BayernBeatdown
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Feb 27, 2014
- Messages
- 60
- Points
- 6
“I'll be right there,” Carly said when she heard the knock at the door. “I wonder who on earth it could be.”
When she opened the door it was her next door neighbor Jemma, a 40-something divorcee who had bought the old Johnson house a few months back. Carly didn't know much about her neighbor besides the fact she lived alone, like Carly, and this unmistakable sense something wasn't right about her.
Carly didn't think Jemma was a serial killer or anything, but rarely did anyone ever visit the woman next door and she hardly left the house. She didn't have a job as far as Carly knew, probably having to do with a massive alimony she suspected.
It was 10 p.m. on a weeknight so it was an odd time for a visitor but Carly, not wanting to be rude, welcomed Jemma into her home for maybe the second or third time ever.
“I'm sorry to bother you so late but my furnace just went out and the emergency repairman said he'd be at least two hours,” Jemma said. “Could I hang out here where it's warm, my house feels like an ice box.”
It was rather late, but Carly figured her neighbor would do the same so she reluctantly agreed. Besides, two hours isn't that terribly long of a wait. They could maybe watch a movie in the meantime.
“Were you heading off to bed soon,” Jemma asked, noticing Carly's oversized t-shirt, shorts and what was very likely a lack of any underwear to speak of.
“Y-y-yes I was actually,” Carly replied, somewhat embarrassed. She didn't think to throw on a robe or anything before answering the door.
“Don't mind me,” her neighbor replied. “I can just wait on the couch and shut the door behind me when the repairman arrives.”
Barely knowing this woman, Carly declined the invitation to go to sleep and leave Jemma alone in her house. The two instead moved into the living room and sat on the couch making small talk as Carly just wanted the repairman to come so she could get some sleep.
During the conversation, Jemma mentioned how she was a masseuse before marrying her husband and offered to give Carly a massage in repayment for her kindness. Carly declined the offer, again not knowing Jemma well, but finally relented with Jemma settling to give her a foot rub.
A little uneasy, Carly placed her size 7 feet on Jemma's lap. Within a few minutes though, the 25-year-old insurance adjuster felt her fears melt away with each movement of her impromptu masseuse's hands.
“I told you I was good,” Jemma said, kneading her knuckles on Carly's left foot causing a slight giggle to escape. “Ooo, are you ticklish love?”
Knowing she couldn't very well lie, Carly fessed up.
“Yeah, I am actually,” Carly said. “I rarely let anyone touch my feet for that very reason.”
Sensing a moment of opportunity, Jemma traced her pointer finger up Carly's left sole creating more of a prolonged light laugh this time.
“Stop it,” Carly said, waiting to put an end to Jemma's mischievousness before it went any further.
Unfortunately for Carly, the mischievousness was only just beginning and before the two hours were up would go much further. It didn't take long for Jemma to hold onto her victim's ankles, running the nails on her right up and down Carly's soles.
Despite her best efforts, Carly was unable to free her ankles from her attackers arms. With each scrap of the finger nail she was becoming weaker and weaker as her laughter was the thing to become stronger.
She felt her toes now becoming the center of attack, from her pinky to big toes being tickled nonstop. Carly couldn't believe her curvy frame was being overpowered by a woman in her 40's who she outweighed by at least 30 pounds.
“I'm so happy you're ticklish as you are,” Jemma said with an evil smirk. “Otherwise these two hours were going to be terribly boring.”
Carly wanted to yell at this woman, scream at her to leave her alone but all she could manage to escape her mouth was laughter. Growing bored of her feet after about 15 minutes, Jemma pinned Carly's arms above her head.
“Now, tell me where you're most ticklish on your upperbody and I promise to leave it alone,” Jemma said with the sincerity of a nun.
Sensing it was likely a trick, Carly told her attacker a fake spot – her ribs.
Wasting no time, Emma dug her fingers into Carly's ribcage confirming her doubts and the younger woman did her best to sell it.
“Please stop, I'm begging you,” Carly said as real tears filled her eyes from the gut wrenching laughter.
After a few more pokes and prods not generating the desired response, Jemma began to become agitated that she'd been lied to. Carly became increasingly worried when the woman she thought was so docile began eyeing up her Beatles t-shirt she was wearing which belonged to an old boyfriend.
“I've always loved the Beatles,” Jemma said. “But in hindsight it was great when they split.”
Without warning, Jemma grabbed hold of the old shirt and split it right in half exposing Carly's DDD breasts. Embarrassed to now be almost completely naked save for her shorts, Carly prayed her most ticklish spot wouldn't be found.
Jemma was on an exploratory mission, sneaking her fingers all over her helpless victim's upperbody. A goosing of a side leaked a squeal. A pinky in her belly button a solid laugh. Even stronger of a one with a raspberry on Carly's tummy.
Carly did her best to dodge the inevitable attacks, but all she managed to do was draw her captor closer and closer to her secret spot as her ample bosom jiggled away. She was starting to laugh silently from the assault on her sensitive skin.
Every raspberry sent Carly's cleavage into convulsions, which seemed to mesmerize Jemma and provide her a moments respite.
“I can't be in luck can I,” Jemma said. “These mammoth melons couldn't be your weakness could they?”
That was the last sound Carly heard before she felt all 10 of Jemma's fingers shake her breasts, almost like a cat plays with a ball of string. Carly didn't think she could laugh any harder until Jemma ran her nails in circles around the sides of her breasts, shockwaves of sensations flooding her body.
As Jemma kept up her attack with renewed vigor, nails skittering to and fro, Carly noticed the clock and saw the repairman should arrive in about 45 minutes. She also could have sworn she saw Jemma's eyes glow yellow. Normally she'd have thought she'd have gone insane, but maybe Carly already had.
She felt a few nails work their way onto the undersides of her breasts, flicking the sensitive skin which only one or two boyfriends had ever touched before. As bad as it was, there was one spot that if Jemma found would spell her doom.
Another 15 minutes had passed and Carly was beginning to think she was going to escape without being truly tortured. Her hopes were quickly dashed.
“As much as I love a pair of ticklish titties, there's one last spot I have to check,” Jemma said.
For once, it was Carly shaking her breasts, hoping beyond hope to distract her neighbor turned tormentor from tickling the spot which brought chills thinking about --- her pits.
By the time Jemma's sharp claws dug into her underarms, Carly was lost to hysterics. Her breasts shook like she was on a bumpy dirt road in a car without suspension but it did little to divert Jemma's attention from her real prize.
Jemma would run a single nail down each smooth underarm, forcing Carly into spastic ticklish episodes. There'd be alternating attacks, first slow and methodical followed by hurried and hectic. It didn't matter though, Carly was barely alert to her surroundings at this point.
Once she felt Jemma's almost cat-like tongue start to lick her pits, Carly was like a ticklish mental patient. Her cries for help fell on deaf ears. She didn't even notice a bright light outside her window.
Jemma noticed though, her eyes, once again seeming to glow yellow, lit up like the midday sun upon the arrival of the lights.
“Time to go dear,” Jemma said. “My help has arrived.”
Oh God, she wasn't going to be handed over to some hairy, filthy repairman as payment for services rendered was she.
Quicker than she could process that thought, the real truth was far, far worse.
Jemma picked up an almost lifeless Carly and carried her out the door. When she was outside, the winter breeze instantly turning her nipples to ice, she couldn't believe what she saw.
Instead of the lights of repair truck, it was the luminescent glow of what could only be described as a flying saucer.
Had she really gone insane and this was her mind's coping mechanism?
In an instant, Carly was taken aboard the craft where she spotted two of what had to be aliens with purple fur coming out from their suits. They were feline in appearance, yellow eyes and fluffy ears.
“It feels so good to be back sisters,” Jemma said to the two newcomers. “I've been on this miserable planet too long. I can finally let my fur out.”
The final shock to her system was when she noticed Jemma change before her very eyes, no longer looking like the 40-something divorcee but the same as the two aliens she'd just seen.
“I hope you don't mind but I brought us a toy to play with for the trip home,” Jemma said as she hauled Carly into a room before laying her down and locking the door on her way out.
Before finally leaving, Jemma did have one last thing to say.
“I know you have a lot of questions but don't worry. We've got a few million lightyears to talk...and play.”
When she opened the door it was her next door neighbor Jemma, a 40-something divorcee who had bought the old Johnson house a few months back. Carly didn't know much about her neighbor besides the fact she lived alone, like Carly, and this unmistakable sense something wasn't right about her.
Carly didn't think Jemma was a serial killer or anything, but rarely did anyone ever visit the woman next door and she hardly left the house. She didn't have a job as far as Carly knew, probably having to do with a massive alimony she suspected.
It was 10 p.m. on a weeknight so it was an odd time for a visitor but Carly, not wanting to be rude, welcomed Jemma into her home for maybe the second or third time ever.
“I'm sorry to bother you so late but my furnace just went out and the emergency repairman said he'd be at least two hours,” Jemma said. “Could I hang out here where it's warm, my house feels like an ice box.”
It was rather late, but Carly figured her neighbor would do the same so she reluctantly agreed. Besides, two hours isn't that terribly long of a wait. They could maybe watch a movie in the meantime.
“Were you heading off to bed soon,” Jemma asked, noticing Carly's oversized t-shirt, shorts and what was very likely a lack of any underwear to speak of.
“Y-y-yes I was actually,” Carly replied, somewhat embarrassed. She didn't think to throw on a robe or anything before answering the door.
“Don't mind me,” her neighbor replied. “I can just wait on the couch and shut the door behind me when the repairman arrives.”
Barely knowing this woman, Carly declined the invitation to go to sleep and leave Jemma alone in her house. The two instead moved into the living room and sat on the couch making small talk as Carly just wanted the repairman to come so she could get some sleep.
During the conversation, Jemma mentioned how she was a masseuse before marrying her husband and offered to give Carly a massage in repayment for her kindness. Carly declined the offer, again not knowing Jemma well, but finally relented with Jemma settling to give her a foot rub.
A little uneasy, Carly placed her size 7 feet on Jemma's lap. Within a few minutes though, the 25-year-old insurance adjuster felt her fears melt away with each movement of her impromptu masseuse's hands.
“I told you I was good,” Jemma said, kneading her knuckles on Carly's left foot causing a slight giggle to escape. “Ooo, are you ticklish love?”
Knowing she couldn't very well lie, Carly fessed up.
“Yeah, I am actually,” Carly said. “I rarely let anyone touch my feet for that very reason.”
Sensing a moment of opportunity, Jemma traced her pointer finger up Carly's left sole creating more of a prolonged light laugh this time.
“Stop it,” Carly said, waiting to put an end to Jemma's mischievousness before it went any further.
Unfortunately for Carly, the mischievousness was only just beginning and before the two hours were up would go much further. It didn't take long for Jemma to hold onto her victim's ankles, running the nails on her right up and down Carly's soles.
Despite her best efforts, Carly was unable to free her ankles from her attackers arms. With each scrap of the finger nail she was becoming weaker and weaker as her laughter was the thing to become stronger.
She felt her toes now becoming the center of attack, from her pinky to big toes being tickled nonstop. Carly couldn't believe her curvy frame was being overpowered by a woman in her 40's who she outweighed by at least 30 pounds.
“I'm so happy you're ticklish as you are,” Jemma said with an evil smirk. “Otherwise these two hours were going to be terribly boring.”
Carly wanted to yell at this woman, scream at her to leave her alone but all she could manage to escape her mouth was laughter. Growing bored of her feet after about 15 minutes, Jemma pinned Carly's arms above her head.
“Now, tell me where you're most ticklish on your upperbody and I promise to leave it alone,” Jemma said with the sincerity of a nun.
Sensing it was likely a trick, Carly told her attacker a fake spot – her ribs.
Wasting no time, Emma dug her fingers into Carly's ribcage confirming her doubts and the younger woman did her best to sell it.
“Please stop, I'm begging you,” Carly said as real tears filled her eyes from the gut wrenching laughter.
After a few more pokes and prods not generating the desired response, Jemma began to become agitated that she'd been lied to. Carly became increasingly worried when the woman she thought was so docile began eyeing up her Beatles t-shirt she was wearing which belonged to an old boyfriend.
“I've always loved the Beatles,” Jemma said. “But in hindsight it was great when they split.”
Without warning, Jemma grabbed hold of the old shirt and split it right in half exposing Carly's DDD breasts. Embarrassed to now be almost completely naked save for her shorts, Carly prayed her most ticklish spot wouldn't be found.
Jemma was on an exploratory mission, sneaking her fingers all over her helpless victim's upperbody. A goosing of a side leaked a squeal. A pinky in her belly button a solid laugh. Even stronger of a one with a raspberry on Carly's tummy.
Carly did her best to dodge the inevitable attacks, but all she managed to do was draw her captor closer and closer to her secret spot as her ample bosom jiggled away. She was starting to laugh silently from the assault on her sensitive skin.
Every raspberry sent Carly's cleavage into convulsions, which seemed to mesmerize Jemma and provide her a moments respite.
“I can't be in luck can I,” Jemma said. “These mammoth melons couldn't be your weakness could they?”
That was the last sound Carly heard before she felt all 10 of Jemma's fingers shake her breasts, almost like a cat plays with a ball of string. Carly didn't think she could laugh any harder until Jemma ran her nails in circles around the sides of her breasts, shockwaves of sensations flooding her body.
As Jemma kept up her attack with renewed vigor, nails skittering to and fro, Carly noticed the clock and saw the repairman should arrive in about 45 minutes. She also could have sworn she saw Jemma's eyes glow yellow. Normally she'd have thought she'd have gone insane, but maybe Carly already had.
She felt a few nails work their way onto the undersides of her breasts, flicking the sensitive skin which only one or two boyfriends had ever touched before. As bad as it was, there was one spot that if Jemma found would spell her doom.
Another 15 minutes had passed and Carly was beginning to think she was going to escape without being truly tortured. Her hopes were quickly dashed.
“As much as I love a pair of ticklish titties, there's one last spot I have to check,” Jemma said.
For once, it was Carly shaking her breasts, hoping beyond hope to distract her neighbor turned tormentor from tickling the spot which brought chills thinking about --- her pits.
By the time Jemma's sharp claws dug into her underarms, Carly was lost to hysterics. Her breasts shook like she was on a bumpy dirt road in a car without suspension but it did little to divert Jemma's attention from her real prize.
Jemma would run a single nail down each smooth underarm, forcing Carly into spastic ticklish episodes. There'd be alternating attacks, first slow and methodical followed by hurried and hectic. It didn't matter though, Carly was barely alert to her surroundings at this point.
Once she felt Jemma's almost cat-like tongue start to lick her pits, Carly was like a ticklish mental patient. Her cries for help fell on deaf ears. She didn't even notice a bright light outside her window.
Jemma noticed though, her eyes, once again seeming to glow yellow, lit up like the midday sun upon the arrival of the lights.
“Time to go dear,” Jemma said. “My help has arrived.”
Oh God, she wasn't going to be handed over to some hairy, filthy repairman as payment for services rendered was she.
Quicker than she could process that thought, the real truth was far, far worse.
Jemma picked up an almost lifeless Carly and carried her out the door. When she was outside, the winter breeze instantly turning her nipples to ice, she couldn't believe what she saw.
Instead of the lights of repair truck, it was the luminescent glow of what could only be described as a flying saucer.
Had she really gone insane and this was her mind's coping mechanism?
In an instant, Carly was taken aboard the craft where she spotted two of what had to be aliens with purple fur coming out from their suits. They were feline in appearance, yellow eyes and fluffy ears.
“It feels so good to be back sisters,” Jemma said to the two newcomers. “I've been on this miserable planet too long. I can finally let my fur out.”
The final shock to her system was when she noticed Jemma change before her very eyes, no longer looking like the 40-something divorcee but the same as the two aliens she'd just seen.
“I hope you don't mind but I brought us a toy to play with for the trip home,” Jemma said as she hauled Carly into a room before laying her down and locking the door on her way out.
Before finally leaving, Jemma did have one last thing to say.
“I know you have a lot of questions but don't worry. We've got a few million lightyears to talk...and play.”
