OnlyForNow2015
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- Joined
- Nov 27, 2014
- Messages
- 19
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"What do you think you're doing in here lady? Get the f-"
That was all the shirtless 18 year old boy had time to say before Officer Katrina had short-range tased him. Right in the dead center of his stomach, the man yelped and yowled backwards and onto the floor. She was down on him in a moment, flipping him to cuff him and then with amazing strength, hoisting him up and tossing him onto the couch nearby. She had just entered the house, whose door was ajar, because she was responding to a noise complaint in the area and had seen it open. She had just intended to ask questions to whoever had lived here, but she was accosted very aggressively by this young man.
"Young man I don't know who you are but you are under arrest for intimidating and approaching a police officer maliciously."
"WHAT? No I didn't." he pleaded. His name was Max and he was not home alone. The bedroom door nearby opened and out stepped his mother, groggy and exhausted but looking worried at what was going on. Officer Katrina raised her taser. "Relax ma'am. Your son has assaulted me, I'm afraid I have to book him." She wasn't really going to book him. Katrina had done this about a half-dozen times before to get her rocks off. This exact scenario. So many young men and their mothers that she had conned into this scenario. This time felt as sweet as all the rest.
Per usual, the mother pleaded.
Per usual, Officer Katrina said her lines.
"Ma'am, I'm afraid it is of my professional opinion and my authoritative ability to say your son is in need of anger counseling. this sort of counsel can be court-ordered and appointed by a judge, and arresting your son will get him the help he needs and streamline it that much faster. I'm not pressing charges but you must see how this will help him."
More pleading. More begging. Finally, it was time for Officer Katrina to say what she got wet hearing her own words speak.
With a sigh, seeming reluctant but anything but, the officer would look down at the handcuffed son on the couch, the crying pleading mother, and she would say it. "I guess I can look the other way on this one, just this one time, but..." and the but had to have the perfect pause afterward, to instill enough hope so that the mom will agree once the thing is uttered.
"But," said Officer Katrina, "you have to let me teach you an anger management technique. For your son." She was addressing the mother. "It's for this area's own good. If you let me teach you, I won't bring him anywhere."
YES is what Mom would say.
= = =
And that was the day that bitch officer got my mom to start tickling me.
I'm still 18. It's been four months. She told her it was to keep me from getting so angry but I swear she uses it for everything. That bitch officer, she gae my mom 6 pairs of handcuffs.
I'm a small guy, a weakling if there ever was one. Mom is a bigger lady and so are her friends. It doesn't take much for them to raid me while I'm in my room and decide they want to entertain themselves with a little tickle tickle for Max. They grab me from my room and they giggle like hens. Mom runs a hand on my face and says, "It won't be so bad this time sweetie. Even if Helen got new nails." Helen always gets new nails and they're always acrylic. The only one of the four of them who had any, but the short nails on Mom, her best friend Jill, and our neighbor Ms. Sally. Oh I hate it when Mom calls over Ms. Sally. As I said, Mom and two of her friends are big enough to overpower me, but Ms. Sally is thin and tall and her touch makes me feel... something.
Which makes it confusing when Mom is right beside her and tickling me symmetrically. Oh no. One time it was just Mom and Ms. Sally over for the afternoon. They told me they'd buy me dinner if I let them put me in the tickle room for ten minutes. They made it last over 20, and they just did my feet. Ms. Sally tickling all up and down my right foot with her hands? LOVED IT. and I wanted to show her I loved it so much if it weren't for Mom doing the very very same thing to my left.
So today started out like a lot of days. Mom and Jill pin me as they handcuff me into this bed in the spare room, Helen was up near my face and coo giggling about her new pink nails and how I was going to be as pink as they were by the time they were through. Ms. Sally eyed me in a way that I felt was flirtatious every time, and she was always the one who would give my nipples little pinches when getting my upper-body. God I loved that. I'm so glad Mom never did that after she did it. But Helen did once, and the acrylics made me scream.
All of a sudden I felt acrylics on my bare stomach. The spot that the officer had tased and made super sensitive, still to this day. That was so long ago and the spot made me howl and squirm and scream for dear life. A second hand of acrylics. But wait, Helen isn't tickling me. That's... yep, fucking Jill. Jill got acrylics too. Then I felt Mom's swirly soft hands between them and it made me start to buckle as that sensation always does.
From there it was all a blur, but Helen took the helm at my feet and Ms. Sally at a lovely middle to my thighs. I screamed per usual, they all teased me and laughed per usual.
All as usual, right?
Wrong.
There was a knock at the door this time.
And then Mom smiled.
And then Mom told me the ghastly news.
"Your sister comes home from Yonkers tonight," she says it as if casually. "She's being driven by Aunt Lins. Cousin Stacy's coming for the ride too. Cousin Mary and Cousin Marsha too."
No. Please. Not, not, not ni-
= = =
It was ten minutes later I was gagged, bound tighter, naked, covered in baby oil, and cruelly left unblindfolded. Nine girls stood over me. Mom, my aunt, my sister, cousins, the neighbor, friends.
"The oil will take another five minutes to dry and take effect," Mom said cheerily. "Did all you girls bring the stuff I asked you to?" They had. All of them have variations of feathers, peacook feathers and seagull feathers and the kind you get at a party store. The cousins had acrylics on. My sister had soft satin socks on, which I know for a fact she would use on me because she did the first time Mom showed her how ticklish I was. like a month ago. damnit.
They all spent those five minutes listing off all my tickle spots to me and "ooh"ing and "aah"ing, giggling at the mention of a couple and making me blush when Ms. Sally let the beans spill about my nipples. Damnit damnit damnit Ms. Sally that was supposed to be our spot. I tried so hard to ignore them and block all the ticklish words out and I nearly succeeded, but, nothing could have guarded me from hearing that one fateful word five minutes later. Mom said it. And so acted everyone.
"Begin."
That was all the shirtless 18 year old boy had time to say before Officer Katrina had short-range tased him. Right in the dead center of his stomach, the man yelped and yowled backwards and onto the floor. She was down on him in a moment, flipping him to cuff him and then with amazing strength, hoisting him up and tossing him onto the couch nearby. She had just entered the house, whose door was ajar, because she was responding to a noise complaint in the area and had seen it open. She had just intended to ask questions to whoever had lived here, but she was accosted very aggressively by this young man.
"Young man I don't know who you are but you are under arrest for intimidating and approaching a police officer maliciously."
"WHAT? No I didn't." he pleaded. His name was Max and he was not home alone. The bedroom door nearby opened and out stepped his mother, groggy and exhausted but looking worried at what was going on. Officer Katrina raised her taser. "Relax ma'am. Your son has assaulted me, I'm afraid I have to book him." She wasn't really going to book him. Katrina had done this about a half-dozen times before to get her rocks off. This exact scenario. So many young men and their mothers that she had conned into this scenario. This time felt as sweet as all the rest.
Per usual, the mother pleaded.
Per usual, Officer Katrina said her lines.
"Ma'am, I'm afraid it is of my professional opinion and my authoritative ability to say your son is in need of anger counseling. this sort of counsel can be court-ordered and appointed by a judge, and arresting your son will get him the help he needs and streamline it that much faster. I'm not pressing charges but you must see how this will help him."
More pleading. More begging. Finally, it was time for Officer Katrina to say what she got wet hearing her own words speak.
With a sigh, seeming reluctant but anything but, the officer would look down at the handcuffed son on the couch, the crying pleading mother, and she would say it. "I guess I can look the other way on this one, just this one time, but..." and the but had to have the perfect pause afterward, to instill enough hope so that the mom will agree once the thing is uttered.
"But," said Officer Katrina, "you have to let me teach you an anger management technique. For your son." She was addressing the mother. "It's for this area's own good. If you let me teach you, I won't bring him anywhere."
YES is what Mom would say.
= = =
And that was the day that bitch officer got my mom to start tickling me.
I'm still 18. It's been four months. She told her it was to keep me from getting so angry but I swear she uses it for everything. That bitch officer, she gae my mom 6 pairs of handcuffs.
I'm a small guy, a weakling if there ever was one. Mom is a bigger lady and so are her friends. It doesn't take much for them to raid me while I'm in my room and decide they want to entertain themselves with a little tickle tickle for Max. They grab me from my room and they giggle like hens. Mom runs a hand on my face and says, "It won't be so bad this time sweetie. Even if Helen got new nails." Helen always gets new nails and they're always acrylic. The only one of the four of them who had any, but the short nails on Mom, her best friend Jill, and our neighbor Ms. Sally. Oh I hate it when Mom calls over Ms. Sally. As I said, Mom and two of her friends are big enough to overpower me, but Ms. Sally is thin and tall and her touch makes me feel... something.
Which makes it confusing when Mom is right beside her and tickling me symmetrically. Oh no. One time it was just Mom and Ms. Sally over for the afternoon. They told me they'd buy me dinner if I let them put me in the tickle room for ten minutes. They made it last over 20, and they just did my feet. Ms. Sally tickling all up and down my right foot with her hands? LOVED IT. and I wanted to show her I loved it so much if it weren't for Mom doing the very very same thing to my left.
So today started out like a lot of days. Mom and Jill pin me as they handcuff me into this bed in the spare room, Helen was up near my face and coo giggling about her new pink nails and how I was going to be as pink as they were by the time they were through. Ms. Sally eyed me in a way that I felt was flirtatious every time, and she was always the one who would give my nipples little pinches when getting my upper-body. God I loved that. I'm so glad Mom never did that after she did it. But Helen did once, and the acrylics made me scream.
All of a sudden I felt acrylics on my bare stomach. The spot that the officer had tased and made super sensitive, still to this day. That was so long ago and the spot made me howl and squirm and scream for dear life. A second hand of acrylics. But wait, Helen isn't tickling me. That's... yep, fucking Jill. Jill got acrylics too. Then I felt Mom's swirly soft hands between them and it made me start to buckle as that sensation always does.
From there it was all a blur, but Helen took the helm at my feet and Ms. Sally at a lovely middle to my thighs. I screamed per usual, they all teased me and laughed per usual.
All as usual, right?
Wrong.
There was a knock at the door this time.
And then Mom smiled.
And then Mom told me the ghastly news.
"Your sister comes home from Yonkers tonight," she says it as if casually. "She's being driven by Aunt Lins. Cousin Stacy's coming for the ride too. Cousin Mary and Cousin Marsha too."
No. Please. Not, not, not ni-
= = =
It was ten minutes later I was gagged, bound tighter, naked, covered in baby oil, and cruelly left unblindfolded. Nine girls stood over me. Mom, my aunt, my sister, cousins, the neighbor, friends.
"The oil will take another five minutes to dry and take effect," Mom said cheerily. "Did all you girls bring the stuff I asked you to?" They had. All of them have variations of feathers, peacook feathers and seagull feathers and the kind you get at a party store. The cousins had acrylics on. My sister had soft satin socks on, which I know for a fact she would use on me because she did the first time Mom showed her how ticklish I was. like a month ago. damnit.
They all spent those five minutes listing off all my tickle spots to me and "ooh"ing and "aah"ing, giggling at the mention of a couple and making me blush when Ms. Sally let the beans spill about my nipples. Damnit damnit damnit Ms. Sally that was supposed to be our spot. I tried so hard to ignore them and block all the ticklish words out and I nearly succeeded, but, nothing could have guarded me from hearing that one fateful word five minutes later. Mom said it. And so acted everyone.
"Begin."
Please continue it.
