopeful expressions on their faces. Had they done well?
She lay panting and coughing on the table, looking up into their stupid blinking faces and taking the opportunity to collect her thoughts. The entire village had gone insane. They were all out to get her, and tickle her insane it seemed. There was no logic to it. It made no sense. Then she remembered the witch. The witch that had put a curse on her! That would explain her feet failing to become soiled. That would explain why everyone seemed hell bent on tickling her. But why would no one listen to her pleas? Had she made the village deaf too?
"Why did you do that to me?" she said most pitifully.
The men gathered around the table looked at one another incredulously. Did she really just ask for more wicked foot tickling?
Adrianna caught the looks they were exchanging, and after a day of being tickled mercilessly, had a pretty good idea of what those looks meant. Like a flash, she was off the table and running from the tavern. The men started after her but quickly changed their minds about chasing after her. They had given her the best foot tickling they could. If she was off to find someone to do the job better than they, then they had to let her go.
The panicked girl raced through the streets of the village. She was determined to stop for no one, to talk to no one, until she was safely back in her own cottage. The people of the village were used to stopping to watch her pass, but never before had they seen her running so quickly, or looking so frantic. And had they seen correctly? Had she been running barefoot?
Adrianna rushed through the door and slammed it behind her. She was panting and breathing heavily from the quite unfamiliar act of exercising. Her stepfather heard the door being shut so violently and came quickly to see what the commotion was about.
"Adrianna! What is the matter, child?" Like the rest of the village, he'd never seen her in such an excited state.
Adrianna had never been so glad to see her stepfather. She teased him unmercifully, but he did care for her, and would protect her now that she so desperately needed it. She was still short of breath as she explained her troubles. "A witch...put a curse...my feet...won't soil...everyone's gone mad...tickling me...won't listen to reason...help me...please help me..." Her look was pleading.
Adrianna's stepfather looked at her cautiously. What he had heard was, "Tickle...tickle...my feet...my feet...tickle my feet...tickle...tickle my feet...tickle...tickle my feet..." He suspected another of her devilish tricks to leave him frustrated and feeling foolish for falling for her temptations. This was a new one with her, but he wasn't about to be fooled so quickly this time.
"Are you sure, Adrianna, that is what you want?"
"Yes, I need help!" Couldn't he see how frightened she was?
"I will, my child, but just to make sure you aren't up to one of your little games, we'll do this my way."
Adrianna had no idea what he was talking about, but he came and took her by the wrist and pulled her away from the door. She relaxed a bit. He would protect her now. He would help her break the witch's curse.
Her shock of surprise was obvious when he pushed her onto the bed he formerly shared with her mother. In a flash, he was binding her with strong rope, her wrists behind her back, her ankles together. "What are you doing?" she asked, more frightened than ever.
"I'm getting to that, Adrianna my girl. I'll be tickling your feet soon enough, no need to keep asking."
As she heard these words, and felt the knots tightening around her slender bare ankles, the full realization of the witch's curse became horrifying clear to her. She spoke before she grasped that it was a mistake to do so.
"No! Don't! That's not what I'm saying! That's not what I'm saying!"
"Confound you, girl! I said I'm getting to it, now quiet down!"
"Please! Listen to what I'm saying!"
"That's it!" her stepfather cried. He pulled out his pocket handkerchief and stuffed it in her mouth, gagging her. Her demands to have her feet be tickled were muffled effectively after that.
Having finished trussing his stepdaughter, and finally keeping her quiet, he set about tickling her feet. He was going to enjoy this. There would be no tricks this time. No unfulfilled promises. No egg on his face, with her running off, laughing at him. No, not this time. This time, he would come out on top. He would get to win.
He was much larger than Adrianna, and much stronger, so it was really no trouble at all to pin her ankles between his thighs as she lay bound and helpless on her tummy. Her upturned soles beckoned to him. The tips of her painted little toes called to him as she nervously curled and flexed them. He grinned once, and glanced over into her eyes, where her look of terror was plain to see. Apparently, this had been a trick, and he had foiled her plans. "No tricks this time, Adrianna. You wanted this, so you are going to get this." And as she screamed once long and loud into her gag, he began what would be hours of tickle torturing the perfect feet of his stepdaughter.
She flopped about as much as she could on the bed, her brain bombarded with sensitory overload. There would be no help from her stepfather. There would be no mercy for her ticklish feet. There would be no resolution to the curse upon her. All was lost. These were Adrianna's thoughts as she thrashed and wailed in ticklish agony, and she swore she heard the cackling of the dead witch mixed in with her own tortured laughter.
The End
Laughter
It was no different on that perfectly lovely Autumn morning when this tale begins. Adrianna was out picking flowers, far from the road, and dangerously close to the edge of the Dark Wood. She had a little basket full of them. Now that might not seem like mischief to you and me, but in Riverglenn, the unauthorized picking of flowers is forbidden. The village was renowned for it's flowers, and most of the families who lived there made their livings off the careful harvesting and sale of these flowers. So, in effect, what Adrianna was doing was taking food off the plates of the hard working men and women who had carefully cultivated this field. Not only that, but she planned on wearing a few of them in her hair, and had already cooked up a wonderful story about the different boys that she would claim had given them to her as a gift. Oh, what a scandal it would be!
She was quite lost in her devious thoughts when a scream interrupted the perfect morning air. A scream that came from within the Dark Wood! Adrianna was terrified. Her initial reaction was turn and run as fast as she could back to the village, but a second scream, more horrible and tortured than the first, rooted her in fear to the spot where she stood. She trembled, unable to move, unsure at how to act. While she was neither brave nor heroic, there was something desperate in those screams that played on her sympathy. Someone was in pain and needed help, and as far as she knew, she was the only one around who had heard these cries.
Steeling her courage, she tentatively crept towards the edge of the woods. A third scream startled her so much she nearly screamed herself, and it took all of her willpower not to give up this idea of helping and run for safety herself. But whatever was making those terrible shrieks needed assistance, and quickly.
She pushed past the leaves and low hanging branches, entering the dense Dark Wood for the first time in her young life. Dark Wood was no place for women and children, especially comely women who were barely older than a child. She peered through the blackness and the trees, seeking the source of the painful cries. As she advanced, she was sure to glance back over her shoulder, never letting the edge of the tree line out of her sight. Her path was well chosen should she decide to turn and run. Turns out she should have.
Not far into the trees, she heard the distinct sounds of a woman's sobbing. Adrianna turned and headed cautiously in that direction, until low and behold, she stumbled across the cause of her quest.
Lying on the floor of the woods was a witch. How did Adrianna know she was a witch? The woman wore a long black cloak, and a black and crooked pointy hat, and her skin was pale and unappealing, and she had a large wart on the tip of her nose. Adrianna had never seen a witch before, but she was fairly certain she was seeing one now.
The witch was caught under the heavy branch of a tree that had suddenly snapped and fallen upon her. Her legs looked to be getting mightily crushed under the weight of the branch, and she was desperately trying to claw her way out. Her pain was evident, and she was close to fainting away when she spotted Adrianna standing just a few feet away.
"Girl! Quickly! Come help me!" the witch cried excitedly.
"Are you a witch?" Adrianna asked, acting as though they were casually conversing in the street, and the poor woman before her was not trapped under a heavy branch.
"Yes, of course I'm a witch!" the witch cried. "Now please, help me lift this branch!"
"And if I do, you shall give me your enchanted hat?"
"What? My hat? No, foolish girl! Now quit jabbering and come help me!" Adrianna did not know if the witch's hat was enchanted or not, nor did she care. Her interest in coming to the aid of the one screaming so painfully had faded once she saw that it was a nasty old witch, and now she was back to being her same old troublesome self.
"Oh well, have it your way. Looks like I shant be helping you then."
"Why you little...Help me at once, you devilish brat!"
"Brat??? Hmmmph!" And with that, she turned and started back towards the edge of Dark Wood.
The witch screeched an unholy screech that sent shivers up Adrianna spine. The girl began to run, fleeing the scene, while the witch hurled profanities after her. The witch's rage boiled over, and in her pain and anger, she hurled a terrible curse down on Adrianna. Adrianna was running as fast as her shapely legs could carry her, so she missed most of the incantation of the witch, but had she stopped and listened, this is what she would have heard:
Tongue that stings!
Boots that fly!
Turns a deaf ear
And a spiteful eye!
Refusing aid
To those in woes,
Let no covering
Adorn those soles!
Perfect teeth!
Perfect hair!
Perfect toes
Now always bear!
Rotten soul
With foulness stink!
Always hear
What thou does think!
Devil girl
Disguised so sweet
Forsaking those
That thou does meet,
In biting cold
And stifling heat
Now forever say,
"Tickle my feet!"
The witch uttered her terrible curse with her dying breath. She expired, trapped under the branch, the pain in her legs and the rage in her heart too much to bear. She did not get to see if her curse had worked, or what it might result in (for curses are not an exact science), but even she could not have imagined how cruel and severe her punishment on Adrianna would turn out to be. It would have pleased her.
Adrianna broke through the edge of the wood and the words of the witch fell off behind her. She ran at full tilt, but felt her delicate booties, which were not designed for running, beginning to fall apart on her feet. She stopped to repair them, but saw they were both completely severed along the seams. They were useless. Stepping out of them, she resumed her run barefoot over the flowery fields, fighting off the giggles caused by the tickling grass. It was only after she reached the safety of Riverglenn that she turned back and looked to Dark Wood, and seeing no witch chasing after her, put the incident out of her head.
She took a moment to catch her breath and resume her composure. She might run across many males on her return home, and it would not do to look anything less than her best. Being barefoot did not bother her, as like the rest of her, her feet were quite lovely. It would not do to have blackened soles and mud in her toes however. That concerned her.
She examined her feet and was amazed by what she saw. Her feet were immaculate, as if she had just stepped from the bath. Not a trace of dirt on them. Not a speck of soil or grass. Even the expensive polish she'd weaseled from the town chemist was still shining a bright red on her dainty toes. It was unbelievable that after running for many yards through fields of flower beds that her soles not be as dark as the earth, but there they were, clean, soft, and creamy looking. Adrianna was stupefied.
She puzzled over this as she made her way back to the cottage where she lived with her stepfather. She'd lost her basket of flowers during her adventure of the morning, so soon her mind turned from the mystery of her feet to what new deviltry she could muster. Of all the males in Riverglenn, she teased her stepfather the worst, especially since the death of her mother a few years back. She paraded around the house half nude, and cuddled with him alone in bed where she had no business being, and in general, made his life a living hell. He was the kindest and most respectable of gentlemen, and never took advantage of her when it would have been so easy to do so, so of course she teased him worse than anyone else. If nothing else came up on her way home, she could always torment him for the remainder of the day.
Adrianna's heart was full of mischief as she passed the spot where two boys a few years younger than she were busy putting shoes on a horse. They spotted her and immediately stopped what they were doing to smile in her direction. She thought she might distract herself with these two for a bit before heading home.
The smiles of the boys grew wider as Adrianna approached them. With one of her many looks, they quickly cleared a spot on the bale of hay for her to sit. They sat opposite her on a second bale, grinning broadly to each other as she favored both of their bare upper bodies with her roaming eyes. They knew she had a reputation as a tease, but it only takes one time for a tease to deliver the goods, and for all they knew, today was their lucky day.
"What can we do for you, Miss Adrianna?" the smaller of the two said, giving her a look that told her exactly what they'd like to do for her, and to her. His friend nudged him, and they both snickered, while Adrianna feigned a blush.
"Aren't you naughty lads?" she said coyly.
Well, that's what she thought she said. What the boys heard was a very coy, "Tickle my feet?"
The boys started, shocked by the question thrown so casually out of the blue. They both glanced at her bare and tempting looking feet before exchanging a look of uncertainty.
Adrianna was puzzled by their reaction. They were supposed to melt in her hands, not act like dazed and confused. And they seemed to be taking an interest in her little bare feet. That must have been it. They were shocked to find her barefooted. That was all. If they liked feet, she would give them a little foot tease.
Putting on her best sweet face, she wiggled her toes a little and said, "Are you gentlemen all right?"
Of course, for the second time, the boys heard, "Tickle my feet?"
They needed no further urging. Both boys reached forward and grabbed a hold of one of Adrianna's slender ankles. She squeaked and nearly topped over at being so swiftly manhandled. Before she could register what was happening or make the slightest protest, both boys had her bare feet trapped in their laps and were furiously tickling her naked soles. Adrianna went ballistic.
At this point in the story, it's important to point out to you, the reader, just how unbearably ticklish Adrianna was. At a very young age, Adrianna had gotten it into her head that part of being a devilish little temptress meant being dreadfully ticklish; it seemed that males of all ages found tickling her fun and exciting, and as we already know, Adrianna did everything in her power to excite those males. It was an unfortunate burden to bear, being so excruciatingly ticklish, but Adrianna was long past the point in her development to change her mind about it. Now that she had many other, more obvious, ways of tempting men and boys alike, she could not for the life of her turn off her ticklishness. In fact, it seems that she had grown more ticklish with every passing year. The slightest brush of the hand, or feel of a whispering breath on her skin, or even the blades of grass as she ran barefoot through the fields; all were enough to bring out the giggles in her. It was no wonder then, that two sweaty boys, tightly clutching her ankles and rapidly tickling her ultra sensitive foot bottoms, would cause her to erupt in frenzied laughter at their very first touch.
Adrianna whipped her head from side to side, her long blonde hair tossing about just a half second behind. Her hands pounded uselessly the bale of hay upon which she sat, and her feet wiggled madly in their dirty hands, seeking freedom and finding none. She tugged with the muscles of her legs with what little strength she had, but her petite frame was not built for feats of strength, and the torrent of giggles that flowed uncontrollably from her had only weakened her further. She was helpless to stop their tickling fingers.
The boys were quite enjoying themselves, never seeing Adrianna so reduced to such helplessness, or wriggling and squirming so delightfully. They were under the spell that comes over one when he finds what power there is in tickling a beauty until she is quite broken and desperate. Her feet were like butter in their hands. The contrast and irony was not lost on them. Their hands were rough, and calloused, and dirty from hard labor, and the feet they tortured were so soft and white, delicate and pampered. It was like the serf tickling the Master, or the peon tickling the Noble. And her girlish laugh was like the hands of an angel, lifting their spirits. It felt good to tickle Adrianna like this. It felt right.
"Stop!" Adrianna managed to scream, pleading with her hands. "Please! I can't take anymore!"
"Tickle! Tickle! Tickle my feet!" was what the boys heard. They shrugged and stepped up their efforts. Hard, blackened fingernails dug and scraped the creamy flesh of her soles.
Adrianna knew she was close to tears at this point. This was beyond torture. They obviously intended to tickle her to madness, no matter how much she pleaded with them not to. With a desperate strength she didn't know she possessed, she yanked her ankles free and dashed off like a deer. The two boys were left wondering what had gone wrong. Hadn't she asked to be tickled?
She ran until she reached the back of one of the village's drinking and gambling establishments. Her body trembled from the ordeal, and her feet still tingled as though phantom fingernails still tormented them. She had escaped from the boys just in time. Any more tickling and she would have pitched a fit. What had gotten in to them? Why had they fallen upon her so? She eyed her own feet, and cursed her shoes for falling apart on her. There was no denying that her feet looked especially tempting today, and that in itself was puzzling to her. She was not one to walk around barefoot outside, and yet if anything, it seemed to be making her feet even more attractive than they normally would be. She decided to take care of that little problem at once.
Adrianna found a patch of dirt just outside the tavern. She began to stamp and drag her bare feet through it. If dirty soles and mud between the toes was the price she would have to pay to make her feet undesirable, then so be it. Ticklishness outweighed vanity in this case.
To her horror, no matter how she tried to soil her feet, they refused to look anything but perfect. It was though she were rubbing her soles across a bar of soap. Not a speck of dirty clung to her flesh. Not a spot of mud found it's way between her toes. Adrianna was flabbergasted.
At moment, one of the patrons of the tavern stumbled drunkenly out the back door, looking for a place to relieve himself. He spotted Adrianna stomping about in the mud with his blurry eyes and asked, "What are you doing there, little lady?"
Adrianna was too confused and frightened by the refusal of the mud and her feet to cooperate to flirt with the man or deal with his drunkenness. In fact, for once, she hoped that he would leave her be rather than take an interest in her. "Never you mind," she said, not looking up at him.
"Huh?" Hugo, the drunk, asked. Tickle her what?
Adrianna whirled on him, unleashing her anxiety in his direction. "Mind your own business!"
"Well, you bet I will, my pretty little maiden!" And he scooped her little frame up over his shoulder and carried her back into the tavern. Thoughts of relieving himself were temporarily on hold. If she was going to demand that he tickle her dainty little feet, then by George that's what he was going to do!
She squeaked in protest and being manhandled yet again. What was wrong with everyone today? Why did everyone think they could put their hands on her at will? She pounded on the back of the man carrying her inside, but either he was too drunk or too focused to notice. "Put me down! I said, put me down!"
The game of dice that had been going on at the table inside was interrupted by the return of the man and his screaming, kicking bundle. The other four men at the table stood up in amazement. Here was Hugo, carrying Adrianna, the town tease, over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and all she could scream was, "Tickle my feet!" He dumped her unceremoniously on the table, grinning at his mates.
"Have at'er, gents!"
Although the girl seemed enraged, her demands were clear enough to the five men in the room, so they pounced upon her, pinning her to the table. She struggled and fought like a wildcat, screaming incoherently in between cries of "Tickle my feet!". They set about satisfying her at once.
What followed was pure torture for Adrianna. It took only two or three men to hold her steady to the table, leaving always more than one to tickle her little white feet. The laughter they caused in her was steady and forced, although it sounded like music to their ears. For them, the event was enjoyable on multiple levels. On the surface, they were finally getting to touch the young temptress after years of her mental teasing. Just under the surface was they were doing her bidding, and hoped to do it well enough for her to request more, more intimate, favors of them. And buried deep in their souls, they were secretly pleased at giving her a little taste of hell for all the sleepless nights she'd caused them all. Besides, her feet were so soft and beautiful. It would have been a pleasure to touch them, even if she were not egging them on.
Adrianna was beside herself. Never had she been assaulted so, and never in her worst nightmare's had she envisioned how torturous prolonged foot tickling could be. The men were relentless in their attentions to her soles and toes. She could barely form a rational thought, and when she did manage to scream out some words of protest, they only became more focused on driving her mad.
Unlike her episode with the boys, there was no surge of adrenaline resulting in escape. She remained their barefoot prisoner, each man had more than one turn at tickling her feet. This time, the tears did flow, and she struggled and struggled until all the fight had been tickled out of her and she struggled no more. She gave up on begging for mercy; it only seemed to make things worse. She simple surrendered to the torture, broken and exhausted. It was only after she gave up struggling and fighting back completely that they stopped.
The men looked at her, hopeful expressions on their faces. Had they done well?
She lay panting and coughing on the table, looking up into their stupid blinking faces and taking the opportunity to collect her thoughts. The entire village had gone insane. They were all out to get her, and tickle her insane it seemed. There was no logic to it. It made no sense. Then she remembered the witch. The witch that had put a curse on her! That would explain her feet failing to become soiled. That would explain why everyone seemed hell bent on tickling her. But why would no one listen to her pleas? Had she made the village deaf too?
"Why did you do that to me?" she said most pitifully.
The men gathered around the table looked at one another incredulously. Did she really just ask for more wicked foot tickling?
Adrianna caught the looks they were exchanging, and after a day of being tickled mercilessly, had a pretty good idea of what those looks meant. Like a flash, she was off the table and running from the tavern. The men started after her but quickly changed their minds about chasing after her. They had given her the best foot tickling they could. If she was off to find someone to do the job better than they, then they had to let her go.
The panicked girl raced through the streets of the village. She was determined to stop for no one, to talk to no one, until she was safely back in her own cottage. The people of the village were used to stopping to watch her pass, but never before had they seen her running so quickly, or looking so frantic. And had they seen correctly? Had she been running barefoot?
Adrianna rushed through the door and slammed it behind her. She was panting and breathing heavily from the quite unfamiliar act of exercising. Her stepfather heard the door being shut so violently and came quickly to see what the commotion was about.
"Adrianna! What is the matter, child?" Like the rest of the village, he'd never seen her in such an excited state.
Adrianna had never been so glad to see her stepfather. She teased him unmercifully, but he did care for her, and would protect her now that she so desperately needed it. She was still short of breath as she explained her troubles. "A witch...put a curse...my feet...won't soil...everyone's gone mad...tickling me...won't listen to reason...help me...please help me..." Her look was pleading.
Adrianna's stepfather looked at her cautiously. What he had heard was, "Tickle...tickle...my feet...my feet...tickle my feet...tickle...tickle my feet...tickle...tickle my feet..." He suspected another of her devilish tricks to leave him frustrated and feeling foolish for falling for her temptations. This was a new one with her, but he wasn't about to be fooled so quickly this time.
"Are you sure, Adrianna, that is what you want?"
"Yes, I need help!" Couldn't he see how frightened she was?
"I will, my child, but just to make sure you aren't up to one of your little games, we'll do this my way."
Adrianna had no idea what he was talking about, but he came and took her by the wrist and pulled her away from the door. She relaxed a bit. He would protect her now. He would help her break the witch's curse.
Her shock of surprise was obvious when he pushed her onto the bed he formerly shared with her mother. In a flash, he was binding her with strong rope, her wrists behind her back, her ankles together. "What are you doing?" she asked, more frightened than ever.
"I'm getting to that, Adrianna my girl. I'll be tickling your feet soon enough, no need to keep asking."
As she heard these words, and felt the knots tightening around her slender bare ankles, the full realization of the witch's curse became horrifying clear to her. She spoke before she grasped that it was a mistake to do so.
"No! Don't! That's not what I'm saying! That's not what I'm saying!"
"Confound you, girl! I said I'm getting to it, now quiet down!"
"Please! Listen to what I'm saying!"
"That's it!" her stepfather cried. He pulled out his pocket handkerchief and stuffed it in her mouth, gagging her. Her demands to have her feet be tickled were muffled effectively after that.
Having finished trussing his stepdaughter, and finally keeping her quiet, he set about tickling her feet. He was going to enjoy this. There would be no tricks this time. No unfulfilled promises. No egg on his face, with her running off, laughing at him. No, not this time. This time, he would come out on top. He would get to win.
He was much larger than Adrianna, and much stronger, so it was really no trouble at all to pin her ankles between his thighs as she lay bound and helpless on her tummy. Her upturned soles beckoned to him. The tips of her painted little toes called to him as she nervously curled and flexed them. He grinned once, and glanced over into her eyes, where her look of terror was plain to see. Apparently, this had been a trick, and he had foiled her plans. "No tricks this time, Adrianna. You wanted this, so you are going to get this." And as she screamed once long and loud into her gag, he began what would be hours of tickle torturing the perfect feet of his stepdaughter.
She flopped about as much as she could on the bed, her brain bombarded with sensitory overload. There would be no help from her stepfather. There would be no mercy for her ticklish feet. There would be no resolution to the curse upon her. All was lost. These were Adrianna's thoughts as she thrashed and wailed in ticklish agony, and she swore she heard the cackling of the dead witch mixed in with her own tortured laughter.
The End
Laughter
