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Rockauthor
04-21-2001, 12:23 AM
MADONNA


Starring in




A Ticklish Nightmare
(A ticklish celebrity fantasy)




His name was Gary Steward. Gary was 29 years old and was of average height and build. He had green eyes, dishwater blonde hair, and a dark, full beard. For the most part, Gary Steward was as normal as any ordinary red-blooded American male: He had a 9 to 5 job, a beautiful wife and two wonderful kids, he paid his taxes, and he even called his mother, at least, twice a year.
But there was one thing in particular that made this MIT Alumnus different from most people - Gary Steward had E.S.P. Yes, a geniune psychic. And definitely not one of those phoney-baloney tarot card readers you see on television on those nights that you can’t sleep.
No.
Gary Steward was the real thing.
In a secret military experiment conducted with the cooperation of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Gary Steward - along with three other selected students - were participants in a project called Dream Writer.
Dream Writer was mankind’s first successful attempt at entering and manipulating a person’s dreams. They could all tap into the brainwaves of an individual’s subconscious mind and create a dream out of anything their crafty imaginations could think of. It was a project that was destined to remain in indefinite anonymity. And to this day, Gary Steward never told his family about his secret power or what he did with it in his spare time.
Gary was also a huge fan of Madonna. Ever since he was in junior high, Gary had the biggest crush on the Material Girl. From Like A Virgin to Like A Prayer, If Madonna’s name was on it, the CD was in his collection. He had every pin-up, autographed poster, every ticket stub from all the times he saw her concert, and even a DVD of every single horrible movie Madonna ever made. It’s safe to say that this modest man was reasonably obesessed with the recording artist.
Oh. There is one more thing about Gary Steward I think you should know about. He had an intense, secret fetish that along with Dream Writer, he never dared reveal to his wife. Ever since he could remember, Gary always had this thing for tickling women. He loved to fantasize about having a hot chick tied up on his bed and slowly pulling her T-shirt up and tickling her out of her mind.
Specifically though, he had a fondness for tickle-torturing the exposed torso of an attractive female victim. Whether it was her sides, her ribcage, her belly, or the super sensitive depths of her belly button, just seeing a pretty girl’s bare midriff drove Gary absolutely crazy.
Occasionally, Gary would give his wife a quick squeeze around her waist and made her giggle and jerk away, but she never knew of his intense fetish for tickling or his clandestine plan to enter the dreams of the Material Girl herself and giving the pop star A TICKLISH NIGHTMARE.
Well, the day finally came when Gary Steward would execute his devious plot. In the past, Gary had entered the minds of several attractive women, from his college days and since, to tickle them in their dreams: That sexy redhead in his data entry class at MIT, the teenage daughters of his neighbors on the block, and even the cute, Mexican nanny that he recently hired. But, none of his previous endeavors compared to finally preparing for his “dream date” with Madonna.
It was a Saturday afternoon and Gary Steward had been using his other psychic powers to follow the whereabouts of the singer. Lucky for Gary, she just happened to be taking a nap in her hotel room. Now there were three things a psychic had to do before they could engage in Dream Writer:

1. They had to fast for 48 hours - only drinking the minimum daily requirement of water was permitted.

2. They had to meditate for at least an hour, taking deep breaths and being totally relaxed.

3. They had to been no more than twenty miles aware from their targeted individual. As fate would have it, Gary lived in the New York area and Madonna was performing later that night, not far from his house.

With the wife and kids out of the house for a while, Gary was set to go. The setting he chose was a dark void with a lone light shone over the unsuspecting pop star who was stretched out on her bed with her wrists and ankles tied down at the head and foot of her bed. The lovely singer was dressed in a white T-shirt and faded blue jeans. There was a look of confusion and trepidation in her eyes as the image of Gary manifested into the dream. Madonna began to struggle in her bondage, but to no avail.
“WHO-WHO ARE YOU?” Madonna asked.
“I’m someone who has waited a long time for this moment, my dear. Now I’ve got you where I want you.” Gary replied, approaching the pop star with an ominous grin. “ You are about to be tickled like you’ve never been tickled before.” With that, Gary turned his fingers into ten stiff, soft feathers and sat on the bed next to Madonna. He began wriggling the feathers menacingly at her.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOOOOO!” Madonna wailed. Her eyes were wide with anguished delight. She writhed and squired in her binds. She tossed her head from side to side. Even in her dreams, Madonna was EXTREMELY TICKLISH.
Slowly and methodically, Gary’s feathers made a ticklish trek all over the beautiful woman’s cute belly. He traced along and invaded that world famous abyss known as her belly button.
Madonna went berserk!
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH ! THAT TICKLES! STOP! PLEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEASE! HAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!”
After what seemed like an eternity, Gary dissisted his tickle attack. He then used his mind to restore his fingers back to his natural form. Then he climbed on top of the Material Girl and straddled her.
Continuing where he had left off, he dug his fingers into the sides of Madonna’s expecially ticklish waist, gently and ticklishly massaging her ribcage, and at one point, even disembodying his fingers and turning them into minuature versions of her backup dancers who danced a ticklish groove all over Madonna’s belly while “Beautiful Stranger” played in the background.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OOOHOOHOO HOOHOOHOOHOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHA! OH! OH! HAHAHA! THAT TICKLES SO MUCH! HAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHEEEEEEEE!”
Then Gary disappered into the void with remnants of what looked like pockets of smoke following. The next thing Madonna knew, she was in an upright position. Her torso still exposed and body still immobile. She noticed that her arms and legs had disappeared into the shadows of the dark void and only the rest of her body shone in the light.
Madonna screamed when she looked in front of her a saw what looked to be dozens of dissembodied mouths approaching her helplessly exposed bare midriff, with wild, wiggling tongues. Strategically, the mouths began attacking the Material Girl at all those special tickle spots on her torso, licking and nibbling and vibrating and sucking.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! OOH! OOH! STOP! STOP! AAAAAAAGH! THAT TICKLES! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! PLEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEASE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! I CAN’T HAHAHAHAHAHA STAND BEING AAAAAAAAAAGH TICKLED! PLEASE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEEHEEEHEEHEE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I BEG OF YOU! OOH! OOH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! MERCY! AAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THAT TICKLES! THAT TICKLES! HAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEASE! NOOOOOOOOOOO! NO, NOT THERE! AAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHEEHEE STOP IT! STOP IT!”
Madonna was in ticklish agony. The dream was so vivid. It seemed so real. Madonna laughed so loud and wriggled so hard that it woke her out of her nap. She lay on her bed in her hotel room with her arms wrapped around body and curled into a fetal position. She was sweating profusely and her long blonde hair was matted to her face. The singer was breathing heavily, gasped to catch her breath.
That was when her husband, Guy Ritchie, walked in from the living room:
“What’s so funny?” He asked.
“Huh?” She responded, smiling but confused.
“I was watching the game and heard you laughing. I thought you said you were going to take a nap.”
“I was asleep. I guess I had a funny dream.” She lied, too embarassed to tell what she was really dreaming about.
Guy just laughed at her and went back into the living room to finish watching the game. As she got out of bed, a shiver went up Madonna’s spine as she recalled her ticklish ordeal. As for Gary Steward, it was another successful implement of Dream Writer. He returned back to the real world safely and satisfied. He promised himself and his peers that he would never abuse his secret power, but you can bet that the Madonna will definitely get another visit from that nameless tickler, sometime in the future.









THE END

Wally West
01-21-2007, 12:40 AM
Great story. :bump:

Mark Diplock
01-21-2007, 05:26 AM
:wow:

You really have been busy.
This is the first story i've read in your selection of posts. I like it.
If only life would mimic this story and it got out on video.