Recent content by NightFeather

This is a strange one. It may not be everyone's cup of tea. Enjoy or don't, just remember that as stated in the story, all participants are adults. One very much so. THE GHOST AND MR. MUIR Greg sat at the dinner table eating the meal his mother had prepared while listening to his father...

If anything, this final, final part is even more wicked than the last part, Tim's Fate. It is a direct continuation from Tim's Fate and, honest and truly, the very end of this story. When the tickling finally stopped and Alyssa was aware of the outside world, all she could was was watch Mindy...

Wicked Ending (Illegal, Indecent and Immoral. You have been warned). This is a direct continuation from Part 3 (Penultimate). It represents an alternative conclusion than that presented in the Goodish Ending. You may consider whichever one you wish to be cannon. Ignore the other as a...

The Good Ending (As good as Alyssa and Tim are going to get anyway) “This is what you want, is it?” Mindy said, sitting on the bed near Tim’s waist. She had taken off both her socks and placed both her feet inches from Tim’s face. “Don’t you want to give my soles a good lick?” Alyssa could...

Alyssa was finally out of the carpet, but if anything her situation had gotten worse. She now stood in the middle of the room stripped of her clothes with her hands cuffed behind her back. Beth was staring at her with naked lust plastered across her face causing Alyssa to blush a deep crimson as...

Using the same hair pin that had freed her from the handcuffs, Alyssa was crept into her sister’s house. She could hear her husband Tim’s hysterical laughter as soon as she entered. Clearly her sister Mindy and her friend Beth were still torturing him. And it was all her fault that he was at...

“I can’t believe it,” Alyssa yelled as the large breasted woman gave the red feather to the shorter man instead of the more athletic one, “He’s not even that ticklish!” “Of course he is,,” her sister Mindy gloated, “He just knew how to hide it better. But a professional dominatrix would see...

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” Jacob stammered, struggling to get free. “Don’t lie. I can feel the fetish when I touch you just as I can feel your heartbeat. A rich boy like you surely has purchased some nice toys to feed that little desire of yours. Tell me.” He refused, of course...

“Hello, Jacob. I’m here to make you my bitch.” Jacob could only gawk as the strange woman pushed past him and into his house. There was…something about her. She was, well, plain. Dressed only in an old band t-shirt and jeans with more than a few holes in them, there was nothing glamorous...