BayernBeatdown
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Feb 27, 2014
- Messages
- 60
- Points
- 6
The day I'd been dreading for weeks was here, the tickling community gathering. I was a mix of fear yet almost equal excitement from the sheer unknown it represented. My mistress Antonia, a 39-year old curvy private chef, hadn't told me anything about the meeting because I don't think she knew much more than I did.
Mistress Mae, a very busty Hmong woman who had recently tortured me half to death, invited the two of us over dinner after said torture. It's just incredible how in a matter of a few months I'd gone from a 19-year-old freshman in college to a live-in tickle toy. What's even more incredible was the fact I've come to enjoy it.
“Are you ready for tonight,” Antonia said during breakfast of Belgian waffles, which quickly became my favorite. “I'm sorry I can't tell you much about it. Mae swore me to secrecy and we both know how dangerous she can be.”
I only nodded in agreement, shivering at the memory of being tied up in the tickle swing in the basement for what must have been several hours of torture at the hands of Mae. My readiness was not of Mae's concern, in fact I think she gets off of keeping things secret from her tickle toys.
After breakfast, I got dressed for the day. I decided on a yellow v-neck top and blue jeans to go along with a pale yellow bra and pantie set. Antonia had requested I wear a push-up bra for tonight, so even though my top wasn't particularly revealing, my DD's were on display still with my blonde hair spilling over them for partial cover.
When Antonia got back from the restaurant we milled about a bit before taking off to the meeting, which I discovered was at an old abandoned warehouse Mae had converted to fit just these types of occasions. From the moment I walked in I could hear laughter filling the air as mistresses were tickling slaves all around playfully, and not just their own.
It was obvious everyone in attendance was a regular, except for us. Upon our arrival the mistresses could almost smell the new blood in the water, my blood. A middle-aged woman approached Antonia and I. I pegged her for early 50s but it was evident her looks had not faded in the least.
She introduced herself as Kelly and said her own slave was busy currently and asked Antonia if she'd lend her me for a few minutes to keep her fingers warm. Although she was apprehensive, Antonia agreed to the request not wanting to be rude and figured the woman would return the favor sometime in the night.
“Ooo, you two will need these,” Kelly said handing us red and blue stamps for our right hands. “Mistresses wear red and slaves blue. Anyone without one is assumed solo, tickler or not, and free game for everyone as the price for admittance.”
Antonia wasted no time using her red stamper as several women were poking her already causing giggles to escape. It was also explained with my blue stamp, anyone wishing to tickle me must have permission before doing so or risk punishment. That's not to say an occasional squeeze of my sides and ribs didn't occur, accidentally of course.
Before we parted, Antonia gave Kelly temporary tickle rights to me which meant she could grant other mistresses permission to tickle me. It basically meant for the next hour, I was property of Kelly.
Kelly and I walked over to a chair where I was asked to sit and place my feet on an ottoman. I wasn't stupid enough to not see where this was headed. With my feet up, Kelly began busily untying my size 7 shoes and removing my socks. She was soon running her nails across my soles sending me into spurts of laughter.
My laughter was like throwing chum in the water around a group of sharks, as several women approached Kelly to lend a helping hand with my feet. Not wanting to be greedy, she looked me in the eyes with a mischievous smile and graciously accepted. I now had one permanent set of nails working my right arch in addition to many others on the left using various techniques.
The more laughter Kelly and her cohorts elicited from me, the more women wanted to have a go.
Most simply used their nails or fingers while some employed feathers or hairbrushes. Nothing compared to one mistress who utilized her tongue. She had to of been taught by Mae because after licking up and down my soles she'd rake her long nails over them after they'd been slicked. Before moving on, she began to suck on my toes popping them in and out of her mouth which made me moan slightly.
As the even wore on women, slaves and mistresses alike, were beginning to lose clothing as the night progressed. I was no exception as a rather beautiful mistress said she'd love to have my top for her collection, having already collected at least 10 other tops of various styles from slaves. I looked at Kelly who gave me a nod of approval and like that I peeled off my yellow top, now sitting in just my bra with plenty of flesh newly exposed.
Not long after Kelly stopped tickling my feet and told me to get up. I was led to a back wall with cuffs draping the whole thing. Slaves of all shapes and sizes were lined up, arms above their heads being tormented. One woman in particular, a petite redhead, was completely naked and her armpits were being expertly attacked with a line forming for a chance to send her into hysterics.
Just as with the chair, I knew what my fate entailed. I noticed a dry erase board was next to each slave/victim with specific instructions as to when they were to be released and/or particularly ticklish areas.
Kelly turned to me and said “I'm more of a foot gal but it'd be a shame if you didn't take a turn along the wall. I only have 15 minutes left on my tickle rights BUT that isn't nearly long enough. How about you stay here for, say, an hour. I'll be sure Antonia knows where you are.”
With that, she wrote I was to be let go at 8 p.m. and cuffed me to the wall, but not before taking my bra as a souvenir before she did. She also wrote “do as you please” underneath the time and went on to find another pair of feet to tickle.
Now I was in big trouble. I was standing right next to the popular petite redhead, whose line noticed fresh meat. Women were racing from the back of the line to be the first in mine. It was the perfect contrast, the redheads mosquito bites to my melons.
The first woman in line, much to my misfortune, was a cleavage enthusiast. I was ordered to start jumping, making my breasts bounce up and down for this woman's amusement, and everyone around us. After hopping like the Easter bunny, the sides and tops of my naked breasts were being tickled creating another show.
With me only set to be tied for an hour, the protocol for my tickling was different than all the other women. Everyone else got one tickler at a time, but for me sharing was apparently caring with the same original woman tickling my breasts with another focusing on my pits and another grabbing my feet.
The more I begged for mercy the more intense they tickled me. I didn't know which spot was worse for me as they picked my greatest hits. I'd try to squirm away from the underarm tickling, which emboldened the one at my breasts which made the woman at my feet pick up her pace. I just couldn't win.
I was a complete mess of tears and sweat covering my body. I wasn't given a moments rest as wave after wave of ticklers took their turn. Whenever someone left the woman who replaced her would pick a new spot to torment it seemed. My pits or feet would receive a reprieve only to have my ribs, tummy or ass tickled instead.
I had no idea how long I'd been cuffed when I saw Antonia standing alongside me before she slowly and lovingly brushed my hair out of my face. She uncuffed my arms and supported my weight as she led me to a back room where I could get something to drink and recover.
When I'd began to compose myself she struck up a conversation.
“Enjoying yourself so far,” she asked me.
My mind wanted to scream hell no, but instead I whimpered yes.
“Great,” she said enthusiastically. “Because I have a surprise for you. Wait right here.”
With how tired I was even if I wanted to move I couldn't. Antonia returned, knocked on the door and told me to close my eyes and keep them closed until she said. I did as my mistress commanded, feeling something on my hand along with another set of footsteps.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Antonia standing next to a completely naked Kelly. I also noticed my blue stamp had been replaced by a red one. Putting two and two together I immediately got excited. My brain was swimming with questions and all I could blurt out to Antonia was a combination of nonsensical questions.
“I'm so happy you're this excited,” she said lovingly. “Long story short, Kelly made the mistake of tickling my ribs without permission when I was talking with Mae.”
“I thought you were my slave!” Kelly said with a terrified tone in her voice. Antonia continued on, not even acknowledging Kelly's existence at the moment.
“Her punishment, as ordered by Mae, was to allow me to assume tickle rights for Kelly and her slave the rest of the night. Not needing three slaves, I locked up Kelly's slave along the upperbody tickling wall until I see fit and decided to loan Kelly herself out to you for two hours.”
I quickly began to look over my new slave, which just that alone was enough to get me going. I was sent into overdrive when I examined Kelly's flawless figure. Her still perky C-cup breasts were draped by her shoulder length auburn hair and had a nice round ass.
“Don't get too excited though dear,” Antonia said. “Making you a mistress, even for two hours, came at a price.”
My mood definitely took a downturn upon that news as I wondered what could possibly be in store.
“There's a special competition at the end of the night Mae said and mistresses typically volunteer their slaves for it. Well, consider yourself volunteered.”
The knot in my stomach from hearing that was the size of a jumbo pretzel, especially when I saw a giant smirk go across Kelly's face. Thankfully, I had the next two hours to wipe that smirk off.
The three of us walked out of the room back into the main atrium which the second we entered the sounds of maniacal laughter could be heard once again. Upon our re-entry, Mae walked up to me and Kelly.
“I hope you enjoy your present,” Mae said smiling. “If you torture her anything like you did your mistress she's in for a world of trouble.”
It now was Kelly's turn to look despondent, which warmed my heart.
Mae mentioned there's a special room Kelly would be perfect for, so she led the way. We entered the room and there were four laughing women laying down on gurneys but their feet were sticking through the wall. In the corner, mounted, was a giant TV screen which showed why they were laughing so much. On the other side of the wall were lines of mistresses tickling these poor helpless slaves feet.
Knowing Kelly was a foot gal, per her own admission, I had little doubt her own feet were deathly ticklish. She pleaded with me for several seconds before Mae gave her a look to which she reluctantly climbed up on the gurney and stuck her feet through the wall.
Within a minute, Kelly's head burst out into gut-wrenching laughter as I saw 20 nails dancing along her soles on the monitor. With this room being designed for foot torture, none of the now five women were tied down in anyway along their upperbody so if I wanted to get some action there I'd have to work for it.
I climbed on top of Kelly's gurney, pinning her arms at her side with my thighs and began a full on tickle assault of her ribs. There was nothing she could do as she was already weakened from the foot tickling in addition to my prodding fingers. Each poke of her ribs made her ample bosom shake which only gave me more reason to attack.
“I'm going to torture you silly you tickle tickle slut,” I whispered in her ear before giving it a playful nibble as tears rolled down her cheek.
During all of this, I didn't notice Mae open a second set of holes for another set of feet to go through the wall. My feet. Just as quickly as they descended upon Kelly's tootsies, mine were now coming under constant fire from an assortment of fingers, nails and even tongues.
In between my laughter I asked Mae why she was doing this and the answer I got was so cold I thought I'd freeze.
“Because, you're a slave Julia and slaves get tickled. No red dot on our hand is going to change that.”
If Mae had been carrying a microphone she'd have dropped it after that last line as she walked out of the room as now six women were having their feet cruelly tortured.
The only saving grace I had in this situation was I was in position to dish out some serious payback to Kelly. Or so I thought.
During my conversation with Mae and subsequent foot torture, Kelly had freed her arms and was now skittering her nails along the undersides of my breasts. I had no choice but to shake my DD's to try and avoid her expert nails.
I wanted to fight back but there were now two tongues lapping my soles which was too much for my mind to process. All I could do was sit there and take the torture that awaited me.
Kelly's fingers began to dig into the ribs beneath my breasts causing me to cackle like I was some cheap witch at a haunted house during Halloween. My only solace was watching Kelly laugh from the treatment her feet were receiving as she was almost bucking me off from all the belly laughter.
Soon, I was once again caught unawares as there was a loud beeping noise as one after the other the stocks in the wall were lifting for the four women in the room with us. They must have been set on timers because there was no one else who could have done that.
This caused Kelly and I problems on two fronts. First, all the hungry foot ticklers out there were now left with just four options. Second, these women had just spent an unknown amount of time laughing their heads off and they wanted some revenge anyway they could get it.
The two of us must have looked like juicy Christmas hams to these four tickle-starved slaves. The good news was Kelly wasn't tickling my upperbody. The bad news, I had two strangers running their hands and nails all over my naked body sending me into ticklish convulsions.
My arms were lifted behind my head as a set of nails were running up and down my sides into my underarms and back. Through my tear-soaked eyes I could see Kelly suffering an identical fate as me.
We both almost passed out several times from the tickling and loss of oxygen from the non-stop laughter but these women were beyond cruel. Everytime either of us was about to black out they stopped and focused on other one.
This carried on for at least an hour and a half until they simply stopped. Not just these four women in the room with us, but the mistresses tickling our feet. Everyone stopped tickling entirely. After an entire evening with laughter being the only constant, there was an eerie silence that was almost deafening.
The same sound as earlier broke up the silence as our feet were freed and we slowly climbed down off the gurney. We stepped out of the room into the now pitch black. I couldn't see where I was going as I bumped into several upset mistresses and/or slaves.
Just as I was beginning to adjust to the darkness, the main stage in the center of the room lit up like a roman candle. There stood Mae in the center of the stage alongside three gigantic X-frames. The silence in the room was shattered when Mae spoke through a microphone and said.... “Will Julia, Tiffany and Maggie please report to the stage.”
I had no idea who Tiffany and Maggie were but I had a good idea none of us were going to like what comes next.
..................
Alright, you know the drill. If I didn't completely lose everyone with my latest installment I'll work on the conclusion to the series. As always, comments/thoughts are encouraged. Seeing as this will be the final, thought I'd be nice and see what the readers want to see before I bid adieu to Julia.
Mistress Mae, a very busty Hmong woman who had recently tortured me half to death, invited the two of us over dinner after said torture. It's just incredible how in a matter of a few months I'd gone from a 19-year-old freshman in college to a live-in tickle toy. What's even more incredible was the fact I've come to enjoy it.
“Are you ready for tonight,” Antonia said during breakfast of Belgian waffles, which quickly became my favorite. “I'm sorry I can't tell you much about it. Mae swore me to secrecy and we both know how dangerous she can be.”
I only nodded in agreement, shivering at the memory of being tied up in the tickle swing in the basement for what must have been several hours of torture at the hands of Mae. My readiness was not of Mae's concern, in fact I think she gets off of keeping things secret from her tickle toys.
After breakfast, I got dressed for the day. I decided on a yellow v-neck top and blue jeans to go along with a pale yellow bra and pantie set. Antonia had requested I wear a push-up bra for tonight, so even though my top wasn't particularly revealing, my DD's were on display still with my blonde hair spilling over them for partial cover.
When Antonia got back from the restaurant we milled about a bit before taking off to the meeting, which I discovered was at an old abandoned warehouse Mae had converted to fit just these types of occasions. From the moment I walked in I could hear laughter filling the air as mistresses were tickling slaves all around playfully, and not just their own.
It was obvious everyone in attendance was a regular, except for us. Upon our arrival the mistresses could almost smell the new blood in the water, my blood. A middle-aged woman approached Antonia and I. I pegged her for early 50s but it was evident her looks had not faded in the least.
She introduced herself as Kelly and said her own slave was busy currently and asked Antonia if she'd lend her me for a few minutes to keep her fingers warm. Although she was apprehensive, Antonia agreed to the request not wanting to be rude and figured the woman would return the favor sometime in the night.
“Ooo, you two will need these,” Kelly said handing us red and blue stamps for our right hands. “Mistresses wear red and slaves blue. Anyone without one is assumed solo, tickler or not, and free game for everyone as the price for admittance.”
Antonia wasted no time using her red stamper as several women were poking her already causing giggles to escape. It was also explained with my blue stamp, anyone wishing to tickle me must have permission before doing so or risk punishment. That's not to say an occasional squeeze of my sides and ribs didn't occur, accidentally of course.
Before we parted, Antonia gave Kelly temporary tickle rights to me which meant she could grant other mistresses permission to tickle me. It basically meant for the next hour, I was property of Kelly.
Kelly and I walked over to a chair where I was asked to sit and place my feet on an ottoman. I wasn't stupid enough to not see where this was headed. With my feet up, Kelly began busily untying my size 7 shoes and removing my socks. She was soon running her nails across my soles sending me into spurts of laughter.
My laughter was like throwing chum in the water around a group of sharks, as several women approached Kelly to lend a helping hand with my feet. Not wanting to be greedy, she looked me in the eyes with a mischievous smile and graciously accepted. I now had one permanent set of nails working my right arch in addition to many others on the left using various techniques.
The more laughter Kelly and her cohorts elicited from me, the more women wanted to have a go.
Most simply used their nails or fingers while some employed feathers or hairbrushes. Nothing compared to one mistress who utilized her tongue. She had to of been taught by Mae because after licking up and down my soles she'd rake her long nails over them after they'd been slicked. Before moving on, she began to suck on my toes popping them in and out of her mouth which made me moan slightly.
As the even wore on women, slaves and mistresses alike, were beginning to lose clothing as the night progressed. I was no exception as a rather beautiful mistress said she'd love to have my top for her collection, having already collected at least 10 other tops of various styles from slaves. I looked at Kelly who gave me a nod of approval and like that I peeled off my yellow top, now sitting in just my bra with plenty of flesh newly exposed.
Not long after Kelly stopped tickling my feet and told me to get up. I was led to a back wall with cuffs draping the whole thing. Slaves of all shapes and sizes were lined up, arms above their heads being tormented. One woman in particular, a petite redhead, was completely naked and her armpits were being expertly attacked with a line forming for a chance to send her into hysterics.
Just as with the chair, I knew what my fate entailed. I noticed a dry erase board was next to each slave/victim with specific instructions as to when they were to be released and/or particularly ticklish areas.
Kelly turned to me and said “I'm more of a foot gal but it'd be a shame if you didn't take a turn along the wall. I only have 15 minutes left on my tickle rights BUT that isn't nearly long enough. How about you stay here for, say, an hour. I'll be sure Antonia knows where you are.”
With that, she wrote I was to be let go at 8 p.m. and cuffed me to the wall, but not before taking my bra as a souvenir before she did. She also wrote “do as you please” underneath the time and went on to find another pair of feet to tickle.
Now I was in big trouble. I was standing right next to the popular petite redhead, whose line noticed fresh meat. Women were racing from the back of the line to be the first in mine. It was the perfect contrast, the redheads mosquito bites to my melons.
The first woman in line, much to my misfortune, was a cleavage enthusiast. I was ordered to start jumping, making my breasts bounce up and down for this woman's amusement, and everyone around us. After hopping like the Easter bunny, the sides and tops of my naked breasts were being tickled creating another show.
With me only set to be tied for an hour, the protocol for my tickling was different than all the other women. Everyone else got one tickler at a time, but for me sharing was apparently caring with the same original woman tickling my breasts with another focusing on my pits and another grabbing my feet.
The more I begged for mercy the more intense they tickled me. I didn't know which spot was worse for me as they picked my greatest hits. I'd try to squirm away from the underarm tickling, which emboldened the one at my breasts which made the woman at my feet pick up her pace. I just couldn't win.
I was a complete mess of tears and sweat covering my body. I wasn't given a moments rest as wave after wave of ticklers took their turn. Whenever someone left the woman who replaced her would pick a new spot to torment it seemed. My pits or feet would receive a reprieve only to have my ribs, tummy or ass tickled instead.
I had no idea how long I'd been cuffed when I saw Antonia standing alongside me before she slowly and lovingly brushed my hair out of my face. She uncuffed my arms and supported my weight as she led me to a back room where I could get something to drink and recover.
When I'd began to compose myself she struck up a conversation.
“Enjoying yourself so far,” she asked me.
My mind wanted to scream hell no, but instead I whimpered yes.
“Great,” she said enthusiastically. “Because I have a surprise for you. Wait right here.”
With how tired I was even if I wanted to move I couldn't. Antonia returned, knocked on the door and told me to close my eyes and keep them closed until she said. I did as my mistress commanded, feeling something on my hand along with another set of footsteps.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Antonia standing next to a completely naked Kelly. I also noticed my blue stamp had been replaced by a red one. Putting two and two together I immediately got excited. My brain was swimming with questions and all I could blurt out to Antonia was a combination of nonsensical questions.
“I'm so happy you're this excited,” she said lovingly. “Long story short, Kelly made the mistake of tickling my ribs without permission when I was talking with Mae.”
“I thought you were my slave!” Kelly said with a terrified tone in her voice. Antonia continued on, not even acknowledging Kelly's existence at the moment.
“Her punishment, as ordered by Mae, was to allow me to assume tickle rights for Kelly and her slave the rest of the night. Not needing three slaves, I locked up Kelly's slave along the upperbody tickling wall until I see fit and decided to loan Kelly herself out to you for two hours.”
I quickly began to look over my new slave, which just that alone was enough to get me going. I was sent into overdrive when I examined Kelly's flawless figure. Her still perky C-cup breasts were draped by her shoulder length auburn hair and had a nice round ass.
“Don't get too excited though dear,” Antonia said. “Making you a mistress, even for two hours, came at a price.”
My mood definitely took a downturn upon that news as I wondered what could possibly be in store.
“There's a special competition at the end of the night Mae said and mistresses typically volunteer their slaves for it. Well, consider yourself volunteered.”
The knot in my stomach from hearing that was the size of a jumbo pretzel, especially when I saw a giant smirk go across Kelly's face. Thankfully, I had the next two hours to wipe that smirk off.
The three of us walked out of the room back into the main atrium which the second we entered the sounds of maniacal laughter could be heard once again. Upon our re-entry, Mae walked up to me and Kelly.
“I hope you enjoy your present,” Mae said smiling. “If you torture her anything like you did your mistress she's in for a world of trouble.”
It now was Kelly's turn to look despondent, which warmed my heart.
Mae mentioned there's a special room Kelly would be perfect for, so she led the way. We entered the room and there were four laughing women laying down on gurneys but their feet were sticking through the wall. In the corner, mounted, was a giant TV screen which showed why they were laughing so much. On the other side of the wall were lines of mistresses tickling these poor helpless slaves feet.
Knowing Kelly was a foot gal, per her own admission, I had little doubt her own feet were deathly ticklish. She pleaded with me for several seconds before Mae gave her a look to which she reluctantly climbed up on the gurney and stuck her feet through the wall.
Within a minute, Kelly's head burst out into gut-wrenching laughter as I saw 20 nails dancing along her soles on the monitor. With this room being designed for foot torture, none of the now five women were tied down in anyway along their upperbody so if I wanted to get some action there I'd have to work for it.
I climbed on top of Kelly's gurney, pinning her arms at her side with my thighs and began a full on tickle assault of her ribs. There was nothing she could do as she was already weakened from the foot tickling in addition to my prodding fingers. Each poke of her ribs made her ample bosom shake which only gave me more reason to attack.
“I'm going to torture you silly you tickle tickle slut,” I whispered in her ear before giving it a playful nibble as tears rolled down her cheek.
During all of this, I didn't notice Mae open a second set of holes for another set of feet to go through the wall. My feet. Just as quickly as they descended upon Kelly's tootsies, mine were now coming under constant fire from an assortment of fingers, nails and even tongues.
In between my laughter I asked Mae why she was doing this and the answer I got was so cold I thought I'd freeze.
“Because, you're a slave Julia and slaves get tickled. No red dot on our hand is going to change that.”
If Mae had been carrying a microphone she'd have dropped it after that last line as she walked out of the room as now six women were having their feet cruelly tortured.
The only saving grace I had in this situation was I was in position to dish out some serious payback to Kelly. Or so I thought.
During my conversation with Mae and subsequent foot torture, Kelly had freed her arms and was now skittering her nails along the undersides of my breasts. I had no choice but to shake my DD's to try and avoid her expert nails.
I wanted to fight back but there were now two tongues lapping my soles which was too much for my mind to process. All I could do was sit there and take the torture that awaited me.
Kelly's fingers began to dig into the ribs beneath my breasts causing me to cackle like I was some cheap witch at a haunted house during Halloween. My only solace was watching Kelly laugh from the treatment her feet were receiving as she was almost bucking me off from all the belly laughter.
Soon, I was once again caught unawares as there was a loud beeping noise as one after the other the stocks in the wall were lifting for the four women in the room with us. They must have been set on timers because there was no one else who could have done that.
This caused Kelly and I problems on two fronts. First, all the hungry foot ticklers out there were now left with just four options. Second, these women had just spent an unknown amount of time laughing their heads off and they wanted some revenge anyway they could get it.
The two of us must have looked like juicy Christmas hams to these four tickle-starved slaves. The good news was Kelly wasn't tickling my upperbody. The bad news, I had two strangers running their hands and nails all over my naked body sending me into ticklish convulsions.
My arms were lifted behind my head as a set of nails were running up and down my sides into my underarms and back. Through my tear-soaked eyes I could see Kelly suffering an identical fate as me.
We both almost passed out several times from the tickling and loss of oxygen from the non-stop laughter but these women were beyond cruel. Everytime either of us was about to black out they stopped and focused on other one.
This carried on for at least an hour and a half until they simply stopped. Not just these four women in the room with us, but the mistresses tickling our feet. Everyone stopped tickling entirely. After an entire evening with laughter being the only constant, there was an eerie silence that was almost deafening.
The same sound as earlier broke up the silence as our feet were freed and we slowly climbed down off the gurney. We stepped out of the room into the now pitch black. I couldn't see where I was going as I bumped into several upset mistresses and/or slaves.
Just as I was beginning to adjust to the darkness, the main stage in the center of the room lit up like a roman candle. There stood Mae in the center of the stage alongside three gigantic X-frames. The silence in the room was shattered when Mae spoke through a microphone and said.... “Will Julia, Tiffany and Maggie please report to the stage.”
I had no idea who Tiffany and Maggie were but I had a good idea none of us were going to like what comes next.
..................
Alright, you know the drill. If I didn't completely lose everyone with my latest installment I'll work on the conclusion to the series. As always, comments/thoughts are encouraged. Seeing as this will be the final, thought I'd be nice and see what the readers want to see before I bid adieu to Julia.
