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New Max Story!!!

MaxSpeer

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Well, actually, perhaps new to you. This story first appeared in MTJ Publications, TALES FROM THE ASYLUM magazine. It is now offered, for the first time, on the Internet. I hope you enjoy it. - Max

Rusalka
By Max Speer

The figure moved quickly through the night, almost too quickly to see with the naked eye. It was a blur of white and gold and moved without a sound through the forest, lightly rustling leaves as it streaked through the humid night air. The only thing, barely perceived, was the ghostlike hum of a distant song. It was rushing to the water or it would perish.

***

Pete’s Forester crunched stones down the dirt road, his CD player a little too loud for the serene World’s End Campground in Upstate Pennsylvania. It was the weekend after Labor Day and the four set off from Philadelphia for their much-needed vacation. They figured they would beat all the crowds and the prohibitive summertime rates.

Jan was 22, brunette with a slim, runner’s body. She grabbed at Mike in the backseat to get a sip of his Smirnoff wine cooler, which he kept from her with his outstretched arm. She giggled as she reached over to him and clawed at the bottle.

“You’ll never get it,” he said and poked a finger in the hollow of her armpit causing Jan to squeal and recoil as if she’d just been stung.

“Owwee hee hee hee! That’s not fair!” She giggled, now a little hesitant to reach for the bottle again. “You know I’m ticklish.”

“Why do you think I tickled you?” Mike said as he triumphantly put the bottle to his lips and drank the cooler. Jan giggled and slapped his arm.

“Did I hear someone’s ticklish back there?” Pete said from the driver’s seat looking in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, knock it off or I’ll tickle you,” said Leah. His girlfriend was a tall, blond banker, former prom queen. She was the girl that all the guys drooled over in high school. Now, at 25, and determined to show them that she was more than a pretty face and body, she was head of cash management in First Union Bank of Philadelphia.

Pete looked over at his gorgeous girlfriend and poked at her ribs. “Look who’s talking,” he said. “The most ticklish girl in the world.” Leah squealed and held her hands up as if she was thwarting off the attack of a wild animal. He continued to poke as she giggled and then held up his index finger, still maintaining his view of the road. “You know what this is, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Leah said quietly with a giggle.

“What is it?”

“It’s your Tickle Finger.” She turned around and put her arms on the back of her seat and talked to Jan and Mike. “He’s so funny. Everytime he wants something he EeeeeeeeeK! Hee hee hee hee!” Her speech was interrupted with the sensation of a finger wriggling under her arm. Her sleeveless shirt offered no protection. She twirled around in her seat and sat, quietly giggling.

“Gotcha!” Pete laughed. “Hey we’re here. Campsite 37.”

Campsite 37 looked pretty much like Campsite 36 and 38, empty. In fact, there was no one around. They got out of the car and looked around.

“We got the whole place to ourselves. Didn’t I tell you?” Pete said as he pulled several bundles out of the trunk. “No one even knows we’re here. The Rangers have all gone home until next Spring.”

“You’re not gonna keep us here until next Spring are you?” Leah said as she hugged him from behind. She squeezed him and kissed his neck so Pete reached around and poked her belly button with his index fingers.

“Ahhh! Stop that!” Leah giggled and slapped his shoulder.

The Figure watched from behind the bushes. It wasn’t standing as much as floating in one spot. It watched the group of four as they unloaded the truck, pitched their tent, unwrapped their sleeping bags, opened their folding lawn chairs and cracked open their beer. It watched with the attention that a shy, curious child would watch a group of adults; as if it were a naughty pleasure. The Figure stared at the women, scantily dressed in their short little sleeveless tops and tiny shorts. It stared at the soft, bare arms of the woman and saw how when one of the girls lifted her arms that she had razor stubble under her arms. The Figure put It’s hand under one of It’s arms and felt. There was no stubble, only the smooth skin like the rest of the body.

The men were strong, with muscular arms and legs. They sat on their chairs, shirtless, in long shorts and baseball hats, drinking beer and controlling the radio that blasted the abrasive sound of the sports announcer. The Figure, annoyed by the sound, put its hands over its ears.

“Do we have to listen to the game?” Jan said walking to Mike. He slammed his hand over knob of the radio preventing her from changing it. “Come on!” Jan grabbed at his fingers and tried to pry them off. He laughed. It was nothing for him to keep his hand there. He was much stronger than she was. “I’ll tickle you!” She warned.

“I’m not ticklish,” Mike boasted.

Jan reached down and started to run her fingers up and down his bare sides but Mike didn’t even crack a smile. He stared at her defiantly.

The Figure, seeing this, giggled. It was excited at this display of play. But smiled broadly when Mike put down his beer and grabbed Jan’s tender ribs and started tickling her. At first, she screamed and then erupted into uncontrolled giggling. She tried to pull away, gripping at his strong fingers, which crawled up and down her ticklish sides.

Suddenly, Mike reached forward and grabbed her back and pulled her down onto his lap. Once there, he tickled up and down her sides causing Jan to squirm and twist and laugh hysterically, pulling her elbows close into her sides to protect her self.

“Get her feet,” Mike shouted to Pete and Leah. Giggling, Leah knelt down and tried to tickle Jan’s feet through her sandals.

“I can’t get her,” she said. “She’s kicking too much.”

With that, Pete grabbed her calves under one arm and held her legs tightly. “Get her shoes off,” he said.

“Pete!” Jan scolded. “I thought we were friends!”

Leah unbuckled her sandals and ran her long nails down the damp, warm bare soles of Jan causing her friend to scream a shrill squeal that vibrated the very trees they camped under. Her scream fell into a hysterical giggling and desperate plea for the tickling to stop.

“Leehee hee hee hee!” She giggled. “I thought you were my friend heh heh heh heh! Owww! Ha ha ha ha hee hee he hee! Don’t!!!!”

“Had enough?” Mike said.

“Yessss!!” she laughed, barely choking out the word.

Mike released her and Jan slipped down to the dusty ground in a heap, softly giggling. Her two friends stood over her and Leah let her sandal drop into her lap.

“Thanks a lot, traitor,” she said with mock sadness.

“Anytime,” Jan said giggling. As she walked away she poked Leah in her ribs causing the girl to yelp at the unexpected tickle.

“Now, to show I’m fair,” Mike said (he was now feeling amorous towards her) I will change the station.

“No.” Pete protested and started to walk towards the radio as Jan picked it up. Leah grabbed his arm, preventing him from reaching the radio before Jan had changed it to a soft rock station. Then she spun him towards her and kissed him, deep and passionately.

The Figure, hearing the music smiled. It liked music.

Jan turned the music up and Mike reached up and turned it down. It became a game, one turning it up and the other turning it down.

The Figure stared at the radio in fascination.

“I think Leah and I are gonna take a … nature hike,” He was obviously hot for her from that kiss.

“Yeah,” she said with a coy smile. “We’re gonna get natural and enjoy nature.” She giggled and the two walked down the trail into the woods.

The Figure saw the two walk away from camp and into the woods and, ran from the bushes in a soundless blur. A large puddle of water was the only evidence of It being there.

Leah and Pete held hands as they walked further into the wood.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” Leah asked.

“As far from them as possible,” Pete said and he grabbed her waist and pulled her close to him.

“I like it when you’re passionate,” she said as she got up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

Just then, there was a stir in the bushes.

“What the hell is that?” Leah said as she huddled close to her boyfriend.

“You wimp,” he said. “Probably a bird or a raccoon or something. It’s nighttime and the little cute raccoons come out to steal your food.”

“I don’t like raccoons,” she said looking over her shoulder. “Don’t they all have rabies?”

“Yes,” said Pete as he grabbed her ass, “And they all wanna bite your ass.” Leah screamed and hit Pete repeatedly on his chest. He held her tight and started to rub her breasts.

“Mmm,” she cooed. “Just as long as they leave my breasts for you.” He felt her erect nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt and she threw her head back and swooned.

Suddenly, a loud ruffle in the bushes startled her and she gave off a screech.

“Pete,” I don’t like this. I wanna go back.”

“Will you relax?” he said. “We’re in the woods. We’re camping. There are animals in the woods. You have to understand that when you’re in their territory you have to put up with their…”

Just then, his words were frozen as he gazed up through the night at a vision he had never seen before except, perhaps in fairy tale picture books. It was a slim, beautiful girl, looking between the ages of 16 and 18. She had long, wavy blonde hair and piercingly crystal-green eyes. Her face was angelic. She wore a white tunic that draped over her shapely body, baring her shoulders and her knees. She was barefoot and a puddle of water encircled her feet. Her toes were pink and soft.

“What’s the matter. You’re scaring me,” Leah said and she spun around to see what he was staring at.

“Hell-o,” Pete said, a little too flirtatiously for Leah.

“Who are you?” Leah said with obvious annoyance.

The Girl just stood there and smiled. Her eyes were shining. She was staring at Leah. The two just watched the strange female form in fascination, although Leah began to get very frightened of this girl, thinking she might be a serial killer or something like that.

“This girl is weird,” Leah said unwrapping herself from Pete and pulling at his arm to get him to come back to the campsite. The Girl moved her gaze up to Pete, who stood there, transfixed. He was frozen in his tracks, and unable to take a single step.

“You better move it, Pete,” she said with a little more anger in her voice, “Or I’m going back alone.”

“Okay, Honey,” Pete said as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. He stared, hypnotized at the beautiful angel who stood before him.

“Great. That’s just great. Well you go and have a great time with Barbie here and I’m getting back. And don’t even think about sharing my sleeping bag tonight.” Leah let go of his arm and trounced back towards camp, or at least, what she thought was camp.

The Girl walked slowly towards Pete. Her stare was so erotic that he felt sexually stimulated. It was almost as if her eyes were pulling on him and stimulating him. She moved slowly and hummed a song that was so sweet and melodic that Pete’s heart opened to her. It was crazy, he thought, but he was falling in love with this girl. She moved closer and pushed her body against his. He was so aroused, he could have made love to this beautiful girl right at that moment. He felt as if it would be the most erotic lovemaking he would ever experience. Her every movement was stimulating. She was beyond sexy. Sexy was something Leah was when she dressed up for him. This was an expression of Pure Sex. His desire for her was uncontrollable.

She moved against his body and placed her delicate fingers on his shoulders. They felt warm and wet. Then she stood on tiptoe-toe and put her red lips against his.

Leah was fuming as she batted shrubs out of her way, trying desperately to find the path back. Then a thought seized her that made her stomach give a turn. Maybe that girl really was a serial killer and Pete is in danger. She knew that she was worthless on her own, trying to find the path back. She would check up on that little slut and see what was going on. If he was screwing her then it was all over for them. No more marriage plans. That would be it. Break up. But if that slut left and he was alone, he would be able to get her back to camp. Maybe she would forget about the whole incident. After all, that girl was really gorgeous. Any man would have stared. And because she came out of nowhere, they were both taken by surprise.

Leah thought she was lost until she heard a soft sound of singing.

“Great,” she said aloud. “That bitch is singing to him now.”

Absolutely steaming, Leah batted through the brush, following the sound of the singing until she came back to familiar sights. She threw aside a large branch and gasped at what she saw.

There was the girl, standing like a statue, singing over the prostrate body of Pete. He was on his back, eyes fixed. Not breathing.

The Girl started to giggle. This made Leah feel more helpless and frightened. Then the giggling was louder and she turned towards the frightened woman.

Leah was frozen in her tracks. She couldn’t move. She wanted to scream but nothing in her face worked. It was as if she were paralyzed.

The Girl moved towards her with a mischievous smile. She was taller than Leah was but thinner. She stroked Leah’s hair and let her long nails play under Leah’s chin.

There was feeling in her face, but it was not what she expected. The nails tickled her. It was an excruciatingly annoying tickle. Leah was able to speak quietly.

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!”

The Girl’s nails trailed along her neck, tickling the skin there and making Leah squirm as much as she could. It was very strange and unsettling. She was frightened beyond understanding.

Then, the Girl took her hand and lifted Leah’s arm and raised it up over her head. As if her wrist was tied, she was unable to pull it down. The Girl trailed her long nails down from Leah’s wrist, all the way down the inside of her arm. Her sleeveless shirt offered no resistance against the sensations. The soft flesh was extremely sensitive and it tickled maddeningly. Leah stared to laugh. This action was also uncontrolled. She didn’t want to laugh but she couldn’t scream, which is what she really needed to do. The Girl’s nails settled on the smooth, clean-shaven hollow of Leah’s armpit and began to wiggle, tickling the extremely sensitive skin.

This was always a very ticklish spot on Leah but now it was excruciatingly ticklish. She laughed hysterically, as if she were a madwoman. The Girl giggled and hummed as she did it. She was not human. She was some kind of monster, Leah thought.

Then the Girl stopped and raised her own bare arm and looked at her armpit. The underarm area was the same, pale skin as the rest of her, hairless and smooth. She looked over at Leah’s armpit and ran a single nail down the skin that showed slight stubble. The action sent Leah squealing in laughter once again, causing the Girl to smile broadly. Her teeth were perfect. The Girl ran her nail down her own underarm and giggled. Her voice was Leah’s voice. That is, she did not have a voice of her own but her giggling was like the replay of a tape of Leah’s previous laugh.

Leah started to sob. The Girl stopped tickling herself and bent her perfect face towards Leah’s face. She stuck out a very long tongue. It was so long and monstrous that Leah attempted to scream again but no sound would come out. It was like a nightmare she used to have when she was a little girl. In the nightmare she would scream and scream but the sound out of her mouth was no louder than a whisper. The tongue reached out and touched Leah’s face, tasting her salty tear. She tipped her head, tasting.

The Girl looked at Leah’s other arm and a smile lit her face again. Leah’s other hand was lifted and the Girl placed both hands under Leah’s horribly ticklish armpits and tickled. She swayed her hips as she tickled, as if she were slow dancing, humming all the time, Her high-pitched voice was beautiful and Leah was laughing at the same melodic pitch. Then, the Girl’s nails moved down and grabbed, savagely at her ribcage, tickling her so hard that it began to hurt. Leah was screaming now in laughter, but the volume of the scream was as if it had been turned down. It was almost as if her voice was controlled like a radio.

She threw her head back and screamed in hysterical laughter, suddenly finding herself lying on her back on the dry leaves. A single finger pointed towards Leah’s exposed belly and her nail grew down to touch the soft flesh, circling the belly button and tickling her maddeningly. Leah had only enough movement to twist back and forth but not out of range of the monstrously long fingernail that tickled ‘kitchy koo’ fashion on her incredibly ticklish belly.

The nail seemed to disappear with the Girl’s next movement. She lifted her bare foot and placed each foot on either side of Leah body. Her face was lit with a savage cruelty. If possible, Leah was even more frightened. She felt herself beginning to faint.

Suddenly, she was brought back with the sharp crack of a hand across her face. It stung.

The Girl, standing over her, turned her back to Leah and lifted Leah’s bare feet. She held it easily in her one hand as her nails lowered to tickle both of her horribly ticklish soles at the same time. The Girl’s fingers spread wide to reach both feet and she scratched a trail of tickling torture down the soft skin of her soles.

The din of Leah’s laughter would have been deafening to her, yet only a whisper was released into the air. The “music” of the Girl’s humming seemed to drown it out without actually being loud. It covered the laughter and screams like a blanket of White Noise.

The nails traced around her bare feet as if she were tracing a pattern. The tops of the feet were also tickled and the sensations were beyond madness. Leah’s soundless laughter pulled her body like a force. She could not stand it. The Girl seemed to enjoy the sight of Leah’s feet and licked with her long, monstrous tongue, between her highly ticklish toes. Leah was crying within her laughter. The Girl licked the musky skin of Leah’s ticklish toes while her long, sharp nails scratched a tickling madness on her bare soles from the base of the toes down to the heel.

As the Girl tickled she giggled and seemed to enjoy the act of tickling. Never before had Leah been tickled so horribly. The nails scratched excruciatingly over the bare skin of her ticklish soles. She couldn’t catch her breath. It was an unending, unceasing stimulation of her most ticklish spots. She began to cough. She couldn’t talk. She could no longer take in a breath. The tickling wouldn’t stop.

The Girl giggled as she dropped the lifeless legs of Leah. The once-beautiful woman lay motionless on a bed of dry leaves; eyes fixed. There was a puddle of water around her lifeless body.

“Where the hell are those guys,” Jan said staring at the dark woods. “It’s really getting late.”

“Will you relax?” Mike said. “They’re grown-ups. C’mon, Jan, let’s go to bed.” He walked over to the tent and unzipped it. Then he gestured with a motion of his hand as if he were inviting her into a classy suite. “Madame?” he said with a gesture.

Jan did a mock curtsy, pulling out the pants legs of her shorts. She entered the tent and removed her shorts. Mike stared at the triangle of her panties and started to get fired up. This was going to be great, making love under the stars. He removed his pants and lied there, naked and waiting for his girlfriend to huddle close to him. She knelt down and turned her back to him lifting her arms over her head and grabbing at the buttons on the back of her shirt.

“Will you unbutton me please?”

Mike looked at her arms raised and started to feel naughty. He reached around and gave her two exposed underarms a little tickle causing the girl to squeal and throw her arms down again.

“Hey!” she giggled. “No more tickling. I can’t take it when you tickle me.”

Mike reached up to unbutton her when he suddenly heard the sound of the radio being turned on. The music was blasting.

“What the hell are they pulling?” Jan said. “Go out and kick their asses.” Mike rose to go out. “Hey,” Jan giggled. “Uh, you’re naked. You know that?”

“I don’t give a shit,” Mike said. “Serve them right.”

Mike got up and unzipped the tent and walked out into the forest air. The only sound was the radio blasting but it was nowhere in sight.

“Stop fucking around, you assholes,” Mike shouted. “Where is it?”

He walked into the woods, following the sound. His bare feet were sensitive to the rocks and sticks and he frequently recoiled from the pain.

Suddenly, following the sound to its source, he saw the figure of the Girl. For a moment he tried to fix his gaze which seemed out of focus. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. She was beautiful. The radio was blasting but was nowhere to be seen. The sound came from the Girl. She walked slowly towards him and he stared unable to make a sound. She was so alluring that he began to get aroused. The Girl looked down at his obvious arousal and smiled, then she looked up at him and reached her nails out to his sides. He couldn’t move. She touched her nails on his ribs and began to run them up and down. Then she frowned. Nothing. He wasn’t ticklish at all. It seemed to anger her as she tried again and again to elicit a ticklish response. Again, nothing. Mike’s ‘spell’ was broken for a moment and he laughed at her.

“Ha ha what are you trying to do? Tickle me? Sorry, sweetheart but I have never been ticklish, now why don’t you and I go back to my…” He never finished. The angered Girl silenced Mike, her long nails growing and sharpening in a split second. And in that split second, while the radio blasted, her arm swung wide and took his head completely off.

Jan was nervous, the sound of the radio was unceasing and she walked out of her tent in her panties and called for Mike. No answer. Then she saw something that chilled her to the bone. Sitting on a tree stump, right where it was left, was the radio. Silent. The sound was coming from another source. But just as she realized that, the sound of the other ‘radio’ stopped abruptly.

She started to panic and called out to Mike and her friends but there was no answer. Tears filled her eyes. She hugged herself, wearing nothing more than her tiny sleeveless/midriff top and thong panties. Her bare feet shuffled nervously on the dusty ground.

Suddenly, there was a rustle in the bushes and Jan felt relieved. She wanted to rush into someone’s arms. But she stopped short when she saw the figure of the Girl.

Jan stood motionless and sobbed. She realized that she couldn’t move an inch. The Girl and the fact that she couldn’t move frightened her within an inch of her life. She tried to ‘wake up’ but knew deep inside, that she was awake. This was a waking nightmare.

The Girl reached her hand out and touched her nails to the skin of Jan’s exposed side. The sensations tickled her so much that she couldn’t help herself. She laughed hysterically as the fingers wiggled skillfully up and down that little patch of bare skin right above her hip and below her fixed ribs. She was able to squirm a little but hardly much at all. But the tickling was excruciating.

“Whyyyyyyy!!!” she managed to get out through her laughter. “Why are you tickling meee hee hee hee hee hee!”

The Girl walked behind Jan and bent down to tickle her behind her knees. It was maddening. It tickled so much but she couldn’t fall down to protect herself. The nails lightly stroked up the back of her legs causing her victim to scream in ticklish agony. The Girl loved the feeling of her nails tickling the exposed cheeks of her perfectly round butt. Jan could only wriggle slightly but she could not avoid the ticklish caress. She slipped her soft, wet palm into the panties and caressed her butt, tickling and stroking. Jan was laughing with tears in her eyes as the strange Girl's hans slipped out and tickled the small of her back.

Just then, the Girl lifted Jan’s foot up behind her and placed a single, sharp nail on the creases of her bare sole. The tickling was so excruciatingly intense that she feared she would faint. Still, she was unable to drop to the ground and stood there as if held up by invisible ropes. The nail stroked up and down, up and down the length of Jan’s horribly ticklish soul causing the tickled girl to scream, blood curling screams, followed by staccato laughter.

Then, the tickling stopped and the Girl stood in front of the sobbing Jan. She stared at Jan smooth, baby-soft arms and lifted one up over her head. She reached a single nail forward and tapped the smooth, ticklish armpit of Jan.

“Please no,” she said through the laughter. “Not there. Please!”

The Girl lifted both of Jan’s arms up with a yank. She held her hands up and her nails began to grow like a monstrous root towards her ticklish armpits.

Suddenly, she stopped and the ‘roots’ seemed to disappear. The smiling Girl reached up her delicate hand and touched her own hair. It was beginning to dry. Dry hair meant death.

Jan suddenly found herself released from the invisible bondage. She ran towards the tent and huddled against it, crying.

The Girl began to pale. Her skin took on a whitish hue and her face began to grow older. Tears flowed down her cheeks, which turned to dust and blew away in the breeze. Suddenly, in a flash, she sped into the bushes.

Jan huddled onto the ground and curled into a fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably until the sun came up. Her friends never came back.

The days that followed were a blur of police, detectives, coroners, autopsies, a priest, and the sympathetic arms of her mother.

The Rusalka bathed in the greenish water of her lake. She was strong now. The tickling and death made her strong. She would finish what she started. She would leave the lake and find new water. She would find that girl and finish her ritual. There would be others. She would learn the language and speak to them. She would learn. She would learn everything.
 
wow... I was picturing a Blair Witch type movie, with a few Hollywood special effects thrown in for our folkorish villainess, the whole read. spooky, sensual and just awesome to read! thank you for posting it, Max!
 
Interesting and well written. But I have to say I am not too fond of horror-tickling...especially when people are killed like that. Tickling, however sexual it may be, is still a relatively innocent form of play, and cold blooded murder really takes alot out of the story.

Just my $0.02.
 
Thanks for comments. Your 2 cents were well spent. I am not usually a fan of mixing genres either. Keep in mind that this story was written specifically for a publication that catered to tickling/horror. Those who bought that magazine expected this interesting blend. I am a horror fan so it was a fun exercise to mix mediums.

This story is definitely not for everyone, just like many of my stories.

Max :firedevil
 
I think the blend of genres was unexpectedly titillating. I understand the comments regarding murder and tickling being a bit of an unusual pairing, actually something of polar opposites to me personally. Then again, while watching the most recent version of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre", I found I wasn't so much horrified by what was happening to the teenagers as I was fantasizing about what I would be doing if I had Jessica Biel handcuffed from the ceiling in that hideous basement. The story had a similar erotica to me, where the tickling was that much more enjoyable in contrast to the horror played out around it.

Combined with the exotic title, RUSALKA, I felt like I was reading a modern translation of some old Slavic horror story, like "Rusalke: Lek Ticklen Morte Razhvedka". Very nice cross-breed with a distinctive feeling. There is texture in this story that's missing from a lot of fiction that revolves around tickling, something dark and sinister like a spider stuck on a cherry lollipop. I loved it.

Oh, and whatever you do, don't ruin it with "Rusalka Part 3: Rusalka's Revenge", and "Rusalka 6: The Tongue of Truth". This is a horror classic that should remain a short story with the rest left to the imagination.
 
Our genre (is it a genre? It should be. We're practically mainstream by now) should be much edgier and more literate. Your story is imaginative, smart, funny (if horror has no humor, it's BORE-or) and held my interest easily. Well worth keeping around!
 
Awesome horror story! It was made even better by all the tickling in it. You could be the Stephen King of the TMF!
 
Choc one up for another amazing story by MaxSpeer. That was excelent max, one of your best. ;)
 
well done max, i read this story when i first joined the forum but didnt know how to reply at that time. seems i took care of that particular problem now doesnt it? lol anyway a truly imaginative and creative piece of literature. i also dont care for murder in a story, but since it was written for a horror magazine it fit. also considering the gruesome ways people are killed off in other stories, this was unique and ticklishy diabolical. except for the guy who got his head cut off but at least it was mercifully quick. love your stories and now i'll read more.

isabeau :feets:
 
Omfg

Thats...thats...AMAZING! THIS IS THE GREATEST TICKLING STORY IVE EVER READ! (Did anyone else think of an older version of samara from the ring as the "figure" who was tickling and killing people?) :happyfloa
 
This is the first I saw of this reply. Thank you very much for those kind words.

I had written this story before I saw any of those director's films but I am now a fan. I have always been a horror fan so this seemed to be a way to apply the genre. I would love to continue at some point.

Thanks again!

Max
 
I hardly ever read stories, but now I want to know if they give Pulitzers to writers of tickle-fiction.
 
Brilliant, and creepy....

And I'm sure that latter half doesn't describe you personally :jester:

Ticklish_witch said:
Thats...thats...AMAZING! THIS IS THE GREATEST TICKLING STORY IVE EVER READ! (Did anyone else think of an older version of samara from the ring as the "figure" who was tickling and killing people?) :happyfloa

That's exactly what I almost wrote as well! That the author of the Ring must be a long-time fan! Or maybe that of Grudge too.... :shake:

If not for the loss of life I'd enjoy it fully (incredible though too sad imho), but the talent is never to be denied!! <<<<---- :D
 
Wesker28 said:
How is this new, it was posted back in 2005!

I'm taking a wild guess now. Maybe it was new in 2005? Since we get new members all the time then it's also new to them.

Just a guess:)

Max :firedevil
 
I am absolutely OBSESSED with the Rusalka series! I don't care how old or new they are. I love them all.

Are you planning on writing more, Max? :) One of my favorite tickle series is of the Rusalka. I love it. :hungry:
 
I've loved the idea of The Rusalki ever since I read about their existence in Russian folklore many years ago.

The two Rusalka stories were written for MTJ Publishing back in the early part of the 2000's. I haven't written anything in a while. I should probably get off my ass (or get ON my ass) and write something again.

"Megan" is a particular favorite of mine.

Thanks!
 
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