Arpit Chopra
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2021
- Messages
- 90
- Points
- 8
Dear Diary,
Its been a long time since I confided in you. After my mom died, I had only Rachel left in my life, my best friend whom I could share anything with. You know about her don't you? Remember I told you about her, the one girl in my class who could make me laugh and cry at the same time, who was so close to my heart that anytime she talked to another boy or girl, it used to make my blood boil. The only girl in my life who was everything to me !!
Guess what? She's gone now. It's been months since I last saw her. Because I'm stuck in this shitty prison called boarding school. Where I was dumped into by my Dad and his bitch girlfriend, Sheila, soon to be my step mom. Yuck !! I hate her so much, whenever I see her, I wanna smash her head in the wall. She's using my dad for his money, and I am amazed how my own Dad could be so blind !!
But that's not even the worst part. After she became a part of our family, my life has become a living hell. Whenever my Dad wouldn't be around, she would tickle me constantly. My feet, my thighs, and especially my waist, would be her constant targets. She didn't even care that I was crying for help, while my face was full of laughter. Her tickle torture was prolonged and relentless, and no matter how much I begged, she wouldn't stop. THE SLUT JUST WOULDN'T FUCKING STOP !!!!
I think Sheila is the most sadistic and narcissistic woman I have ever seen in my life. And unfortunately, stronger than me too !! She would pin down both of my hands using her knees, so I couldn't move. Then she would start wiggling her long nails in the air, which I promise you, are literally built like talons. Then she would raise my t shirt up, revealing my smooth white tummy, quivering with fear. I would beg for her to stop, cry out for someone to come and help me, but even the servants wouldn't hear my voice. Maybe she had instructed them not to interfere, I don't know. Then she would bring her wiggling fingers slowly down so that her fingernails were in contact with my tummy, and then start playing with it.
I know, I know dear diary , there is nothing playful or funny about what she did. But I don't know what else to call it. She would play with my tummy and my ribs like a grand master playing a sonata. I would start shaking my head, and start giggling. Begging playfully (god I hate that word) for her to stop. To give me a moment's peace, give me some chance to catch my breath. She would go slowly and calmly, all the while humming a song (don't even know what it was) and telling me playfully that she might let me go only if i ask her to "tickle me harder".
TICKLE ME HARDER?? WAS THAT BITCH FUCKING RETARDED? COULDN'T SHE SEE THAT I HATED IT? THAT THE ONLY REASON I LAUGHED WAS THAT IT WAS MY BODY'S INVOLUNTARY RESPONSE ?
Anyways, I would soon be overcome by the sensation to pee, and between preciously caught breaths, I would beg her to let me go the bathroom. But it was like talking to a fucking wall !! She would just repeat the same, that she might let me go if i ask her to "tickle me harder".
How could I not dear diary? How could I not tell her everything she wanted to hear? I had to literally shout "TICKLE ME HARDER".
And that's exactly what she was waiting for. She would just smile back at me, that creepy smile that still gives me nightmares, and say "As you wish."
Dear Diary, if you think what was happening to me was torture before, wait till you hear what happened next !!
She would start tickling me viciously, harder than I have ever been tickled before. Have you ever heard about the phrase "the pain of tickling?" That's exactly how I would feel. My whole body would be struggling, crying for her to cease her attack. At that very moment, I could do anything, literally anything she wanted to stop her tickle torture. But she wouldn't fucking stop.
Trust me dear diary, at that moment I hated my body. Hated that I was so ticklish, that I couldn't even show her how much I was suffering, because my face was filled with forced mirth. Remember I had to pee? Well I didn't anymore, because I had already pissed my pants. It was so fucking embarrassing dear diary, that I had to pee all over my shorts and on my bedroom carpet like a baby.
And you would think at least that would motivate her to stop tickling me. Oh no !! That disgusting bitch would continue tickling me, even taunting me in a mocking voice about how much of a baby I was and how much I needed to be taught a lesson.
Eventually she would let me go, while I would lay there, sweaty and dehydrated, taking huge gulps of breath.
She hates me dear diary, she fucking hates me. And I don't even know what I did to deserve her hatred. And the bitch is manipulative too. She has turned everyone against me, even my own dad.
I still remember the day my dad poked my tummy in the mall, and I had jumped and then scolded him for tickling me. I thought he would stop, as he was my Dad and he loved me as much as I loved him. But I couldn't even imagine what he did to me on my birthday.
It was around 10'o clock in the morning. I was chatting with Rachel, thanking her for being the first person to wish me Happy Birthday. Next thing I know, My Dad and that bitch enter my bedroom. Both of them shouted "Happy birthday" and jumped on me. They picked me up and threw me on my bed. Sheila went to the other side of the bed and held both of my hands tightly above my head. I tried hard to get myself free, but my struggle was futile.
Then my Dad did what he had never done before. He raised my favorite pink minny mouse t shirt, covering my face with it and effectively blinding me. Then he started rubbing his beard stubble all over my tummy.
Oh my God Dear Diary. It was like small prickly ants were crawling all over my tummy, and I couldn't even do anything about it. And it was a sensation I had never experienced before in my life. I started giggling heavily, trying with all my might to escape this mixture of tickling and embarrassment. But he kept doing it. Over and over again !!!
Why Dad? Why???
I think my Dad is mind controlled by that bitch, hanging onto her every command. I know my Dad, dear diary. There is no way he would ever send me to boarding school. That bitch is manipulating him. And he has become blind, blinded by his love for her.
But even here in the boarding school, that devil's presence is there. Last week she and my Dad came to visit. I remember she was talking to my roommate alone. I couldn't overhear what she said, but my roommate's behavior has changed since then. She constantly pokes me in the stomach, making me jump whenever I'm not looking. I have told her that I dislike tickling, but she doesn't seem to care.
Did that bitch hypnotize my roommate too? Is she even human, or an actual devil?
I don't know dear diary, I don't know what to do.
PLEASE HELP ME !!!
(To be continued....)
Its been a long time since I confided in you. After my mom died, I had only Rachel left in my life, my best friend whom I could share anything with. You know about her don't you? Remember I told you about her, the one girl in my class who could make me laugh and cry at the same time, who was so close to my heart that anytime she talked to another boy or girl, it used to make my blood boil. The only girl in my life who was everything to me !!
Guess what? She's gone now. It's been months since I last saw her. Because I'm stuck in this shitty prison called boarding school. Where I was dumped into by my Dad and his bitch girlfriend, Sheila, soon to be my step mom. Yuck !! I hate her so much, whenever I see her, I wanna smash her head in the wall. She's using my dad for his money, and I am amazed how my own Dad could be so blind !!
But that's not even the worst part. After she became a part of our family, my life has become a living hell. Whenever my Dad wouldn't be around, she would tickle me constantly. My feet, my thighs, and especially my waist, would be her constant targets. She didn't even care that I was crying for help, while my face was full of laughter. Her tickle torture was prolonged and relentless, and no matter how much I begged, she wouldn't stop. THE SLUT JUST WOULDN'T FUCKING STOP !!!!
I think Sheila is the most sadistic and narcissistic woman I have ever seen in my life. And unfortunately, stronger than me too !! She would pin down both of my hands using her knees, so I couldn't move. Then she would start wiggling her long nails in the air, which I promise you, are literally built like talons. Then she would raise my t shirt up, revealing my smooth white tummy, quivering with fear. I would beg for her to stop, cry out for someone to come and help me, but even the servants wouldn't hear my voice. Maybe she had instructed them not to interfere, I don't know. Then she would bring her wiggling fingers slowly down so that her fingernails were in contact with my tummy, and then start playing with it.
I know, I know dear diary , there is nothing playful or funny about what she did. But I don't know what else to call it. She would play with my tummy and my ribs like a grand master playing a sonata. I would start shaking my head, and start giggling. Begging playfully (god I hate that word) for her to stop. To give me a moment's peace, give me some chance to catch my breath. She would go slowly and calmly, all the while humming a song (don't even know what it was) and telling me playfully that she might let me go only if i ask her to "tickle me harder".
TICKLE ME HARDER?? WAS THAT BITCH FUCKING RETARDED? COULDN'T SHE SEE THAT I HATED IT? THAT THE ONLY REASON I LAUGHED WAS THAT IT WAS MY BODY'S INVOLUNTARY RESPONSE ?
Anyways, I would soon be overcome by the sensation to pee, and between preciously caught breaths, I would beg her to let me go the bathroom. But it was like talking to a fucking wall !! She would just repeat the same, that she might let me go if i ask her to "tickle me harder".
How could I not dear diary? How could I not tell her everything she wanted to hear? I had to literally shout "TICKLE ME HARDER".
And that's exactly what she was waiting for. She would just smile back at me, that creepy smile that still gives me nightmares, and say "As you wish."
Dear Diary, if you think what was happening to me was torture before, wait till you hear what happened next !!
She would start tickling me viciously, harder than I have ever been tickled before. Have you ever heard about the phrase "the pain of tickling?" That's exactly how I would feel. My whole body would be struggling, crying for her to cease her attack. At that very moment, I could do anything, literally anything she wanted to stop her tickle torture. But she wouldn't fucking stop.
Trust me dear diary, at that moment I hated my body. Hated that I was so ticklish, that I couldn't even show her how much I was suffering, because my face was filled with forced mirth. Remember I had to pee? Well I didn't anymore, because I had already pissed my pants. It was so fucking embarrassing dear diary, that I had to pee all over my shorts and on my bedroom carpet like a baby.
And you would think at least that would motivate her to stop tickling me. Oh no !! That disgusting bitch would continue tickling me, even taunting me in a mocking voice about how much of a baby I was and how much I needed to be taught a lesson.
Eventually she would let me go, while I would lay there, sweaty and dehydrated, taking huge gulps of breath.
She hates me dear diary, she fucking hates me. And I don't even know what I did to deserve her hatred. And the bitch is manipulative too. She has turned everyone against me, even my own dad.
I still remember the day my dad poked my tummy in the mall, and I had jumped and then scolded him for tickling me. I thought he would stop, as he was my Dad and he loved me as much as I loved him. But I couldn't even imagine what he did to me on my birthday.
It was around 10'o clock in the morning. I was chatting with Rachel, thanking her for being the first person to wish me Happy Birthday. Next thing I know, My Dad and that bitch enter my bedroom. Both of them shouted "Happy birthday" and jumped on me. They picked me up and threw me on my bed. Sheila went to the other side of the bed and held both of my hands tightly above my head. I tried hard to get myself free, but my struggle was futile.
Then my Dad did what he had never done before. He raised my favorite pink minny mouse t shirt, covering my face with it and effectively blinding me. Then he started rubbing his beard stubble all over my tummy.
Oh my God Dear Diary. It was like small prickly ants were crawling all over my tummy, and I couldn't even do anything about it. And it was a sensation I had never experienced before in my life. I started giggling heavily, trying with all my might to escape this mixture of tickling and embarrassment. But he kept doing it. Over and over again !!!
Why Dad? Why???
I think my Dad is mind controlled by that bitch, hanging onto her every command. I know my Dad, dear diary. There is no way he would ever send me to boarding school. That bitch is manipulating him. And he has become blind, blinded by his love for her.
But even here in the boarding school, that devil's presence is there. Last week she and my Dad came to visit. I remember she was talking to my roommate alone. I couldn't overhear what she said, but my roommate's behavior has changed since then. She constantly pokes me in the stomach, making me jump whenever I'm not looking. I have told her that I dislike tickling, but she doesn't seem to care.
Did that bitch hypnotize my roommate too? Is she even human, or an actual devil?
I don't know dear diary, I don't know what to do.
PLEASE HELP ME !!!
(To be continued....)
This is a fine series. 
