ElFewja
2nd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Dec 21, 2007
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I don’t know why I thought this would be a good idea; I kind of wanted to turn a fairy tale into a tickling tale, though. Well, I did that. To keep with the nature of fairy tales, I tried to stick with a shorter story. There’s even a moral (don’t fuck with bears), so I guess that counts for something. Hm. Yeah, etc.
Goldilocks - Uncensored Version (Bears/F Feet)
Everyone knows the story of Goldilocks (also, if you’re reading this and you don’t, I would like to propose that you don’t actually exist, you mythical creature you!), but most people get the toned down ending when they hear the story. Let me set it straight; first off, she wasn’t some cute kid. She was actually a young woman in her early twenties, and quite a bitch at that. When I say bitch, I mean she was the kind of person that would go around breaking into people’s houses and eating their food rather than working for a living. Seriously, this story wasn’t the first of those involving her; actually, it was the last.
Well, anyway, she finds this little cottage in the woods, completely by itself: small one room thing, but two stories. She pulls her usual antics, as there is nobody to see or stop her, but she doesn’t break in; the door is unlocked, so she just walks in, sees three bowls of porridge, tastes them all and decides that the middle one is the best, and proceeds to eat all of its contents. Oh, yeah, the three chairs in front of the three bowls; she completely gauged their comfortableness, deciding that the one before the middle bowl – the smallest of the chairs - was the most comfortable and chose to sit in that one, covering it with the thick and rank odor of her perfume. In an attempt to find any sort of valuables, she continued to scour the house, but stealing is tiring work, so that when she came to the bedroom on the second floor, she realized herself to be quite sleepy. There were three beds, and among them, the smallest also had the softest mattress. As if some narrator dictating her story decided that he was too tired to put more detail in, she immediately fell asleep upon testing the third bed, clothes, shoes and all, lying on her stomach on top of the sheets.
Enter the bears; these aren’t story book bears, by the way. They’re mean fuckers normally, and man are they angry to see their door wide open, chairs not where they left them and food missing. Seriously, they destroyed the chairs and smashed the table in a fit of rage; that cute baby bear was on the ceiling, foaming at the mouth and tearing planks from around where he hung, throwing them about so hard that they pierced through the walls. The least masculine of the three caught the foul stench of human soon after their arrival and traced it upstairs.
So yeah, they found her and became even angrier. Of course they were going to get their revenge on this woman that slept before them; seriously, if this ever comes up for you, don’t ever sleep in a bear’s bed before it has. It’s one of the worst insults you can pay to a bear (and have you seen those things? You probably don’t want to insult one. They’re huge!). The mother bear went back down the stairs, happening upon a bowl of porridge that had fallen onto the floor but still managed to contain a fair amount of the dinner it had once held, and returned upstairs. Because his belongings had been desecrated the most, the littlest bear wanted to be sure that he made this woman suffer the most; with that in mind, he pounced onto the bed and held her down while he ripped her boots away from her. With the bowl in hand, the mother bear approached the struggling woman who screamed for help incessantly, and poured the hot porridge onto both of her feet evenly. The father bear and mother bear each held down one ankle with a clawed paw, and licked that foot clean while their little burglar screamed in hysterics - as if discovering for the first time the horrible sensations that her feet could be forced to experience – while her naked feet were mercilessly licked and tickled.
Oh, they cleaned the wild girl’s soles very quickly - within a minute or two - but enjoyed her screams so much that they continued to lick her plain soles and toes for the better part of an hour, torturing the girl with their thick tongues, slurping and licking thoroughly and incessantly, with no regard for how much they tortured the little thief that had destroyed their home (Well, the bears had done it, but Bears are also not very intelligent). From what they could tell, her toes seemed to yield the most response, so they favored them, darting between and around the wiggling things. The littlest bear enjoyed his position, his snout close to hers as he watched her face contort, listening to her loud screams and laughter with glee, though he did occasionally dangle the pair of boots in front of her, just out of her reach while she grabbed at them. He enjoyed every second of the torment he caused her.
But then they got bored and ate her. Except that isn’t really appropriate for a children’s tale (although it happens in half of them anyway, making this censorship a curious one), so everyone says she just ran away, boots and all.
The end
Goldilocks - Uncensored Version (Bears/F Feet)
Everyone knows the story of Goldilocks (also, if you’re reading this and you don’t, I would like to propose that you don’t actually exist, you mythical creature you!), but most people get the toned down ending when they hear the story. Let me set it straight; first off, she wasn’t some cute kid. She was actually a young woman in her early twenties, and quite a bitch at that. When I say bitch, I mean she was the kind of person that would go around breaking into people’s houses and eating their food rather than working for a living. Seriously, this story wasn’t the first of those involving her; actually, it was the last.
Well, anyway, she finds this little cottage in the woods, completely by itself: small one room thing, but two stories. She pulls her usual antics, as there is nobody to see or stop her, but she doesn’t break in; the door is unlocked, so she just walks in, sees three bowls of porridge, tastes them all and decides that the middle one is the best, and proceeds to eat all of its contents. Oh, yeah, the three chairs in front of the three bowls; she completely gauged their comfortableness, deciding that the one before the middle bowl – the smallest of the chairs - was the most comfortable and chose to sit in that one, covering it with the thick and rank odor of her perfume. In an attempt to find any sort of valuables, she continued to scour the house, but stealing is tiring work, so that when she came to the bedroom on the second floor, she realized herself to be quite sleepy. There were three beds, and among them, the smallest also had the softest mattress. As if some narrator dictating her story decided that he was too tired to put more detail in, she immediately fell asleep upon testing the third bed, clothes, shoes and all, lying on her stomach on top of the sheets.
Enter the bears; these aren’t story book bears, by the way. They’re mean fuckers normally, and man are they angry to see their door wide open, chairs not where they left them and food missing. Seriously, they destroyed the chairs and smashed the table in a fit of rage; that cute baby bear was on the ceiling, foaming at the mouth and tearing planks from around where he hung, throwing them about so hard that they pierced through the walls. The least masculine of the three caught the foul stench of human soon after their arrival and traced it upstairs.
So yeah, they found her and became even angrier. Of course they were going to get their revenge on this woman that slept before them; seriously, if this ever comes up for you, don’t ever sleep in a bear’s bed before it has. It’s one of the worst insults you can pay to a bear (and have you seen those things? You probably don’t want to insult one. They’re huge!). The mother bear went back down the stairs, happening upon a bowl of porridge that had fallen onto the floor but still managed to contain a fair amount of the dinner it had once held, and returned upstairs. Because his belongings had been desecrated the most, the littlest bear wanted to be sure that he made this woman suffer the most; with that in mind, he pounced onto the bed and held her down while he ripped her boots away from her. With the bowl in hand, the mother bear approached the struggling woman who screamed for help incessantly, and poured the hot porridge onto both of her feet evenly. The father bear and mother bear each held down one ankle with a clawed paw, and licked that foot clean while their little burglar screamed in hysterics - as if discovering for the first time the horrible sensations that her feet could be forced to experience – while her naked feet were mercilessly licked and tickled.
Oh, they cleaned the wild girl’s soles very quickly - within a minute or two - but enjoyed her screams so much that they continued to lick her plain soles and toes for the better part of an hour, torturing the girl with their thick tongues, slurping and licking thoroughly and incessantly, with no regard for how much they tortured the little thief that had destroyed their home (Well, the bears had done it, but Bears are also not very intelligent). From what they could tell, her toes seemed to yield the most response, so they favored them, darting between and around the wiggling things. The littlest bear enjoyed his position, his snout close to hers as he watched her face contort, listening to her loud screams and laughter with glee, though he did occasionally dangle the pair of boots in front of her, just out of her reach while she grabbed at them. He enjoyed every second of the torment he caused her.
But then they got bored and ate her. Except that isn’t really appropriate for a children’s tale (although it happens in half of them anyway, making this censorship a curious one), so everyone says she just ran away, boots and all.
The end
