Haltickling
2nd Level Green Feather
- Joined
- Apr 3, 2001
- Messages
- 4,353
- Points
- 0
My humble tributes to Max Speer, the greatest writer of tickle fiction I know. And my compliments to Capt. Spalding. Both know why.
Important notice: I DO NOT advise nor condone non-consensual tickling in real life. And I totally disapprove of involving minors in any context, just to clarify. This is only a fantasy, and the flashback into adolescence is merely to explain the heroine's history. And this story contains sexual elements, but not pornography in any way.
The Diary
Monday, May 8th , 2000
Dear Diary,
Nothing new nowhere, neither concerning a new model contract, nor a new presentable man. I'm starting to become a very lonely girl, despite my looking good enough to be a fashion model. Or is it because of that?
Sometimes I think all the men are just interested in having sex with me. But I don't want to appear unjust: Probably the really nice, decent men are just too shy to approach a model. Whatever, nights can be cold in Munich, if a girl is only longing for some love and tenderness…
*
Susanne sighed at her friend's endless chattering. Normally Claudia wasn't that talkative, but today she seemed to need somebody to open her heart to. However improbable it might seem, Claudia appeared to be lonely, badly in need of love. Improbable? Well, Claudia was one of the best-looking girls Susanne knew. Tall, flowing and shiny gold-blond hair, incredibly slim at the waist but with the right curves at all the right places. Her brain was bright and quick, and her heart was at least as golden as her hair. She was the best friend any man or girl could have.
But nobody ever saw anything else in her than her superficial likeness to Claudia Schiffer, the world-famous fashion model. They even shared the same first name. However, nobody could mix up these two at a closer look. But nobody cared to take that closer look, so her friend's real qualities were always boiled down to a Claudia Schiffer double, much cheaper and easier available than the real one.
The fashion world was cruel, Susanne knew that from her own experience. She had quit school to become a fashion model herself at the age of 18, and in the beginning she was even more successful than Claudia. But then the terrible motorbike accident had happened, and her left arm remained stiff and deeply scarred. Nobody wanted a model like that, and she had to start odd jobs to make her living. The only friend who really kept on caring for her was Claudia.
So Susanne listened to her friend's chattering patiently, and she sympathized with her. Finally, the waiter brought the checks. Service at the Café Annast was slow as usual, but this was a good place for the young, the rich, and the beautiful to be seen in Munich. Together they stepped out into the crowded street. The taxi rank was empty, but there was a taxi approaching on the other side of the street. Claudia hurried across to catch it, waving back to Susanne, and then it happened: A big Mercedes sports car shot out of a parking lot, and Claudia ran straight into its side! She fell down with a nasty crash, her small fashionable rucksack flew high into the air, and she lay there, stunned by the impact.
Wednesday, May 10th , 2000
Dear Diary,
Finally, something has happened! Something terrible, and something wonderful! I was run over by a car when I left the Café Annast together with Susanne. My own fault, my attention was not on the traffic when I crossed the street. Oh, it hurt so bad, and my left side, knee and elbow still ache. But luckily, there where only a few harmless abrasions, and some colorful spots will develop over the next days.
How can a car accident be wonderful, you may ask, dear diary. Well, it's actually the driver! What a man! Let me describe him to you: About 35, two inches taller than me (he was actually my own height when I had put my high heels back on), short dark-blond hair, lean trim but not too athletic body, in a black expensive tailor-cut three-piece-suit, an expressive face with some deep lines, cleanly shaven (oh God, how I hate these fashionable three-day-stubble-beards). His voice is masculine, his language educated and cultivated. And the best: his eyes! I've never seen more expressive dark-brown eyes, looking worried and a little sad when he helped me up from the tarmac. They lit up like flashlights when I told him I was okay, and they drilled a deep hole into my heart! I think I'm in love, yoohoo!
He handed me his business card (impressive managerial title), and he asked where he could reach me to inquire about my health condition in a few days. He didn't wear a ring (I've had my share of married men), so I told him my phone number. Since then I have hardly left my phone, expecting his call any moment. Oh how I hope that Felix (that's his name) feels the same for me! But I won't call him myself, he simply HAS to make the first move.
*
Friday, May 12th , 2000
Dear Diary,
Yesss! He called me today, apologizing again for the accident, and inquiring how I was. My heart pounded so loud, I was afraid that it could be heard over the phone! But his calm and masculine voice helped me overcome my nervousness. We had a nice, almost humorous chat, and finally he asked me out to dinner, some time during the weekend. At first I pretended to be busy, but then (what a coincidence!) I found a few free hours on Saturday evening. He invited me to Munich's oldest and best (probably also most expensive) Italian restaurant. I'm in heaven!
*
Saturday evening arrived, and Claudia had a wonderful dinner at the Osteria Italiana, Felix being the most attentive host to her; helping her out of her overcoat, adjusting her chair, filling up her glass before the waiters noticed it, providing a relaxed and most entertaining conversation. After dinner, he ordered a bottle of champagne, and touching their glasses, they decided to call each other by the first name (not so common in Germany). It seemed quite obvious that Felix had developed a crush for lovely Claudia, and he never even mentioned her likeness to Claudia Schiffer. Finally she had found somebody who respected her for her real self.
He drove her home in the Mercedes, but he didn't ask to come upstairs with her. She didn't invite him either; it was just not right for their first date to end in bed, she had had too many relations like that. Felix was special. But when she blew him a good-night kiss on the cheek, he shook his head, smiling at her: "Do you really think that's enough?" he asked teasingly. They looked deeply into each others' eyes, and at the same split-second, they embraced and exchanged a long, passionate kiss. His hands caressed her back during it, but then he came into contact with her ribs. She broke the kiss instantly and squealed: "No, you're tickling me!"
He grinned like a school boy: "What's so wrong about a little laughter?" She inhaled deeply, then she fled out of the car, running as fast as her high heels allowed her to. Later, in bed, she called herself a silly cow to react like that to a little harmless tickling, which might not even have happened intentionally. But then, she remembered Susanne mentioning how intensely Felix had stared at her stockinged feet when she had lost her pumps during the accident. She had shrugged this off by saying: "At least he wasn't undressing me with his eyes!"
Could it be that the lovely Felix was actually a freak? Unthinkable. Nevertheless her fear of tickling was immense, after that incident in her youth, ten years ago. She had lived with her parents in a small town in the German Alps, called Berchtesgaden. It was a lovely, stylishly romantic village in untainted rural surroundings, the majestic mountains so impressive. Her schoolmates there were a mean bunch though, and especially the boys kept pestering her because of her striking looks.
She rummaged in her bedside table drawer to look for a much earlier diary. Finally, she found it, and she leafed through the yellowing pages to reread her traumatic experience with tickling:
Saturday, July 14th , 1990
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, it was truly Friday 13th! I'll never forget what this dreadful Mitterhuber gang did to me! But let me start at the beginning:
After school, I went home as usual. In the afternoon, my friend Luise and I went into the forest to look for some raspberries, we wanted to bake a raspberry cake for the weekend. Luise always knew the right places to collect berries and mushrooms, so we quickly found a clearing with about a dozen bushes, full of ripe, delicious fruits.
We were so absorbed in our task and in our chat, we didn't notice the six boys creeping up from behind. Suddenly they jumped on us, wrestling us down. It was those awful Mitterhuber twins and their friends, who never had anything but mischief on their minds. They had pinned us down to the ground easily, we were no match for six strong mountain farmer boys. Alois, their 'chief', started to question us: "Now, who of you was the traitor? Who told our teacher we were behind the mustard attack on her?"
Earlier that week, somebody had smeared mustard to the teacher desk's underside, knowing that Miss Schneider's skirt would get in contact with it when she crossed her legs under the desk as usual. When she had stood up to write something on the blackboard, we all saw the big green stain on her light-gray skirt. I didn't even know who it was, although I had my suspicions. Luise declared herself innocent, too, but the boys didn't believe us.
The evil twins straddled our hips while their friends continued to pin our arms and legs down. Then Alois snickered: "We will find out! All girls are ticklish, aren't they?" And both twins started to knead our ribs and stomachs with their fingers. Oh God, how that tickled! And we weren't able to move at all, just laughing our hearts out. After several minutes, we were granted a short break, only to be interrogated further. Then the tickle torture started again, this time in our armpits. The fingers danced madly about the delicate hollows, scratching and poking and tickling like hell! I was out of breath, but Luise was even more ticklish than me. She freaked out, thrashing about like crazy, until the torment finally stopped for another break.
"Now, who was it? We could go on all day long, you know. And we haven't even started to tickle your feet yet, they will be next. Confess!" And Luise confessed. I was shocked! She had actually whispered the secret in Miss Schneider's ear, giving away the evil boys. "Just don't tickle me any more, please!" she whined and whimpered.
Smiling his most evil grin, Alois removed Luise's sandals, and his brother joined him on the other foot, leaving my body. As grateful as I was for the relief, I felt so sorry for Luise who now experienced the foot tickling of her life. For full ten minutes, both boys traced her smooth bare soles with their fingers, dabbling under the toes, then scratching her arches again. Luise's breath was nothing more than a faint squeaking, her shrill laughter had turned to soundless screams, tears streaming down her face. Finally, she almost fainted, and the twins stopped.
But the worst was still to come! Alois announced his verdict: "That wasn't half the punishment you deserved. Both of you will spend a special night in the forest. Luise as the traitor, and oh so sweet and innocent Claudia for not telling us. Get them up!" The boys dragged us to our feet and led us to another small clearing nearby. My eyes widened with fear when I discovered the huge anthill there! They wouldn't stick us in there, would they? But they had more devious plans.
They tied both of us to the trees nearest to the anthill. Our blouses had been taken off before, but luckily we both wore our first bras, of which we were so proud since our 14th birthdays earlier that year. The boys didn't dare to take them off. They were evil, but not criminal. Ropes of all kinds were to be found on any farm, so it was no surprise that the boys were well equipped. They plugged short wooden pegs into the soft ground and tied our bare feet to them.
Alois continued his speech: "These ants are not dangerous or aggressive. Only very rarely, they bite, and then it just itches a little. We found that they really like our sweet Bavarian mustard, which isn't hot at all. And they will find this delicacy on you soon. Bees and wasps will not molest you, they don't like that mustard. But flies and ants just love it! We will come back tomorrow morning to release you!" And the boys smeared the dark-brown mustard all over our soles, the exposed bare ribcages and armpits. Just a thin layer. The smearing alone made us laugh, as all our ticklish spots were touched softly.
Then the boys disappeared in the forest, ignoring our desperate weeping and begging. We felt so lonely, helpless and abandoned, and we were very afraid of the ants, despite the boys' statement that they weren't dangerous. However, we didn't feel anything for a long time. Suddenly Luise began to squirm. "Oh God, they have discovered my feet!" she exhaled. Our feet were pointing towards the anthill, so they were naturally the first body parts the animals found.
And the boys had tied us up cleverly. My legs were stretched out, and right in front of me Luise was kneeling between them, tied to her tree, her feet backward, her face towards me. We were able to watch each other, seeing the ants crawling over our neighbor's skin. At first, there were just a few of them, but soon the trickling stream became stronger, hundreds of tiny legs on our feet, and then I felt them, too. The slight itch became real tickling soon, and we both were forced to laugh and giggle.
Our situation had another sadistic aspect: whenever we wriggled our toes too much, the ants started to bite us. It didn't hurt, but soon our feet tingled like being treated with itching-powder. So we both tried to keep our feet as still as possible, despite the devilish tickling and itching!
Suddenly I had to scream: A big blue fly had settled down in my right armpit, its impact much stronger than the tiny ants'. It wandered leisurely about, devouring the sweet mustard which had become slightly dried and sticky. A second fly landed in my navel area, but my twitching stomach muscles scared it off again. It obviously called for reinforcement troops, and soon a dozen big flies danced mambo on my ribs and stomach, not to be shooed away that easily. I was laughing so much by now that I didn't even notice Luise's reactions, who had her own problems with some of my flies' relatives.
But the winged tormentors lost interest and left. Thus I was able to watch the ants having built one of their typical 'streets' right between some of Luise's toes, swarming all over and titillating the poor girl into tears. A similar street had formed on my left upper body side, from the jeans up to my bra, slowly approaching my armpit. I screamed and hollered for help, but nobody heard it. The ants probably were deaf anyway.
Luckily for us, the sun settled down after a few hours. The ants were only active during the daytime, so they left us two giggling wrecks alone for the night. Luise's jeans were wet from her inner thighs down, the incessant tickling had caused her to pee! We were completely exhausted, and Luise fell asleep a few minutes before me.
We weren't granted much rest though. I awoke from some intense tickling in my armpit! The moon shone bright enough to see who the tormentor was: A big night moth fluttered up and down my underarm, obviously enjoying the mustard taste, and tickling me into hysteria with its buzzing wings! Luise awoke from my screaming, needing some time to adjust to reality. Then, just as we both had fallen asleep again, Luise's desperate squealing made me jump: A small mouse sniffed at her toes, but it fled from the loud noises. This way, our sleep was interrupted for several times. Once, Luise complained about the itch from her slowly drying jeans, and I felt my ant bites again instantly.
Night was over too soon, and with first light, the ants resumed their customary walk on their previous roads, some of them leading them to our bodies. Our torment began anew, but the mustard had dried out now, so it wasn't that intense as yesterday. Enough to make us giggle and squirm again.
Much later, Alois and his brother appeared, both wearing huge grins. "Have you had an interesting night?" they inquired sarcastically. Alois actually had a jar of the mustard with him. "Do you swear not to tell anybody what happened here? If not, we've still much more of the mustard. My sister has already called your parents yesterday, so they won't come looking for you today. You could easily spend another day here, and we'll return to freshen up the mustard coating in the afternoon. What did you say? I can't hear you!"
Luise swore to remain silent, and so did I. But Alois had another jar in his pocket: honey! He showed it to us, saying: "That's what you'll get if you don't keep your promise. Believe me, we WILL find you, and then the honey will replace the mustard. No more protection against bees and wasps!"
Then they untied us, vanishing in the forest afterwards. We weren't able to move our limbs for quite a while, but finally we managed to get up and walk home. Now, what else can happen on a Friday 13th?
Claudia closed her diary. She had lived through all the horrors once more while rereading it. Yes, that was the real reason why she was so afraid of tickling. Whenever some lover had tried to tickle her playfully, she had screamed and run away. It was traumatic. She couldn't do anything about it. Once she had talked about this to a therapist, but he just had suggested that she should allow some tickling in a loving relationship with her boyfriend to get rid of her fears. She never managed to do this.
Maybe she should try it with Felix. He seemed such a gentle, considerate man. She allowed her mind to get carried away by the positive thoughts of their dinner together, and finally she drifted into sleep, snuggling her gorgeous body comfortably deeper into the cushions.
*
Wednesday, May 17th, 2000
Dear Diary,
Finally he called me again! He even apologized for having accidentally tickled me, and he asked me whether I was cross with him. I wasn't, of course, but I told him sternly not to do this again, and he promised. After a nice little chat, we agreed to meet for another dinner next Saturday, this time in a cute little Spanish restaurant. I can't wait to see him again!
*
Their next date was even more romantic than their first. The lights were dimmer in the restaurant, soft Spanish guitar music accompanied them, and they hand-fed each other some delicious prawns, just like teenagers in love sometimes did. Felix was even more attentive, his eyes not leaving hers for the shortest moment. The tickling wasn't mentioned anymore, but he made her laugh with his witty remarks and his colorful way of telling funny stories.
Again he drove her home, and this time she didn't need any encouragement to kiss him. He had his strong arms around her, holding her tightly, but careful not to tickle her again. She just melted away in his embrace, feeling so secure and comfortable.
And this time she invited him up for a cup of coffee. "But remember your promise!" she admonished him, even afraid of the mere word tickling. They chatted on her couch, and the kisses started again. Hot. Languorous. Feverish! And they flew away on a rosy cloud number nine, finally landing on her bed.
They made love, not just sex. She had never met a gentler man, or a more patient one. His own satisfaction seemed completely unimportant to him, he just wanted to see her happy. And her happiness was complete!
Later that night, Claudia awoke from a strange sound beside her. Felix had the bedside lamp on, reading a book, and he was actually chuckling. She rubbed her eyes, and she noticed her old diary in his hands! Oh God, she hadn't put it back into the drawer, and he had found it. He was reading her most secret memories! Furiously, she grabbed at the book, but he withdrew it from her grasp swiftly.
"Calm down, sweetheart. I couldn't sleep, so I took up the book from the bedside table, presuming it might be your favorite literature. I only noticed it was your diary when I actually opened it at the bookmark, but it was too late: I have already stumbled over your fear about tickling." Claudia attacked him with her pillow. "How dare you…?"
He fought off the attack easily: "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to pry into your private life. But it has happened now. We should talk about this." Claudia fled into the bathroom and locked herself in. She was overcome with shame and her fury about him! How could he do this to her?
Patiently, he talked her into leaving the bathroom. Soothing, gentling, comforting words. Finally she opened the door, and she wept her frustration into his shoulder. Her let her weep, just holding her, saying nothing. And she calmed down slowly.
About two hours of serious talking later, she let herself be convinced: She had to relive her traumatic tickling experience in a pleasurable atmosphere to get rid of her fears, or she would be haunted by the memory forever! It was basically the same that the therapist had told her, but from Felix's mouth, the words sounded so much more credible.
However, she didn't feel at all like being tickled now. She preferred to be cradled in the strong arms of Felix. He carried her to the bed, her arms still slung around his neck, and she wept herself into sleep.
In the morning, Felix was gone. He had left only a few hastily scribbled words on the notepad at her phone: "Beloved Claudia, I'm already late for an important meeting. I'll give you a phone call later. Kisses, Felix."
Monday, May 27th, 2000
Dear Diary,
More than a week has passed since Felix has sniffed into my secrets. I still can't believe he did this to me! Last Monday, a big bunch of red roses arrived, along with a card from Felix that he had to travel to the United States on an unexpected, urgent business matter. On Thursday, I called his secretary, but she only said he's still abroad, not knowing when he will return. No, she can't reveal his number to anyone. Damn, there are phones in America, too! Why hasn't he called me yet? I hate him but I love him but I hate him but I love him!!!
On Wednesday, she had dinner with her friend Susanne at a restaurant near her apartment. Around eleven Susanne took a taxi home, and Claudia left to go to sleep as well. At the building's front door, she fumbled in her handbag for the keys. Suddenly she heard steps from behind; she only managed to turn around halfway, when an ugly-smelling burlap sack was put over her head and upper body, pinning her arms down helplessly struggling. A rope around her at elbow level ensured that she couldn't wiggle off the sack somehow. Then a piece of cloth was tied around her mouth to muffle any scream. The shock had stunned her for a few seconds, and before she could recover, strong arms dragged her along. They heaved her into a car, and she heard the familiar sound of a van's sliding door close.
(continued below, as a reply)
Important notice: I DO NOT advise nor condone non-consensual tickling in real life. And I totally disapprove of involving minors in any context, just to clarify. This is only a fantasy, and the flashback into adolescence is merely to explain the heroine's history. And this story contains sexual elements, but not pornography in any way.
The Diary
Monday, May 8th , 2000
Dear Diary,
Nothing new nowhere, neither concerning a new model contract, nor a new presentable man. I'm starting to become a very lonely girl, despite my looking good enough to be a fashion model. Or is it because of that?
Sometimes I think all the men are just interested in having sex with me. But I don't want to appear unjust: Probably the really nice, decent men are just too shy to approach a model. Whatever, nights can be cold in Munich, if a girl is only longing for some love and tenderness…
*
Susanne sighed at her friend's endless chattering. Normally Claudia wasn't that talkative, but today she seemed to need somebody to open her heart to. However improbable it might seem, Claudia appeared to be lonely, badly in need of love. Improbable? Well, Claudia was one of the best-looking girls Susanne knew. Tall, flowing and shiny gold-blond hair, incredibly slim at the waist but with the right curves at all the right places. Her brain was bright and quick, and her heart was at least as golden as her hair. She was the best friend any man or girl could have.
But nobody ever saw anything else in her than her superficial likeness to Claudia Schiffer, the world-famous fashion model. They even shared the same first name. However, nobody could mix up these two at a closer look. But nobody cared to take that closer look, so her friend's real qualities were always boiled down to a Claudia Schiffer double, much cheaper and easier available than the real one.
The fashion world was cruel, Susanne knew that from her own experience. She had quit school to become a fashion model herself at the age of 18, and in the beginning she was even more successful than Claudia. But then the terrible motorbike accident had happened, and her left arm remained stiff and deeply scarred. Nobody wanted a model like that, and she had to start odd jobs to make her living. The only friend who really kept on caring for her was Claudia.
So Susanne listened to her friend's chattering patiently, and she sympathized with her. Finally, the waiter brought the checks. Service at the Café Annast was slow as usual, but this was a good place for the young, the rich, and the beautiful to be seen in Munich. Together they stepped out into the crowded street. The taxi rank was empty, but there was a taxi approaching on the other side of the street. Claudia hurried across to catch it, waving back to Susanne, and then it happened: A big Mercedes sports car shot out of a parking lot, and Claudia ran straight into its side! She fell down with a nasty crash, her small fashionable rucksack flew high into the air, and she lay there, stunned by the impact.
Wednesday, May 10th , 2000
Dear Diary,
Finally, something has happened! Something terrible, and something wonderful! I was run over by a car when I left the Café Annast together with Susanne. My own fault, my attention was not on the traffic when I crossed the street. Oh, it hurt so bad, and my left side, knee and elbow still ache. But luckily, there where only a few harmless abrasions, and some colorful spots will develop over the next days.
How can a car accident be wonderful, you may ask, dear diary. Well, it's actually the driver! What a man! Let me describe him to you: About 35, two inches taller than me (he was actually my own height when I had put my high heels back on), short dark-blond hair, lean trim but not too athletic body, in a black expensive tailor-cut three-piece-suit, an expressive face with some deep lines, cleanly shaven (oh God, how I hate these fashionable three-day-stubble-beards). His voice is masculine, his language educated and cultivated. And the best: his eyes! I've never seen more expressive dark-brown eyes, looking worried and a little sad when he helped me up from the tarmac. They lit up like flashlights when I told him I was okay, and they drilled a deep hole into my heart! I think I'm in love, yoohoo!
He handed me his business card (impressive managerial title), and he asked where he could reach me to inquire about my health condition in a few days. He didn't wear a ring (I've had my share of married men), so I told him my phone number. Since then I have hardly left my phone, expecting his call any moment. Oh how I hope that Felix (that's his name) feels the same for me! But I won't call him myself, he simply HAS to make the first move.
*
Friday, May 12th , 2000
Dear Diary,
Yesss! He called me today, apologizing again for the accident, and inquiring how I was. My heart pounded so loud, I was afraid that it could be heard over the phone! But his calm and masculine voice helped me overcome my nervousness. We had a nice, almost humorous chat, and finally he asked me out to dinner, some time during the weekend. At first I pretended to be busy, but then (what a coincidence!) I found a few free hours on Saturday evening. He invited me to Munich's oldest and best (probably also most expensive) Italian restaurant. I'm in heaven!
*
Saturday evening arrived, and Claudia had a wonderful dinner at the Osteria Italiana, Felix being the most attentive host to her; helping her out of her overcoat, adjusting her chair, filling up her glass before the waiters noticed it, providing a relaxed and most entertaining conversation. After dinner, he ordered a bottle of champagne, and touching their glasses, they decided to call each other by the first name (not so common in Germany). It seemed quite obvious that Felix had developed a crush for lovely Claudia, and he never even mentioned her likeness to Claudia Schiffer. Finally she had found somebody who respected her for her real self.
He drove her home in the Mercedes, but he didn't ask to come upstairs with her. She didn't invite him either; it was just not right for their first date to end in bed, she had had too many relations like that. Felix was special. But when she blew him a good-night kiss on the cheek, he shook his head, smiling at her: "Do you really think that's enough?" he asked teasingly. They looked deeply into each others' eyes, and at the same split-second, they embraced and exchanged a long, passionate kiss. His hands caressed her back during it, but then he came into contact with her ribs. She broke the kiss instantly and squealed: "No, you're tickling me!"
He grinned like a school boy: "What's so wrong about a little laughter?" She inhaled deeply, then she fled out of the car, running as fast as her high heels allowed her to. Later, in bed, she called herself a silly cow to react like that to a little harmless tickling, which might not even have happened intentionally. But then, she remembered Susanne mentioning how intensely Felix had stared at her stockinged feet when she had lost her pumps during the accident. She had shrugged this off by saying: "At least he wasn't undressing me with his eyes!"
Could it be that the lovely Felix was actually a freak? Unthinkable. Nevertheless her fear of tickling was immense, after that incident in her youth, ten years ago. She had lived with her parents in a small town in the German Alps, called Berchtesgaden. It was a lovely, stylishly romantic village in untainted rural surroundings, the majestic mountains so impressive. Her schoolmates there were a mean bunch though, and especially the boys kept pestering her because of her striking looks.
She rummaged in her bedside table drawer to look for a much earlier diary. Finally, she found it, and she leafed through the yellowing pages to reread her traumatic experience with tickling:
Saturday, July 14th , 1990
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, it was truly Friday 13th! I'll never forget what this dreadful Mitterhuber gang did to me! But let me start at the beginning:
After school, I went home as usual. In the afternoon, my friend Luise and I went into the forest to look for some raspberries, we wanted to bake a raspberry cake for the weekend. Luise always knew the right places to collect berries and mushrooms, so we quickly found a clearing with about a dozen bushes, full of ripe, delicious fruits.
We were so absorbed in our task and in our chat, we didn't notice the six boys creeping up from behind. Suddenly they jumped on us, wrestling us down. It was those awful Mitterhuber twins and their friends, who never had anything but mischief on their minds. They had pinned us down to the ground easily, we were no match for six strong mountain farmer boys. Alois, their 'chief', started to question us: "Now, who of you was the traitor? Who told our teacher we were behind the mustard attack on her?"
Earlier that week, somebody had smeared mustard to the teacher desk's underside, knowing that Miss Schneider's skirt would get in contact with it when she crossed her legs under the desk as usual. When she had stood up to write something on the blackboard, we all saw the big green stain on her light-gray skirt. I didn't even know who it was, although I had my suspicions. Luise declared herself innocent, too, but the boys didn't believe us.
The evil twins straddled our hips while their friends continued to pin our arms and legs down. Then Alois snickered: "We will find out! All girls are ticklish, aren't they?" And both twins started to knead our ribs and stomachs with their fingers. Oh God, how that tickled! And we weren't able to move at all, just laughing our hearts out. After several minutes, we were granted a short break, only to be interrogated further. Then the tickle torture started again, this time in our armpits. The fingers danced madly about the delicate hollows, scratching and poking and tickling like hell! I was out of breath, but Luise was even more ticklish than me. She freaked out, thrashing about like crazy, until the torment finally stopped for another break.
"Now, who was it? We could go on all day long, you know. And we haven't even started to tickle your feet yet, they will be next. Confess!" And Luise confessed. I was shocked! She had actually whispered the secret in Miss Schneider's ear, giving away the evil boys. "Just don't tickle me any more, please!" she whined and whimpered.
Smiling his most evil grin, Alois removed Luise's sandals, and his brother joined him on the other foot, leaving my body. As grateful as I was for the relief, I felt so sorry for Luise who now experienced the foot tickling of her life. For full ten minutes, both boys traced her smooth bare soles with their fingers, dabbling under the toes, then scratching her arches again. Luise's breath was nothing more than a faint squeaking, her shrill laughter had turned to soundless screams, tears streaming down her face. Finally, she almost fainted, and the twins stopped.
But the worst was still to come! Alois announced his verdict: "That wasn't half the punishment you deserved. Both of you will spend a special night in the forest. Luise as the traitor, and oh so sweet and innocent Claudia for not telling us. Get them up!" The boys dragged us to our feet and led us to another small clearing nearby. My eyes widened with fear when I discovered the huge anthill there! They wouldn't stick us in there, would they? But they had more devious plans.
They tied both of us to the trees nearest to the anthill. Our blouses had been taken off before, but luckily we both wore our first bras, of which we were so proud since our 14th birthdays earlier that year. The boys didn't dare to take them off. They were evil, but not criminal. Ropes of all kinds were to be found on any farm, so it was no surprise that the boys were well equipped. They plugged short wooden pegs into the soft ground and tied our bare feet to them.
Alois continued his speech: "These ants are not dangerous or aggressive. Only very rarely, they bite, and then it just itches a little. We found that they really like our sweet Bavarian mustard, which isn't hot at all. And they will find this delicacy on you soon. Bees and wasps will not molest you, they don't like that mustard. But flies and ants just love it! We will come back tomorrow morning to release you!" And the boys smeared the dark-brown mustard all over our soles, the exposed bare ribcages and armpits. Just a thin layer. The smearing alone made us laugh, as all our ticklish spots were touched softly.
Then the boys disappeared in the forest, ignoring our desperate weeping and begging. We felt so lonely, helpless and abandoned, and we were very afraid of the ants, despite the boys' statement that they weren't dangerous. However, we didn't feel anything for a long time. Suddenly Luise began to squirm. "Oh God, they have discovered my feet!" she exhaled. Our feet were pointing towards the anthill, so they were naturally the first body parts the animals found.
And the boys had tied us up cleverly. My legs were stretched out, and right in front of me Luise was kneeling between them, tied to her tree, her feet backward, her face towards me. We were able to watch each other, seeing the ants crawling over our neighbor's skin. At first, there were just a few of them, but soon the trickling stream became stronger, hundreds of tiny legs on our feet, and then I felt them, too. The slight itch became real tickling soon, and we both were forced to laugh and giggle.
Our situation had another sadistic aspect: whenever we wriggled our toes too much, the ants started to bite us. It didn't hurt, but soon our feet tingled like being treated with itching-powder. So we both tried to keep our feet as still as possible, despite the devilish tickling and itching!
Suddenly I had to scream: A big blue fly had settled down in my right armpit, its impact much stronger than the tiny ants'. It wandered leisurely about, devouring the sweet mustard which had become slightly dried and sticky. A second fly landed in my navel area, but my twitching stomach muscles scared it off again. It obviously called for reinforcement troops, and soon a dozen big flies danced mambo on my ribs and stomach, not to be shooed away that easily. I was laughing so much by now that I didn't even notice Luise's reactions, who had her own problems with some of my flies' relatives.
But the winged tormentors lost interest and left. Thus I was able to watch the ants having built one of their typical 'streets' right between some of Luise's toes, swarming all over and titillating the poor girl into tears. A similar street had formed on my left upper body side, from the jeans up to my bra, slowly approaching my armpit. I screamed and hollered for help, but nobody heard it. The ants probably were deaf anyway.
Luckily for us, the sun settled down after a few hours. The ants were only active during the daytime, so they left us two giggling wrecks alone for the night. Luise's jeans were wet from her inner thighs down, the incessant tickling had caused her to pee! We were completely exhausted, and Luise fell asleep a few minutes before me.
We weren't granted much rest though. I awoke from some intense tickling in my armpit! The moon shone bright enough to see who the tormentor was: A big night moth fluttered up and down my underarm, obviously enjoying the mustard taste, and tickling me into hysteria with its buzzing wings! Luise awoke from my screaming, needing some time to adjust to reality. Then, just as we both had fallen asleep again, Luise's desperate squealing made me jump: A small mouse sniffed at her toes, but it fled from the loud noises. This way, our sleep was interrupted for several times. Once, Luise complained about the itch from her slowly drying jeans, and I felt my ant bites again instantly.
Night was over too soon, and with first light, the ants resumed their customary walk on their previous roads, some of them leading them to our bodies. Our torment began anew, but the mustard had dried out now, so it wasn't that intense as yesterday. Enough to make us giggle and squirm again.
Much later, Alois and his brother appeared, both wearing huge grins. "Have you had an interesting night?" they inquired sarcastically. Alois actually had a jar of the mustard with him. "Do you swear not to tell anybody what happened here? If not, we've still much more of the mustard. My sister has already called your parents yesterday, so they won't come looking for you today. You could easily spend another day here, and we'll return to freshen up the mustard coating in the afternoon. What did you say? I can't hear you!"
Luise swore to remain silent, and so did I. But Alois had another jar in his pocket: honey! He showed it to us, saying: "That's what you'll get if you don't keep your promise. Believe me, we WILL find you, and then the honey will replace the mustard. No more protection against bees and wasps!"
Then they untied us, vanishing in the forest afterwards. We weren't able to move our limbs for quite a while, but finally we managed to get up and walk home. Now, what else can happen on a Friday 13th?
Claudia closed her diary. She had lived through all the horrors once more while rereading it. Yes, that was the real reason why she was so afraid of tickling. Whenever some lover had tried to tickle her playfully, she had screamed and run away. It was traumatic. She couldn't do anything about it. Once she had talked about this to a therapist, but he just had suggested that she should allow some tickling in a loving relationship with her boyfriend to get rid of her fears. She never managed to do this.
Maybe she should try it with Felix. He seemed such a gentle, considerate man. She allowed her mind to get carried away by the positive thoughts of their dinner together, and finally she drifted into sleep, snuggling her gorgeous body comfortably deeper into the cushions.
*
Wednesday, May 17th, 2000
Dear Diary,
Finally he called me again! He even apologized for having accidentally tickled me, and he asked me whether I was cross with him. I wasn't, of course, but I told him sternly not to do this again, and he promised. After a nice little chat, we agreed to meet for another dinner next Saturday, this time in a cute little Spanish restaurant. I can't wait to see him again!
*
Their next date was even more romantic than their first. The lights were dimmer in the restaurant, soft Spanish guitar music accompanied them, and they hand-fed each other some delicious prawns, just like teenagers in love sometimes did. Felix was even more attentive, his eyes not leaving hers for the shortest moment. The tickling wasn't mentioned anymore, but he made her laugh with his witty remarks and his colorful way of telling funny stories.
Again he drove her home, and this time she didn't need any encouragement to kiss him. He had his strong arms around her, holding her tightly, but careful not to tickle her again. She just melted away in his embrace, feeling so secure and comfortable.
And this time she invited him up for a cup of coffee. "But remember your promise!" she admonished him, even afraid of the mere word tickling. They chatted on her couch, and the kisses started again. Hot. Languorous. Feverish! And they flew away on a rosy cloud number nine, finally landing on her bed.
They made love, not just sex. She had never met a gentler man, or a more patient one. His own satisfaction seemed completely unimportant to him, he just wanted to see her happy. And her happiness was complete!
Later that night, Claudia awoke from a strange sound beside her. Felix had the bedside lamp on, reading a book, and he was actually chuckling. She rubbed her eyes, and she noticed her old diary in his hands! Oh God, she hadn't put it back into the drawer, and he had found it. He was reading her most secret memories! Furiously, she grabbed at the book, but he withdrew it from her grasp swiftly.
"Calm down, sweetheart. I couldn't sleep, so I took up the book from the bedside table, presuming it might be your favorite literature. I only noticed it was your diary when I actually opened it at the bookmark, but it was too late: I have already stumbled over your fear about tickling." Claudia attacked him with her pillow. "How dare you…?"
He fought off the attack easily: "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to pry into your private life. But it has happened now. We should talk about this." Claudia fled into the bathroom and locked herself in. She was overcome with shame and her fury about him! How could he do this to her?
Patiently, he talked her into leaving the bathroom. Soothing, gentling, comforting words. Finally she opened the door, and she wept her frustration into his shoulder. Her let her weep, just holding her, saying nothing. And she calmed down slowly.
About two hours of serious talking later, she let herself be convinced: She had to relive her traumatic tickling experience in a pleasurable atmosphere to get rid of her fears, or she would be haunted by the memory forever! It was basically the same that the therapist had told her, but from Felix's mouth, the words sounded so much more credible.
However, she didn't feel at all like being tickled now. She preferred to be cradled in the strong arms of Felix. He carried her to the bed, her arms still slung around his neck, and she wept herself into sleep.
In the morning, Felix was gone. He had left only a few hastily scribbled words on the notepad at her phone: "Beloved Claudia, I'm already late for an important meeting. I'll give you a phone call later. Kisses, Felix."
Monday, May 27th, 2000
Dear Diary,
More than a week has passed since Felix has sniffed into my secrets. I still can't believe he did this to me! Last Monday, a big bunch of red roses arrived, along with a card from Felix that he had to travel to the United States on an unexpected, urgent business matter. On Thursday, I called his secretary, but she only said he's still abroad, not knowing when he will return. No, she can't reveal his number to anyone. Damn, there are phones in America, too! Why hasn't he called me yet? I hate him but I love him but I hate him but I love him!!!
On Wednesday, she had dinner with her friend Susanne at a restaurant near her apartment. Around eleven Susanne took a taxi home, and Claudia left to go to sleep as well. At the building's front door, she fumbled in her handbag for the keys. Suddenly she heard steps from behind; she only managed to turn around halfway, when an ugly-smelling burlap sack was put over her head and upper body, pinning her arms down helplessly struggling. A rope around her at elbow level ensured that she couldn't wiggle off the sack somehow. Then a piece of cloth was tied around her mouth to muffle any scream. The shock had stunned her for a few seconds, and before she could recover, strong arms dragged her along. They heaved her into a car, and she heard the familiar sound of a van's sliding door close.
(continued below, as a reply)