wrestlingclown
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2012
- Messages
- 198
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My career as a professional skeptic took an unexpected turn when I was called to investigate a dominatrix known as Madame Marvel. It was certainly different from most of the cases I debunk--Bigfoot and UFO sightings, images of Jesus in a slice of pizza, individuals claiming they have ESP, that sort of thing. This dominatrix--her real name is Carol Lefleur--claims to be able to tickle men into submission while she, herself, is tied down to a bondage table. She claimed to be able to do this with her powers of psychokinesis. There are many testimonials on her webpage from satisfied customers who supporte her claim. I contacted Madame Marvel and introduced myself, honestly telling her of my plans to expose her as a fraud.
"Oh no my powers are real. For $200 an hour you can see so for yourself."
I didn't believe she was going to let me tie her up. These phony psychic types infuriate me. I planned to show her no mercy, if indeed she submitted to bonds.
The following day I arrived at her dungeon, actually a room in a seaside condo with mock brick on the walls and over the windows. The room smelled of cinnamon incense. Madame Marvel has a terrific figure. She's long and lean with moderate-sized cleavage and a tight jiggly rear-end. Her black hair reaches her shoulder blades. She wore pink bikini underwear and sharp red lipstick.
"What is your safeword?" she asked.
"Shouldn't I ask you that?" I responded.
"I see. You still don't believe me. I'll give you the word then. Say hopscotch when you want the tickling to stop."
She laid down on the bondage table and let me lock her wrists and ankles in padded stocks. I was really going to give it to her. I remained fully dressed.
"You may begin." she said.
I tickled both her feet with my fingers and it suddenly felt as if 50 fingers were tickling my belly and armpits. I laughed out loud in surprise. The tickling feeling stopped when I ceased tickling her foot soles. She merely smiled.
"Do you believe me now?' she asked.
I looked all around me, unable to figure out how she had done that trick. It was impossible. Psychokinesis couldn't be real.
"I dare you to try tickling me again," she said.
I walked over to her sides and started poking them and it felt as if someone was brushing my foot soles with a stiff wire hair brush.
"Stop that," I said between gritted teeth, not realizing my admission that her powers of psychokinesis must be real.
"Now do you agree that I have powers."
"I just haven't figured out how you do that."
"With my mind."
I squatted down and felt the ground to see if there was something, a vibrating machine or device of some kind that had been tickling me. But it was a bare varnished wood floor.
In frustration I stood, stuck my hands under her tight panties, and tickled her gluteus maximus. I ended up rolling on the floor. It seemed like 8 people were tickling me, even though there was no one else in the room besides Madame Marvel who was physically restrained. Normally, I'm not very ticklish but this feeling was overwhelming, and I was laughing hysterically.
The tickling ceased. My face was red and now I had an erection.
"Do you have a tickle word?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Everybody has a word they find funny and it makes them laugh whenever it was spoken. It tickles their funny bone...their tickle spot. I know what it is. I pulled it from your mind. The word is dooper.
"That's not a word. That's nonsensical."
But the word did sound funny and I felt laughter building inside.
"I can make you laugh simply by saying it. Dooper, dooper, dooper."
I did start laughing and couldn't stop.
"Dooper, dooper, dooper."
I put my hands over my ears but it was no use.
"Ok, I want you inside me. Take your pants and underwear off."
I obeyed her, revealing my big hard erection.
"Get on top of me and pull my panties down."
I did.
"Put it in."
I fiddled until my dick slid in the warm slippery crevice.
"Try to take it out."
I tried pulling but my penis was stuck inside her as if a vacuum pump was pulling it. I was trapped in union with her.
"Kitchie, kitchie, koo," she said and it felt like a feather was tickling my hard-on while 50 fingers were tickling my body. I laughed so hard tears streamed from my eyes. This was real, impossible to debunk. I came, and my penis felt even more ticklish, unable to escaped the vacuum sucking it into her. I giggled, screamed, and giggled.
"Let me go you witch...Please...Ahahaha...let me go...Please...stop...oh hopscotch."
My career as a professional skeptic was ruined. No one will ever believe Madame Marvel is real.
"Oh no my powers are real. For $200 an hour you can see so for yourself."
I didn't believe she was going to let me tie her up. These phony psychic types infuriate me. I planned to show her no mercy, if indeed she submitted to bonds.
The following day I arrived at her dungeon, actually a room in a seaside condo with mock brick on the walls and over the windows. The room smelled of cinnamon incense. Madame Marvel has a terrific figure. She's long and lean with moderate-sized cleavage and a tight jiggly rear-end. Her black hair reaches her shoulder blades. She wore pink bikini underwear and sharp red lipstick.
"What is your safeword?" she asked.
"Shouldn't I ask you that?" I responded.
"I see. You still don't believe me. I'll give you the word then. Say hopscotch when you want the tickling to stop."
She laid down on the bondage table and let me lock her wrists and ankles in padded stocks. I was really going to give it to her. I remained fully dressed.
"You may begin." she said.
I tickled both her feet with my fingers and it suddenly felt as if 50 fingers were tickling my belly and armpits. I laughed out loud in surprise. The tickling feeling stopped when I ceased tickling her foot soles. She merely smiled.
"Do you believe me now?' she asked.
I looked all around me, unable to figure out how she had done that trick. It was impossible. Psychokinesis couldn't be real.
"I dare you to try tickling me again," she said.
I walked over to her sides and started poking them and it felt as if someone was brushing my foot soles with a stiff wire hair brush.
"Stop that," I said between gritted teeth, not realizing my admission that her powers of psychokinesis must be real.
"Now do you agree that I have powers."
"I just haven't figured out how you do that."
"With my mind."
I squatted down and felt the ground to see if there was something, a vibrating machine or device of some kind that had been tickling me. But it was a bare varnished wood floor.
In frustration I stood, stuck my hands under her tight panties, and tickled her gluteus maximus. I ended up rolling on the floor. It seemed like 8 people were tickling me, even though there was no one else in the room besides Madame Marvel who was physically restrained. Normally, I'm not very ticklish but this feeling was overwhelming, and I was laughing hysterically.
The tickling ceased. My face was red and now I had an erection.
"Do you have a tickle word?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Everybody has a word they find funny and it makes them laugh whenever it was spoken. It tickles their funny bone...their tickle spot. I know what it is. I pulled it from your mind. The word is dooper.
"That's not a word. That's nonsensical."
But the word did sound funny and I felt laughter building inside.
"I can make you laugh simply by saying it. Dooper, dooper, dooper."
I did start laughing and couldn't stop.
"Dooper, dooper, dooper."
I put my hands over my ears but it was no use.
"Ok, I want you inside me. Take your pants and underwear off."
I obeyed her, revealing my big hard erection.
"Get on top of me and pull my panties down."
I did.
"Put it in."
I fiddled until my dick slid in the warm slippery crevice.
"Try to take it out."
I tried pulling but my penis was stuck inside her as if a vacuum pump was pulling it. I was trapped in union with her.
"Kitchie, kitchie, koo," she said and it felt like a feather was tickling my hard-on while 50 fingers were tickling my body. I laughed so hard tears streamed from my eyes. This was real, impossible to debunk. I came, and my penis felt even more ticklish, unable to escaped the vacuum sucking it into her. I giggled, screamed, and giggled.
"Let me go you witch...Please...Ahahaha...let me go...Please...stop...oh hopscotch."
My career as a professional skeptic was ruined. No one will ever believe Madame Marvel is real.
