Rockauthor
TMF Master
- Joined
- Apr 21, 2001
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WINONA RYDER
Starring in
Girl, Tickled
(A ticklish celebrity fiction request)
Winona Ryder struggled in her straightjacket like a housefly caught in a spider’s web. She was strapped down to a stretcher and she was being wheeled down a long hallway inside a mental institution. Everything had happened all of a sudden. One moment Winona was jogging in Central Park, minding her own business, the next moment she was confronted by at least seven men wearing surgical masks and white lab coats.
Now the two-time Academy AwardÔ nominee was in this insane asylum held captive in a most disturbing environment. There were faint, beleaguered cries of women behind the closed doors, screaming and cursing and trying to escape, but to no avail. Nurses were barging into rooms with loaded syringes in hand, and there were the creepiest assortment of filthy-faced, drooling, and just plain tired-looking women she had ever seen, as she proceeded down the corridor.
There were three orderlies who were wheeling the bound Winona Ryder on the stretcher; they ended up sticking the raven-haired hottie in a room at the end of the hallway. The room was painted a light blue and had one hospital bed in the center. At the foot of the bed was a set of wooden stocks that had ten eyelets just above each opening.
“LET GO OF ME, DAMMIT! WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Winona Ryder demanded, as she continued to fight when the three orderlies unbuckled her from the stretcher, and put her in the bed.
The men progressed to place her feet within the confines of the stocks. Then, one of the orderlies grabbed several pieces of string and sewed them through the eyelets, around each of Winona’s pretty pedicured toes, and tied the strings to the stocks. This left Winona Ryder’s soft, beautiful soles taut and completely vulnerable.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE? OUCH! WHAT’S GOING ON HERE? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?” Winona probed, but her pleas for an answer fell on deaf ears. She realized that trying to get out of that straightjacket let alone those stocks was all a useless effort. Winona Ryder just fell back onto the bed, sighing in frustration, and trying to hold back tears.
The three orderlies then exited the room and slammed the door behind them. Shortly after, the door reopened and in walked two women. One was a nurse and the other was an MD. The doctor looked to be about fifty-years-old, with reddish-brown hair and green eyes. She had a stethoscope around her neck and a clipboard in hand.
“Good morning. How are we feeling today, Miss Kayson?” The doctor asked.
Winona donned a confused frown on her face. “WHO?” She asked.
“We thought you were making good progress here, but then you decided to escape. Now Susanna, we don’t want to have to resort to drastic measures, but you leave us no choice. We must begin extensive therapy on you immediately to help you in your rehabilitation.”
Kayson? Susanna? Winona thought. Is this woman mad? But then it suddenly came to her. Wait a minute. Susanna Kayson. Wasn’t that the character I played in “Girl, Interrupted”?
“Listen, I don’t know WHO you are or WHY you guys just kidnapped me off the street and brought me to this godforsaken place, but my name is Winona Ryder. I am an actress. You have me confused with the character I played in a movie called Girl, Interrupted.. HER name was Susanna Kayson.”
“Tsk tsk tsk. So sad how such a pretty face belongs to such a troubled schizophrenic.” The disappointed doctor replied.
“SCHIZOPHRENIC? I’M NOT SUSANNA KAYSON! I’M WINONA RYDER! YOU MUST BELIEVE ME!”
“Okay, Winona Ryder, “ the doctor mocked, “I think you’ll feel a lot better after you’ve had your therapy.”
“I DON’T NEED THERAPY! I NEED YOU TO FUCKING LET ME GO!”
Then the doctor signaled to the young African-American nurse, who accompanied her, that she was ready to begin Winona’s therapy. The two women approached the helplessly trapped feet of Winona Ryder that stuck through the set of stocks. Winona began to get a little nervous, wondering what was about to happen.
With the doctor standing in front of Winona Ryder’s left foot, and the nurse in front of her right foot, The two women began to very slowly drag their fingernails up the imprisoned soles of the sexy actress. Immediately, Winona Ryder’s big, beautiful brown eyes were wide with shock. The tickling sensations shot through her body like electricity. She tried to curl her toes but the fact that they were tied back to the stocks prevented her from doing so. Winona bucked the free part of her body up and down on the hospital bed, looking like a ribbon attached to the vent of a blowing air-conditioner. She screamed like a banshee and giggled like a deranged person.
Winona Ryder was EXTREMELY TICKLISH!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP! THAT TICKLES! AAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
The doctor and the nurse were dragging their fingernails along Winona’s horribly ticklish bare soles so gently and skillfully, they looked like musicians gracefully strumming the strings of a harp. And after about 30 minutes of this solid stroking and tickling of Winona Ryder’s feet, the two women let the exhausted actress have a moment of rest.
When the Heathers star finally caught her breath, she opened her eyes wide and looked at the doctor and the nurse with pleading eyes and shouted, “OHMIGAWD! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE! I CAN’T STAND THAT! YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW TICKLISH MY FEET ARE! I SWEAR I’M NOT SUSANNA KAYSON! I AM WINONA RYDER! HONEST! PLEASE DON’T TICKLE MY FEET ANYMORE! IT’S TORTURE!”
Again, the raven-haired sweetheart’s objection went ignored. Next, the persistent doctor and her obedient nurse both used their two forefingers to sporadically scratch all over Winona Ryder’s poor soles. And every so once in a while, the two institution workers crept their digits up into the extraordinarily ticklish dimensions of Winona Ryder’s baby-soft toes.
Winona went berserk!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! P-P-P-PLEEEEEEEEASE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEEEE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! I’M GONNA DIE!”
Winona stretched her head back in silent laughter, she pounded her fists on the bed, she lost control of her bodily functions, and she wet herself. And after another half-hour, the insistent MD and her dutiful assistant allowed Winona Ryder another brief break.
“(gasp) N-N-NO MORE! (cough)! NO! (gasp) PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! NO MORE! I’M SOOOOOOOO TICKLISH! (gasp)! S-S-S-TOP TICKLING MY FEET! (gasp)” The actress sputtered.
At this point the MD reached into her doctor’s bag and pulled out a backscratcher and a long, stiff turkey feather. She handed the feather to the nurse and kept the backscratcher for herself. When Winona Ryder saw the two tickling instruments, she panicked again.
“N-N-NO MORE! NO MORE TICKLING, PLEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHASE! I TOLD YOU I’M NOT SUSANNA KAYSON! I’M WINONA RYDER! D-D-DON’T TICKLE MY FEET! I CAN’T TAKE THAT! I’M REALLY, REALLY TICKLISH!”
“This is for your own good, Susanna,” the doctor warned as she and the nurse approached the lovely actress’ bare, gorgeous, and helplessly displayed soles.
Then Winona Ryder returned to her world of ticklish hysteria just as quickly as she had left it; the doctor methodically caressed the arches, balls, and heels of Winona’s right foot with her backscratcher. The loyal nurse began rapidly swiping her feather up and down the bottom of the ticklish girl’s left foot. Again, Winona Ryder collapsed into silent laughter, she twisted her body, trying in vain to escape the incessant tickling, and her face had contorted with intense ticklish laughter.
After about another 45 minutes of tickle-torture, Winona Ryder mercifully passed out.
When The Age of Innocence star awoke, she noticed that her captivity had changed. Winona was now in a standing position, topless, with her hands tied high above her head. Her hands were tied to a rope that hung from a hook that was nailed to the ceiling. Winona’s feet were planted on the ground, but her ankles were tied to a rope, which was tied to the bed.
She also noticed that the doctor and the nurse were still standing in front of her, rubbing lotion on their hands.
“PLEASE! DON’T TICKLE ME ANYMORE! I’M JUST NOT WHO YOU THINK I AM! I’M JUST AN ACTRESS WHO PLAYED SUSANNA KAYSON IN A MOVIE, THAT’S ALL!” Winona Ryder pleaded, almost on the brink of sobbing.
The two women behaved as if they didn’t even hear the poor girl; they then approached Winona Ryder again and began tickling her all over her exposed torso. They poked and prodded her ribs and sides, they investigated the ticklish depths of her belly button, and they even crawled their fingers up Winona’s back.
“OOH! OOH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! NOT MY RIBS! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! NOT MY SIDES! AAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! NOT MY BELLYBUTTON!
Winona jerked about like a madwoman and tried to yank herself out of her bondage, but to no avail. And what happened next terrified Winona Ryder like nothing before. She gulped hard and wet herself again as the two women approched Winona Ryder’s disturbingly accessible underarms.
Winona Ryder’s armpits were by far HER MOST TICKLISH SPOT! The poor, defenseless beauty stretched her head back, rolled her eyes, and groaned in frustration. She thought to herself, God, if I ever get out of this alive, I’m definitely gonna fire my agent.
THE END
Starring in
Girl, Tickled
(A ticklish celebrity fiction request)
Winona Ryder struggled in her straightjacket like a housefly caught in a spider’s web. She was strapped down to a stretcher and she was being wheeled down a long hallway inside a mental institution. Everything had happened all of a sudden. One moment Winona was jogging in Central Park, minding her own business, the next moment she was confronted by at least seven men wearing surgical masks and white lab coats.
Now the two-time Academy AwardÔ nominee was in this insane asylum held captive in a most disturbing environment. There were faint, beleaguered cries of women behind the closed doors, screaming and cursing and trying to escape, but to no avail. Nurses were barging into rooms with loaded syringes in hand, and there were the creepiest assortment of filthy-faced, drooling, and just plain tired-looking women she had ever seen, as she proceeded down the corridor.
There were three orderlies who were wheeling the bound Winona Ryder on the stretcher; they ended up sticking the raven-haired hottie in a room at the end of the hallway. The room was painted a light blue and had one hospital bed in the center. At the foot of the bed was a set of wooden stocks that had ten eyelets just above each opening.
“LET GO OF ME, DAMMIT! WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Winona Ryder demanded, as she continued to fight when the three orderlies unbuckled her from the stretcher, and put her in the bed.
The men progressed to place her feet within the confines of the stocks. Then, one of the orderlies grabbed several pieces of string and sewed them through the eyelets, around each of Winona’s pretty pedicured toes, and tied the strings to the stocks. This left Winona Ryder’s soft, beautiful soles taut and completely vulnerable.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE? OUCH! WHAT’S GOING ON HERE? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?” Winona probed, but her pleas for an answer fell on deaf ears. She realized that trying to get out of that straightjacket let alone those stocks was all a useless effort. Winona Ryder just fell back onto the bed, sighing in frustration, and trying to hold back tears.
The three orderlies then exited the room and slammed the door behind them. Shortly after, the door reopened and in walked two women. One was a nurse and the other was an MD. The doctor looked to be about fifty-years-old, with reddish-brown hair and green eyes. She had a stethoscope around her neck and a clipboard in hand.
“Good morning. How are we feeling today, Miss Kayson?” The doctor asked.
Winona donned a confused frown on her face. “WHO?” She asked.
“We thought you were making good progress here, but then you decided to escape. Now Susanna, we don’t want to have to resort to drastic measures, but you leave us no choice. We must begin extensive therapy on you immediately to help you in your rehabilitation.”
Kayson? Susanna? Winona thought. Is this woman mad? But then it suddenly came to her. Wait a minute. Susanna Kayson. Wasn’t that the character I played in “Girl, Interrupted”?
“Listen, I don’t know WHO you are or WHY you guys just kidnapped me off the street and brought me to this godforsaken place, but my name is Winona Ryder. I am an actress. You have me confused with the character I played in a movie called Girl, Interrupted.. HER name was Susanna Kayson.”
“Tsk tsk tsk. So sad how such a pretty face belongs to such a troubled schizophrenic.” The disappointed doctor replied.
“SCHIZOPHRENIC? I’M NOT SUSANNA KAYSON! I’M WINONA RYDER! YOU MUST BELIEVE ME!”
“Okay, Winona Ryder, “ the doctor mocked, “I think you’ll feel a lot better after you’ve had your therapy.”
“I DON’T NEED THERAPY! I NEED YOU TO FUCKING LET ME GO!”
Then the doctor signaled to the young African-American nurse, who accompanied her, that she was ready to begin Winona’s therapy. The two women approached the helplessly trapped feet of Winona Ryder that stuck through the set of stocks. Winona began to get a little nervous, wondering what was about to happen.
With the doctor standing in front of Winona Ryder’s left foot, and the nurse in front of her right foot, The two women began to very slowly drag their fingernails up the imprisoned soles of the sexy actress. Immediately, Winona Ryder’s big, beautiful brown eyes were wide with shock. The tickling sensations shot through her body like electricity. She tried to curl her toes but the fact that they were tied back to the stocks prevented her from doing so. Winona bucked the free part of her body up and down on the hospital bed, looking like a ribbon attached to the vent of a blowing air-conditioner. She screamed like a banshee and giggled like a deranged person.
Winona Ryder was EXTREMELY TICKLISH!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP! THAT TICKLES! AAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
The doctor and the nurse were dragging their fingernails along Winona’s horribly ticklish bare soles so gently and skillfully, they looked like musicians gracefully strumming the strings of a harp. And after about 30 minutes of this solid stroking and tickling of Winona Ryder’s feet, the two women let the exhausted actress have a moment of rest.
When the Heathers star finally caught her breath, she opened her eyes wide and looked at the doctor and the nurse with pleading eyes and shouted, “OHMIGAWD! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE! I CAN’T STAND THAT! YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW TICKLISH MY FEET ARE! I SWEAR I’M NOT SUSANNA KAYSON! I AM WINONA RYDER! HONEST! PLEASE DON’T TICKLE MY FEET ANYMORE! IT’S TORTURE!”
Again, the raven-haired sweetheart’s objection went ignored. Next, the persistent doctor and her obedient nurse both used their two forefingers to sporadically scratch all over Winona Ryder’s poor soles. And every so once in a while, the two institution workers crept their digits up into the extraordinarily ticklish dimensions of Winona Ryder’s baby-soft toes.
Winona went berserk!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! P-P-P-PLEEEEEEEEASE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEEEE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! I’M GONNA DIE!”
Winona stretched her head back in silent laughter, she pounded her fists on the bed, she lost control of her bodily functions, and she wet herself. And after another half-hour, the insistent MD and her dutiful assistant allowed Winona Ryder another brief break.
“(gasp) N-N-NO MORE! (cough)! NO! (gasp) PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! NO MORE! I’M SOOOOOOOO TICKLISH! (gasp)! S-S-S-TOP TICKLING MY FEET! (gasp)” The actress sputtered.
At this point the MD reached into her doctor’s bag and pulled out a backscratcher and a long, stiff turkey feather. She handed the feather to the nurse and kept the backscratcher for herself. When Winona Ryder saw the two tickling instruments, she panicked again.
“N-N-NO MORE! NO MORE TICKLING, PLEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHASE! I TOLD YOU I’M NOT SUSANNA KAYSON! I’M WINONA RYDER! D-D-DON’T TICKLE MY FEET! I CAN’T TAKE THAT! I’M REALLY, REALLY TICKLISH!”
“This is for your own good, Susanna,” the doctor warned as she and the nurse approached the lovely actress’ bare, gorgeous, and helplessly displayed soles.
Then Winona Ryder returned to her world of ticklish hysteria just as quickly as she had left it; the doctor methodically caressed the arches, balls, and heels of Winona’s right foot with her backscratcher. The loyal nurse began rapidly swiping her feather up and down the bottom of the ticklish girl’s left foot. Again, Winona Ryder collapsed into silent laughter, she twisted her body, trying in vain to escape the incessant tickling, and her face had contorted with intense ticklish laughter.
After about another 45 minutes of tickle-torture, Winona Ryder mercifully passed out.
When The Age of Innocence star awoke, she noticed that her captivity had changed. Winona was now in a standing position, topless, with her hands tied high above her head. Her hands were tied to a rope that hung from a hook that was nailed to the ceiling. Winona’s feet were planted on the ground, but her ankles were tied to a rope, which was tied to the bed.
She also noticed that the doctor and the nurse were still standing in front of her, rubbing lotion on their hands.
“PLEASE! DON’T TICKLE ME ANYMORE! I’M JUST NOT WHO YOU THINK I AM! I’M JUST AN ACTRESS WHO PLAYED SUSANNA KAYSON IN A MOVIE, THAT’S ALL!” Winona Ryder pleaded, almost on the brink of sobbing.
The two women behaved as if they didn’t even hear the poor girl; they then approached Winona Ryder again and began tickling her all over her exposed torso. They poked and prodded her ribs and sides, they investigated the ticklish depths of her belly button, and they even crawled their fingers up Winona’s back.
“OOH! OOH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! NOT MY RIBS! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! NOT MY SIDES! AAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! NOT MY BELLYBUTTON!
Winona jerked about like a madwoman and tried to yank herself out of her bondage, but to no avail. And what happened next terrified Winona Ryder like nothing before. She gulped hard and wet herself again as the two women approched Winona Ryder’s disturbingly accessible underarms.
Winona Ryder’s armpits were by far HER MOST TICKLISH SPOT! The poor, defenseless beauty stretched her head back, rolled her eyes, and groaned in frustration. She thought to herself, God, if I ever get out of this alive, I’m definitely gonna fire my agent.
THE END
