ElFewja
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This isn’t at all where I was originally going with the story. I’m not entirely unsatisfied – I like the finished product - but I was enough that I wrote a somewhat sequel/related work encompassing what I actually had wanted. Well, even then, the other one isn’t that either.
More on the subject: this is somewhat akin to Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, in that a large person is tickled by many small people. I felt the necessity to include somewhat of a story by inserting a reason as to why she is being tickled, but in retrospect this story would have benefited without it. If it had instead relied upon the psychological aspects of not knowing what was going on, I think it would have been better. I’m still largely experimenting with mystery in stories; it’s not a very strong point of mine.
Well, I finished it as is; I like it but I think certain changes would have made it much better. Anyway, this is fairly short. Enjoy.
Watch Where You Step (Lots/F feet)
For Julia, it had been a normal, uneventful day, right up until, while crossing a field behind her house, she tripped and fell forward, knocking herself into the realm of unconsciousness in the process.
***
When she awoke she knew a large amount of time must have passed, since the sun had fallen far from its zenith, but was overwhelmed by the amount which her entire body ached, though this feeling was secondary to the alarm of being immobile. Long strands of her neck length, dark brown hair appeared to be fastened to the ground by tiny stakes; in fact, the rest of her body appeared to be bound by hundreds of lengths of small twine, fastened to the ground by a multitude of similar tiny stakes, which she assessed as probably being made of wood by their looks. Had it been only one – even several – she could have escaped; but because there were so many, her movements were restricted entirely so that she could not as much as even wiggle a finger or toe.
Because her head was left facing the right of her body, she was able to see the entirety of her right side, though largely what she saw was dirt and blades of grass against a back drop of periwinkle splashed carelessly with white. Movement near her feet caught her attention, met at the same time by the feeling of her brown flip flops being pulled away from her feet, slowly yet consistently. The awareness of the sun’s rays gently beating upon her now exposed heels was lessened by the sight of what appeared to be a tiny man of about an inches height approaching her nose. An equally tiny but thoroughly high pitched voice greeted her, appearing to read aloud from a small scrap of paper. “For the act of decimating half of the populous of Big City, the female giant is condemned to death via any mode found effective upon her. Since no weapon can pierce her thick armor, the culprit is sentenced to death by laughter induced asphyxiation.”
While he read his decree slowly, more and more flesh became bared to the sun and the wind, though guarded slightly by her blue jeans, which happened to be a tad too long, covering half of the arch of her right foot, though the left leg was bare up to its calf as the pant had rolled itself up during her tumble. As each flip flop left her feet, revealing the toe’s bottoms to the warm day, she heard the decree’s end.
Wonder at the situation struck deep at her core; that hammer head of uncertainty shattering her naïve notion of safety as the prickling needles that were fear pierced her perceptions, until at last the unspoken questions were swiftly answered by the many nerve endings upon her toes shrieking cries of defeat, as those digits came alive to her all at once, forcing her to giggle, then laugh. Looking down, she could see her now unprotected, creamy bare foot bottom as at least 20 little men – or women, she couldn’t tell – seemingly assaulted it. She could feel them climbing upon her toes and running up to her heels, and could see clearly as they stripped away that single layer of denim that attempted to guard her flesh, so that they could get at that skin as well, allowing them access to every area of her feet which they instantly covered. As those little people moved, the sensations in her toes began to run through the entirety of her soles. The sensation of hundreds – maybe thousands – of hands groping at, massaging, and licking – she was sure she felt wet sensations akin to what a cats tongue felt like, and pricks that must have been bites accompanying them – at her feet tickled maddeningly, causing her to laugh harder than she ever had before.
Of course, she had been tickled on her precious feet before, but never with such pinpoint accuracy in her worst places such as what now befell her. The toes were the worst, probably because they were the most easily accessible to the little men. There wasn’t a part of them left un-harassed; not a single centimeter that she was unaware of was free of their cruel revenge. They even reached beneath her nails, at the sensitive flesh that resided there, which had never before touched.
In horror, she watched as her entirely immobile feet were made the playground of this tiny race, which enjoyed the tortured laughter that each movement of their tiny fingers forced from her throat. She laughed for long periods of time, stopping every now and then to gasp for air so that she might laugh harder still. Desperately, her eyes darted around the landscape, as she became aware of wind blowing through the leaves of a tree in a similar fashion to how the men dug in-between her toes, grabbing at that secret, private flesh as she sought out her flip flops, the only things that could protect her against these foul things that she could think of.
Though she did struggle, it was of little use, yielding no results as their carefully crafted twine proved quite sturdy. Early on, she had hopes of freeing first a finger, then an entire hand and arm, but those thoughts had diminished long ago. The entirety of her thoughts focused on breaking away from what held her toes and ankles to the earth as she made futile attempts to destroy those bonds, but as time progressed she found that she had not the strength to struggle with even a toe any longer, as all of it was required just to stay sane while she laughed. She sat immobile, no longer fighting against her bonds as the world around her grew dark, though she was forced to remain a part of it by the betrayal of her feet, ablaze with the sensations that they seemed to only exist for.
Soon, her breaths became ragged; unable to laugh for the sensations any longer, she cried instead, wishing for it to end. The sun had set farther, she realized, knowing by its position that she had been tortured now for well over an hour. As her breath became less and less stable, she drifted in and out of a dream like state, imagining that she walked upon the sands of her favorite Jersey shore, the tiny grains wafting back and forth between and underneath her soles, making her want to giggle ferociously.
At long last, she completely lost consciousness.
***
Julia awoke, and by the sun’s location in the sky realized she had been out for at least two hours. She had had the strangest dream; that hundreds of little men rampaged across her soles, enjoying the torturous sensations their movements sent throughout her. As she stood, swaying lightly as she rose, she felt the cool, soft grasp of dirt as it gave way to the flesh of her bare feet. Strange, she thought, as an unprecedented terror set in by her apparent lack of shoes.
More on the subject: this is somewhat akin to Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, in that a large person is tickled by many small people. I felt the necessity to include somewhat of a story by inserting a reason as to why she is being tickled, but in retrospect this story would have benefited without it. If it had instead relied upon the psychological aspects of not knowing what was going on, I think it would have been better. I’m still largely experimenting with mystery in stories; it’s not a very strong point of mine.
Well, I finished it as is; I like it but I think certain changes would have made it much better. Anyway, this is fairly short. Enjoy.
Watch Where You Step (Lots/F feet)
For Julia, it had been a normal, uneventful day, right up until, while crossing a field behind her house, she tripped and fell forward, knocking herself into the realm of unconsciousness in the process.
***
When she awoke she knew a large amount of time must have passed, since the sun had fallen far from its zenith, but was overwhelmed by the amount which her entire body ached, though this feeling was secondary to the alarm of being immobile. Long strands of her neck length, dark brown hair appeared to be fastened to the ground by tiny stakes; in fact, the rest of her body appeared to be bound by hundreds of lengths of small twine, fastened to the ground by a multitude of similar tiny stakes, which she assessed as probably being made of wood by their looks. Had it been only one – even several – she could have escaped; but because there were so many, her movements were restricted entirely so that she could not as much as even wiggle a finger or toe.
Because her head was left facing the right of her body, she was able to see the entirety of her right side, though largely what she saw was dirt and blades of grass against a back drop of periwinkle splashed carelessly with white. Movement near her feet caught her attention, met at the same time by the feeling of her brown flip flops being pulled away from her feet, slowly yet consistently. The awareness of the sun’s rays gently beating upon her now exposed heels was lessened by the sight of what appeared to be a tiny man of about an inches height approaching her nose. An equally tiny but thoroughly high pitched voice greeted her, appearing to read aloud from a small scrap of paper. “For the act of decimating half of the populous of Big City, the female giant is condemned to death via any mode found effective upon her. Since no weapon can pierce her thick armor, the culprit is sentenced to death by laughter induced asphyxiation.”
While he read his decree slowly, more and more flesh became bared to the sun and the wind, though guarded slightly by her blue jeans, which happened to be a tad too long, covering half of the arch of her right foot, though the left leg was bare up to its calf as the pant had rolled itself up during her tumble. As each flip flop left her feet, revealing the toe’s bottoms to the warm day, she heard the decree’s end.
Wonder at the situation struck deep at her core; that hammer head of uncertainty shattering her naïve notion of safety as the prickling needles that were fear pierced her perceptions, until at last the unspoken questions were swiftly answered by the many nerve endings upon her toes shrieking cries of defeat, as those digits came alive to her all at once, forcing her to giggle, then laugh. Looking down, she could see her now unprotected, creamy bare foot bottom as at least 20 little men – or women, she couldn’t tell – seemingly assaulted it. She could feel them climbing upon her toes and running up to her heels, and could see clearly as they stripped away that single layer of denim that attempted to guard her flesh, so that they could get at that skin as well, allowing them access to every area of her feet which they instantly covered. As those little people moved, the sensations in her toes began to run through the entirety of her soles. The sensation of hundreds – maybe thousands – of hands groping at, massaging, and licking – she was sure she felt wet sensations akin to what a cats tongue felt like, and pricks that must have been bites accompanying them – at her feet tickled maddeningly, causing her to laugh harder than she ever had before.
Of course, she had been tickled on her precious feet before, but never with such pinpoint accuracy in her worst places such as what now befell her. The toes were the worst, probably because they were the most easily accessible to the little men. There wasn’t a part of them left un-harassed; not a single centimeter that she was unaware of was free of their cruel revenge. They even reached beneath her nails, at the sensitive flesh that resided there, which had never before touched.
In horror, she watched as her entirely immobile feet were made the playground of this tiny race, which enjoyed the tortured laughter that each movement of their tiny fingers forced from her throat. She laughed for long periods of time, stopping every now and then to gasp for air so that she might laugh harder still. Desperately, her eyes darted around the landscape, as she became aware of wind blowing through the leaves of a tree in a similar fashion to how the men dug in-between her toes, grabbing at that secret, private flesh as she sought out her flip flops, the only things that could protect her against these foul things that she could think of.
Though she did struggle, it was of little use, yielding no results as their carefully crafted twine proved quite sturdy. Early on, she had hopes of freeing first a finger, then an entire hand and arm, but those thoughts had diminished long ago. The entirety of her thoughts focused on breaking away from what held her toes and ankles to the earth as she made futile attempts to destroy those bonds, but as time progressed she found that she had not the strength to struggle with even a toe any longer, as all of it was required just to stay sane while she laughed. She sat immobile, no longer fighting against her bonds as the world around her grew dark, though she was forced to remain a part of it by the betrayal of her feet, ablaze with the sensations that they seemed to only exist for.
Soon, her breaths became ragged; unable to laugh for the sensations any longer, she cried instead, wishing for it to end. The sun had set farther, she realized, knowing by its position that she had been tortured now for well over an hour. As her breath became less and less stable, she drifted in and out of a dream like state, imagining that she walked upon the sands of her favorite Jersey shore, the tiny grains wafting back and forth between and underneath her soles, making her want to giggle ferociously.
At long last, she completely lost consciousness.
***
Julia awoke, and by the sun’s location in the sky realized she had been out for at least two hours. She had had the strangest dream; that hundreds of little men rampaged across her soles, enjoying the torturous sensations their movements sent throughout her. As she stood, swaying lightly as she rose, she felt the cool, soft grasp of dirt as it gave way to the flesh of her bare feet. Strange, she thought, as an unprecedented terror set in by her apparent lack of shoes.
