That’s right everyone, I was getting tired of the lack of a Morgan Webb story so I took it upon myself to write one. I’ve heard a lot of talk about one, but we still haven’t actually seen one. Well, that’s all about to change. We’ve all seen her, teasing us with those open-toe shoes all the time. Well, we won’t stand for it anymore! That video game-playing hottie has had this coming for a long time, and now she finally gets hers! So everyone grab a beer okay? No wait, this is a special occasion…coke and rum. I’m thinking coke and rum. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think of it!
THE STORY:
Morgan Webb opened the studio doors and stepped out into the cool night air. She was exhausted: three straight shoots with only one break. She had thought about hitting the bar with Adam and some other co-workers before heading home, but all she felt like doing right now was soaking in a hot bubble bath and crashing. She bade Adam good bye and walked out to her car. It was dark and looked like it might rain. The wind was blowing fiercely, making an eerie whistling sound. She could hear the faint rumbling of thunder in the distance, and saw far-off flashes of lightning that looked as if they were coming closer with each strike. The whole scene was decidedly creepy. It reminded her of a stupid little rhyme her brother used to recite to scare her:
“He comes with the wind and the rain at night,
He comes for you in your bed,
And if you don’t pray and do what is right
He’ll tickle you ‘till you’re dead!”
Then, of course, he would usually tickle her until she screamed for her mother. The Tickle Monster, she thought, kids will believe anything. Morgan shivered and got in her car. The rhyme kept repeating itself in her mind the whole ride home, and over the howling of the wind she could have sworn she heard what sounded like faint breathing…
Morgan stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel. The water dripped from her slender, curvy body in small drops, causing it to shine in the dim light. As she toweled herself, she faintly heard a floorboard creak. She stopped and raised her head, listening. That’s weird…she thought. She listened intently for a few more seconds, but heard nothing else. Must be my imagination, she thought. After drying herself, she brushed her teeth and walked to her room, still naked. She dressed in her pajamas: a short pair of sleeping shorts and a low cut pink tank top. She lowered herself into the bed and lay there uncovered, letting the cool night air blow over her. The wind was picking up, blowing eerily through the trees, and the thunder grew louder. Rain began to fall, drumming rhythmically on the windows. Morgan was on the verge of falling asleep, when she heard her door slowly creak open. She opened her eyes. What the…
The door was open slightly, but she saw nothing. This was rather disconcerting as she had shut her door tightly. She stared at it for a while, and then lay back down again. It was probably the wind, she thought, its blowing pretty strong. She heard a faint shuffling noise near her bed. She sat up abruptly, a knot forming in her stomach. Something wasn’t right, she felt like someone was in the room with her. She sat there, listening…
“Hello Morgan,” a voice came.
She screamed and jumped out of her bed, but she was struck by a strange gas. Her vision faded into blackness, but not before she glimpsed a shadowy figure standing over her bed…
That’s right Morgan, Adam was saying, we give you a ONE out of FIVE for being so ticklish. Sorry, but we’re going to have to let you go…
“No,” Morgan groaned sleepily.
“He comes with the wind and the rain at night,
He comes for you in your bed,
And if you don’t pray and do what is right
He’ll tickle you ‘till you’re dead!”
“Nooo.”
“He comes with the wind and the rain at night,
He comes for you in your bed,
And if you don’t pray and do what is right
He’ll tickle you ‘till you’re DEAD!”
“EEEEEAAAAAAH!”
Morgan screamed and tried to bold up, but she couldn’t. Something was holding her down.
She looked around frantically, breathing rapidly. She was back at the X-Play studio. How had she gotten here? She was sitting upright in a chair, her arms tied behind her back. Her feet were locked in a pair of old fashioned stocks. Morgan thought about saying something, but she was totally at a loss for words. She had just woken up in the place she had just left and was tied up in a pair of stocks. You’d probably have a hard time forming words too.
The studio was only dimly lit, and the rain was pouring down harder than ever.
“Morgan Webb,” a voice came, “We meet at last.” It was a strange voice; it sounded warm and friendly but it curdled Morgan’s blood. It sounded…evil, despite itself. Whoever the voice belonged to, Morgan decided she definitely did not want to meet him.
A brief flash of lightning illuminated the studio, and for a moment Morgan saw a man standing a short distance away, his face obscured in the shadows.
“Who…who are you?” she called fearfully. The man stepped forward, into the light. Morgan wasn’t sure whether she ought to scream or laugh. His appearance was at the same time comical and terrifying. In addition to a black leather jacket, he was wearing a pillowcase with a single eyehole over his head. This is a joke, Morgan thought to herself, that’s probably Adam in the pillowcase. Just a big joke…
“Think of me as nothing more than a figment of your imagination, Morgan. But you may call me Pillowface if you wish.”
Perfect, Morgan thought, I’ve been kidnapped by a guy who calls himself Pillowface. And he doesn’t even think he exists…
“Never heard of you,” Morgan said bravely (though she was hardly feeling brave. She felt more like throwing up).
Pillowface cocked his head inquiringly, like a dog. “Are you certain? I think that you have.”
He held his hands behind his back and began reciting:
“He comes with the wind and the rain at night,
He comes for you in your bed,
And if you don’t pray and do what is right
He’ll tickle you ‘till you’re dead!”
“A bit exaggerated, perhaps, but fairly accurate nonetheless.”
Morgan stared at him, incredulous. “Are you SERIOUS? That stupid kid’s song? You’re insane!” Incredibly clear images of her brother tickling her suddenly surfaced in her mind.
Pillowface nodded his head knowingly. “Well, I didn’t write it. However, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I’m going to tickle you.”
“WHAT!” Morgan shouted hysterically. “Why?”
Pillowface laughed grimly. “Everyday I see you on your television show, and everyday you tease me with those open-toe shoes of yours. My dear, you are simply asking to be tickled.” He cocked his head again. “Plus you gave Jedi Outcast a two out of five, and that makes me very angry. I think you need to be punished.”
Oh my God, Morgan thought, I’ve been kidnapped by a deranged fanboy with a tickle fetish. Why do these things always happen to me?
Pillowface laughed again. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this.”
Using his fingers, he stroked her beautiful soles up and down. As Morgan had just bathed, her feet were soft and smelled faintly of sweet perfume.
“EAAH!” Morgan screamed. “DON’T DO THAT!”
Pillowface stopped. “Oh, so you are ticklish. Well, that answers that question everyone.”
He held her toes back and started tickling the area directly underneath them. He struck gold.
“EAAAHAHAHAHAHA! NO, STOP IT! AHAHAHAHAHA, DON’T TICKLE MEEHEHEHEHE!”
“Why do they always beg?” Pillowface said, apparently to himself. “Do you honestly think I’ll stop?”
Morgan didn’t (and couldn’t) answer. She was too busy laughing hysterically.
“NOHOHOHO, AHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAAAHAHAHAHAHA! DON’T TOUCH MEHEHE YOU BASTAHAHARD!”
He tickled her high arches with short strokes of his fingers, which doubled her laughing. He hadn’t tickled any other part of her body yet, but he was fairly sure that her feet were the most ticklish part of her body (naturally, as anyone who as ever read tickling fiction knows).
“Yes, laugh darling, its good release. They say laughing is good for your health.”
“AHAHAHA FUHUHUCK YOU! AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”
She thrashed around wildly (as much as she could, being restrained), her raven hair flying in her face. She was excruciatingly ticklish, and it was one of her most heavily guarded secrets. She absolutely HATED being so ticklish. Normally she had a very high tolerance for pain, but for some reason even the slightest touch on her soft, sensitive soles made her crazy. It was so embarrassing…
“EEEEAAAH, EHEHEHEHEH, OH, OHOHO STAHAHAHP MOTHER FUCKER! AHAHAHA!”
“Ah, but you’re a feisty one aren’t you? Well, we’ll soon remedy that.”
Pillowface intensified his attack, raking his fingers across her feet in short, quick motions.
“WAAAAAAA! OHOH GAHAHAD, AHAHAHAHA SON OFA BIHIHITCH! AHAHAHA I’M GONNA KIHICK YOUR ASS, AHAHAHAHAHA!”
He ignored her and began tickling along the sides of her feet. He started by scratching them up and down, but found that simple taps with the tips of his fingers were more effective. What methods are effective depend greatly on the person being tickled, and few knew that as well as Pillowface.
“OHOHO, AHAHAHA, THAT TICKLES SOHOHO MUCH! AHAHAHAHA!”
"My dear, you really have no idea."
The pillowcase-wearing tickler tied Morgan's big toes together so that she couldn't wiggle them around as much. He grabbed a couple of feathers and applied them to her supple, tender feet. They didn't produce the heavy, hysterical laughter that the fingers did, but that didn't mean they made her suffer any less. Pillowface gently caressed her feet with the soft feathers, and the maddening strokes on her nearly immobile feet were almost unbearable.
"EHEHEHEHE, AHA, EEEHEHEHEHE EEEEK! AHAHAHA!"
Pillowface didn't let up. He snatched up a couple more feathers and held two in each hand, increasing Morgan's laughter more than she thought possible. She had never before experienced such torture! And yet, at the same time there was something very arousing about it. It was almost like foreplay except that she was suffering at the same time. She couldn't tell if it was more pleasurable or painful, but either way she couldn't stop laughing.
"AAAHAHAHAHA! NO MORE PLEHEHEHEHESE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
Pillowface grabbed the cord of a video game controller that he had cut. "This is what I call "ironic tickling" darling," he said.
Using the cord, he sawed between her toes. The smooth cord, snaking its way through her toes, made her hysterical! She laughed like she had never laughed before, writhing and thrashing about in ticklish agony. She didn't know how much more of this she could take!
"YEEEE! EAHAHAHAHAH! NOHOHO PLEASE STAHAHAHP! AHAHAH THAT TICKLES! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
The tickle torture continued for what seemed like an eternity, and just when Morgan thought she might pass out it stopped. She threw her head back, gasping for breath.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she moaned, breathing heavily.
Pillowface stared at her, his expression unreadable behind his mask.
“Because so many people want me to,” he said, as if they were having a casual conversation over lunch on the veranda.
He grinned behind the pillowcase. “Would you like to see what my face looks like?”
Morgan glared at him. She hated him with a passion that exceeded all other hatreds she felt, yet at the same time she was curious to see the true face of her torturer.
Pillowface slowly raised his hand to his mask. He was just about to remove it when he stopped.
“Are you ticklish on your toes?” he asked in a rather offhand manner.
Morgan shook her head. She was tired of this.
“Get fucked you son of a bitch.”
She was getting very angry at this “Pillowface”. Who did he think he was, kidnapping her and tickling her to the verge of tears? She was a very popular TV star! She could sue this guy; make him wish he’d never been born! And yet, she knew it was just wishful thinking. She had no idea who he was, and she was currently at his mercy. There was nothing she could do to get away.
She saw Pillowface’s single visible eye narrow. “Oh, now you’re just making me angry.”
His fingers dug into her feet with renewed vigor, tickling them all over. She burst into laughter more intense then before.
“WAHAHAHAHA! OHO GAHAHAD! NOHOHOH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Pillowface was relentless in his attack. His fingers crawled all along her soles; tracing along the lines in her feet, tickling up and down the sides, poking into the arches. He made sure that Morgan wouldn’t soon forget this night.
“NOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHAHAH! PLEEHEHEHEHESE NO MOHOHORE! AHAHAHAHAHA!”
But Pillowface just kept tickling, his fingers wriggling all over her soft bare feet. She didn’t know how much longer she could take this torture…
But the maniacal tickler had only just begun. Morgan was laughing so hard, she barely heard the electric toothbrushes as they hummed to life. And when they touched her feet, her laughing intensified beyond what Morgan had though possible. She was being tickled out of her mind!
“AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH...MY...GAHAHAHAD! THAT TICKLES SOHOHO MUCH! AHAHAHAHAH!”
The tickling went on and on until Morgan finally couldn’t take even a second longer…
“FREEZE, POLICE!”
Pillowface whirled around; a female cop was standing in the studio’s entrance, a gun pointed at his head.
“HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!”
Pillowface slowly removed his hands from Morgan’s feet. He looked the cop up and down.
“Hm, perhaps you would care to join us my dear?”
“HANDS ON YOUR HEAD! GET ON THE GROUND!”
Pillowface advanced, his hand moving ominously towards the inside of his jacket.
“I SAID GET ON THE GROUND!” The cop watched him nervously. She would shoot him if she had to…
She fired a warning shot over his shoulder. Pillowface jumped back into the shadows and vanished…
The cop rushed up to Morgan and quickly untied her. She looked around warily and called for backup.
“All right ma’am,” she said to Morgan, “We’re going to move slowly to the door. Stay close to me.”
Morgan nodded. She was too out of breath to speak.
They reached the door. The cop turned the knob and the door opened…
Pillowface lunged from the shadows. He knocked the cop out cold. Morgan tried to run but he pushed her to the ground. She was lying near the cop now. She reached out and grabbed her gun. She pointed it at Pillowface’s head.
He stopped abruptly, breathing heavily.
“Are you going to shoot me?” he asked, as casually as though he were asking what the weather was like.
Morgan didn’t answer. She hesitated, only for a moment, and then pulled the trigger. Pillowface stumbled back, blood streaming from his head, and finally slumped to the floor…
Morgan shut her apartment door behind her and locked it. She let out a deep sigh of relief. The police had finally arrived and rescued her from that horrible nightmare. Pillowface was dead, and the female police officer was recovering. Morgan was just glad it was all over. She walked up to her bedroom; she was exhausted. She only wished she had been able to unmask Pillowface. She wanted to see just who was behind that pillowcase, to see the true face of the person who had made her laugh more than anyone else. But the police had carted his body off before she had the chance. It didn’t matter though: the important thing was that the nightmare was finally over. And yet, the more she thought about it, the more she actually didn’t mind it so much. It had been unbearable torture, true, but at the same time she had almost…enjoyed it. Almost. Morgan smiled. She would remember it the next time her boyfriend wanted to get frisky.
Yawning, she lay down on her bed. She immediately sat up again. The pillow was wet! She looked down at it. The pillowcase was soaked in blood. And behind her, almost inaudible, she heard the sound of breathing…
Please comment…or Pillowface will get YOU!
THE STORY:
Morgan Webb opened the studio doors and stepped out into the cool night air. She was exhausted: three straight shoots with only one break. She had thought about hitting the bar with Adam and some other co-workers before heading home, but all she felt like doing right now was soaking in a hot bubble bath and crashing. She bade Adam good bye and walked out to her car. It was dark and looked like it might rain. The wind was blowing fiercely, making an eerie whistling sound. She could hear the faint rumbling of thunder in the distance, and saw far-off flashes of lightning that looked as if they were coming closer with each strike. The whole scene was decidedly creepy. It reminded her of a stupid little rhyme her brother used to recite to scare her:
“He comes with the wind and the rain at night,
He comes for you in your bed,
And if you don’t pray and do what is right
He’ll tickle you ‘till you’re dead!”
Then, of course, he would usually tickle her until she screamed for her mother. The Tickle Monster, she thought, kids will believe anything. Morgan shivered and got in her car. The rhyme kept repeating itself in her mind the whole ride home, and over the howling of the wind she could have sworn she heard what sounded like faint breathing…
Morgan stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel. The water dripped from her slender, curvy body in small drops, causing it to shine in the dim light. As she toweled herself, she faintly heard a floorboard creak. She stopped and raised her head, listening. That’s weird…she thought. She listened intently for a few more seconds, but heard nothing else. Must be my imagination, she thought. After drying herself, she brushed her teeth and walked to her room, still naked. She dressed in her pajamas: a short pair of sleeping shorts and a low cut pink tank top. She lowered herself into the bed and lay there uncovered, letting the cool night air blow over her. The wind was picking up, blowing eerily through the trees, and the thunder grew louder. Rain began to fall, drumming rhythmically on the windows. Morgan was on the verge of falling asleep, when she heard her door slowly creak open. She opened her eyes. What the…
The door was open slightly, but she saw nothing. This was rather disconcerting as she had shut her door tightly. She stared at it for a while, and then lay back down again. It was probably the wind, she thought, its blowing pretty strong. She heard a faint shuffling noise near her bed. She sat up abruptly, a knot forming in her stomach. Something wasn’t right, she felt like someone was in the room with her. She sat there, listening…
“Hello Morgan,” a voice came.
She screamed and jumped out of her bed, but she was struck by a strange gas. Her vision faded into blackness, but not before she glimpsed a shadowy figure standing over her bed…
That’s right Morgan, Adam was saying, we give you a ONE out of FIVE for being so ticklish. Sorry, but we’re going to have to let you go…
“No,” Morgan groaned sleepily.
“He comes with the wind and the rain at night,
He comes for you in your bed,
And if you don’t pray and do what is right
He’ll tickle you ‘till you’re dead!”
“Nooo.”
“He comes with the wind and the rain at night,
He comes for you in your bed,
And if you don’t pray and do what is right
He’ll tickle you ‘till you’re DEAD!”
“EEEEEAAAAAAH!”
Morgan screamed and tried to bold up, but she couldn’t. Something was holding her down.
She looked around frantically, breathing rapidly. She was back at the X-Play studio. How had she gotten here? She was sitting upright in a chair, her arms tied behind her back. Her feet were locked in a pair of old fashioned stocks. Morgan thought about saying something, but she was totally at a loss for words. She had just woken up in the place she had just left and was tied up in a pair of stocks. You’d probably have a hard time forming words too.
The studio was only dimly lit, and the rain was pouring down harder than ever.
“Morgan Webb,” a voice came, “We meet at last.” It was a strange voice; it sounded warm and friendly but it curdled Morgan’s blood. It sounded…evil, despite itself. Whoever the voice belonged to, Morgan decided she definitely did not want to meet him.
A brief flash of lightning illuminated the studio, and for a moment Morgan saw a man standing a short distance away, his face obscured in the shadows.
“Who…who are you?” she called fearfully. The man stepped forward, into the light. Morgan wasn’t sure whether she ought to scream or laugh. His appearance was at the same time comical and terrifying. In addition to a black leather jacket, he was wearing a pillowcase with a single eyehole over his head. This is a joke, Morgan thought to herself, that’s probably Adam in the pillowcase. Just a big joke…
“Think of me as nothing more than a figment of your imagination, Morgan. But you may call me Pillowface if you wish.”
Perfect, Morgan thought, I’ve been kidnapped by a guy who calls himself Pillowface. And he doesn’t even think he exists…
“Never heard of you,” Morgan said bravely (though she was hardly feeling brave. She felt more like throwing up).
Pillowface cocked his head inquiringly, like a dog. “Are you certain? I think that you have.”
He held his hands behind his back and began reciting:
“He comes with the wind and the rain at night,
He comes for you in your bed,
And if you don’t pray and do what is right
He’ll tickle you ‘till you’re dead!”
“A bit exaggerated, perhaps, but fairly accurate nonetheless.”
Morgan stared at him, incredulous. “Are you SERIOUS? That stupid kid’s song? You’re insane!” Incredibly clear images of her brother tickling her suddenly surfaced in her mind.
Pillowface nodded his head knowingly. “Well, I didn’t write it. However, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I’m going to tickle you.”
“WHAT!” Morgan shouted hysterically. “Why?”
Pillowface laughed grimly. “Everyday I see you on your television show, and everyday you tease me with those open-toe shoes of yours. My dear, you are simply asking to be tickled.” He cocked his head again. “Plus you gave Jedi Outcast a two out of five, and that makes me very angry. I think you need to be punished.”
Oh my God, Morgan thought, I’ve been kidnapped by a deranged fanboy with a tickle fetish. Why do these things always happen to me?
Pillowface laughed again. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this.”
Using his fingers, he stroked her beautiful soles up and down. As Morgan had just bathed, her feet were soft and smelled faintly of sweet perfume.
“EAAH!” Morgan screamed. “DON’T DO THAT!”
Pillowface stopped. “Oh, so you are ticklish. Well, that answers that question everyone.”
He held her toes back and started tickling the area directly underneath them. He struck gold.
“EAAAHAHAHAHAHA! NO, STOP IT! AHAHAHAHAHA, DON’T TICKLE MEEHEHEHEHE!”
“Why do they always beg?” Pillowface said, apparently to himself. “Do you honestly think I’ll stop?”
Morgan didn’t (and couldn’t) answer. She was too busy laughing hysterically.
“NOHOHOHO, AHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAAAHAHAHAHAHA! DON’T TOUCH MEHEHE YOU BASTAHAHARD!”
He tickled her high arches with short strokes of his fingers, which doubled her laughing. He hadn’t tickled any other part of her body yet, but he was fairly sure that her feet were the most ticklish part of her body (naturally, as anyone who as ever read tickling fiction knows).
“Yes, laugh darling, its good release. They say laughing is good for your health.”
“AHAHAHA FUHUHUCK YOU! AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”
She thrashed around wildly (as much as she could, being restrained), her raven hair flying in her face. She was excruciatingly ticklish, and it was one of her most heavily guarded secrets. She absolutely HATED being so ticklish. Normally she had a very high tolerance for pain, but for some reason even the slightest touch on her soft, sensitive soles made her crazy. It was so embarrassing…
“EEEEAAAH, EHEHEHEHEH, OH, OHOHO STAHAHAHP MOTHER FUCKER! AHAHAHA!”
“Ah, but you’re a feisty one aren’t you? Well, we’ll soon remedy that.”
Pillowface intensified his attack, raking his fingers across her feet in short, quick motions.
“WAAAAAAA! OHOH GAHAHAD, AHAHAHAHA SON OFA BIHIHITCH! AHAHAHA I’M GONNA KIHICK YOUR ASS, AHAHAHAHAHA!”
He ignored her and began tickling along the sides of her feet. He started by scratching them up and down, but found that simple taps with the tips of his fingers were more effective. What methods are effective depend greatly on the person being tickled, and few knew that as well as Pillowface.
“OHOHO, AHAHAHA, THAT TICKLES SOHOHO MUCH! AHAHAHAHA!”
"My dear, you really have no idea."
The pillowcase-wearing tickler tied Morgan's big toes together so that she couldn't wiggle them around as much. He grabbed a couple of feathers and applied them to her supple, tender feet. They didn't produce the heavy, hysterical laughter that the fingers did, but that didn't mean they made her suffer any less. Pillowface gently caressed her feet with the soft feathers, and the maddening strokes on her nearly immobile feet were almost unbearable.
"EHEHEHEHE, AHA, EEEHEHEHEHE EEEEK! AHAHAHA!"
Pillowface didn't let up. He snatched up a couple more feathers and held two in each hand, increasing Morgan's laughter more than she thought possible. She had never before experienced such torture! And yet, at the same time there was something very arousing about it. It was almost like foreplay except that she was suffering at the same time. She couldn't tell if it was more pleasurable or painful, but either way she couldn't stop laughing.
"AAAHAHAHAHA! NO MORE PLEHEHEHEHESE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
Pillowface grabbed the cord of a video game controller that he had cut. "This is what I call "ironic tickling" darling," he said.
Using the cord, he sawed between her toes. The smooth cord, snaking its way through her toes, made her hysterical! She laughed like she had never laughed before, writhing and thrashing about in ticklish agony. She didn't know how much more of this she could take!
"YEEEE! EAHAHAHAHAH! NOHOHO PLEASE STAHAHAHP! AHAHAH THAT TICKLES! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
The tickle torture continued for what seemed like an eternity, and just when Morgan thought she might pass out it stopped. She threw her head back, gasping for breath.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she moaned, breathing heavily.
Pillowface stared at her, his expression unreadable behind his mask.
“Because so many people want me to,” he said, as if they were having a casual conversation over lunch on the veranda.
He grinned behind the pillowcase. “Would you like to see what my face looks like?”
Morgan glared at him. She hated him with a passion that exceeded all other hatreds she felt, yet at the same time she was curious to see the true face of her torturer.
Pillowface slowly raised his hand to his mask. He was just about to remove it when he stopped.
“Are you ticklish on your toes?” he asked in a rather offhand manner.
Morgan shook her head. She was tired of this.
“Get fucked you son of a bitch.”
She was getting very angry at this “Pillowface”. Who did he think he was, kidnapping her and tickling her to the verge of tears? She was a very popular TV star! She could sue this guy; make him wish he’d never been born! And yet, she knew it was just wishful thinking. She had no idea who he was, and she was currently at his mercy. There was nothing she could do to get away.
She saw Pillowface’s single visible eye narrow. “Oh, now you’re just making me angry.”
His fingers dug into her feet with renewed vigor, tickling them all over. She burst into laughter more intense then before.
“WAHAHAHAHA! OHO GAHAHAD! NOHOHOH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Pillowface was relentless in his attack. His fingers crawled all along her soles; tracing along the lines in her feet, tickling up and down the sides, poking into the arches. He made sure that Morgan wouldn’t soon forget this night.
“NOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHAHAH! PLEEHEHEHEHESE NO MOHOHORE! AHAHAHAHAHA!”
But Pillowface just kept tickling, his fingers wriggling all over her soft bare feet. She didn’t know how much longer she could take this torture…
But the maniacal tickler had only just begun. Morgan was laughing so hard, she barely heard the electric toothbrushes as they hummed to life. And when they touched her feet, her laughing intensified beyond what Morgan had though possible. She was being tickled out of her mind!
“AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH...MY...GAHAHAHAD! THAT TICKLES SOHOHO MUCH! AHAHAHAHAH!”
The tickling went on and on until Morgan finally couldn’t take even a second longer…
“FREEZE, POLICE!”
Pillowface whirled around; a female cop was standing in the studio’s entrance, a gun pointed at his head.
“HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!”
Pillowface slowly removed his hands from Morgan’s feet. He looked the cop up and down.
“Hm, perhaps you would care to join us my dear?”
“HANDS ON YOUR HEAD! GET ON THE GROUND!”
Pillowface advanced, his hand moving ominously towards the inside of his jacket.
“I SAID GET ON THE GROUND!” The cop watched him nervously. She would shoot him if she had to…
She fired a warning shot over his shoulder. Pillowface jumped back into the shadows and vanished…
The cop rushed up to Morgan and quickly untied her. She looked around warily and called for backup.
“All right ma’am,” she said to Morgan, “We’re going to move slowly to the door. Stay close to me.”
Morgan nodded. She was too out of breath to speak.
They reached the door. The cop turned the knob and the door opened…
Pillowface lunged from the shadows. He knocked the cop out cold. Morgan tried to run but he pushed her to the ground. She was lying near the cop now. She reached out and grabbed her gun. She pointed it at Pillowface’s head.
He stopped abruptly, breathing heavily.
“Are you going to shoot me?” he asked, as casually as though he were asking what the weather was like.
Morgan didn’t answer. She hesitated, only for a moment, and then pulled the trigger. Pillowface stumbled back, blood streaming from his head, and finally slumped to the floor…
Morgan shut her apartment door behind her and locked it. She let out a deep sigh of relief. The police had finally arrived and rescued her from that horrible nightmare. Pillowface was dead, and the female police officer was recovering. Morgan was just glad it was all over. She walked up to her bedroom; she was exhausted. She only wished she had been able to unmask Pillowface. She wanted to see just who was behind that pillowcase, to see the true face of the person who had made her laugh more than anyone else. But the police had carted his body off before she had the chance. It didn’t matter though: the important thing was that the nightmare was finally over. And yet, the more she thought about it, the more she actually didn’t mind it so much. It had been unbearable torture, true, but at the same time she had almost…enjoyed it. Almost. Morgan smiled. She would remember it the next time her boyfriend wanted to get frisky.
Yawning, she lay down on her bed. She immediately sat up again. The pillow was wet! She looked down at it. The pillowcase was soaked in blood. And behind her, almost inaudible, she heard the sound of breathing…
Please comment…or Pillowface will get YOU!
