PeterVincentTGVK
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2007
- Messages
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- 38
So I actually wrote this around Halloween last year when I had just finished the Theena book and had intended the concept for a Jenni book. I was very much still playing with the idea of going in and out of third person and first person storytelling. To be honest, this is one of the shortest tales I have written. But I still am proud of it and even though Halloween is long over, I wanted to post something a little spooky. I hope that you all enjoy.
“This is really risky.” Lily voiced her disapproval over her glass of gin. It was never above Jenni for her to try and give Lily a buzz when she wanted a favor from her. Lily was lounging on Jenni’s couch while Jenni sat in her recliner with a glass of her merlot.
“Lily, the guy needs help.”
“And you really think this will help? Or do you think it might scar him for life?”
“Just look at this, okay?” Jenni got up and joined her bewitching friend on the couch, showing her a print out that she picked up off of the coffee table. “There is no known cure or even treatment for this.”
“Jen… and I really shouldn’t be telling you this…” Jenni had never seen Lily act so warily. “Sleep Paralysis is not something that you want to mess with. He could be just having issues with his sleeping patterns… or there could actually be some demonic force behind it. I am just telling you as someone who knows a thing or two about demons and the supernatural. You can’t know this kind of thing for sure. And the last thing that you or anybody else wants is to have some dark entity attach itself to you because you are interfering with one of it’s practices. It’s too risky. I won’t do it.”
Jenni sighed and put the print out back on the table, sipping her wine. It was no secret to her friends and family that Jenni had a PHD and practiced psychology when she wasn’t working her clown gigs. Her newest patient was suffering from sleep paralysis. Jenni had assumed that it was related to night terrors that he had endured as a child but the lack of research on sleep paralysis made it nearly impossible to make any sure connection.
It was also no secret that Jenni loved to try experimental forms of therapy and treatments… or that she loved to tickle the living daylights out of her patients as part of the therapy.
It was something of a secret though, that on occasion Jenni would enlist Lily to use her powers of witchcraft to allow her to enter the dreams of her patients as part of their treatments. Jenni had only done this a few times but now she was asking Lily to allow her entry into a possible sleep paralysis episode. Jenni couldn’t really argue with Lily’s apprehension. All of the witch’s points were quite valid. And Jenni didn’t want to put herself in danger anymore than Lily did.
“Wait a moment.” Jenni felt a light bulb go off. “What if he only thinks that it’s sleep paralysis?”
“What do you mean?”
“He thinks it’s real but it’s just a dream. We don’t tap into it. We just simulate it.”
“Because there is a big difference between a nightmare and a sleep paralysis episode.” Lily pointed out.
“Well yeah, but he’s not going to know the difference when it is actually happening. He has told me himself that he is incapable of lucid dreaming. He won’t be able to tell. If we do it right, even after he wakes up, he will think it was real.”
“Now… that might actually work.” Lily acknowledged as she tried to figure out any potential cons to the plan. She finished her gin and cleared her throat. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
I’m in. Your eyes open. You are laying on your back but with your head turned to the right. Poor thing. You shouldn’t sleep that way. You’ll cramp. But that’s not really my concern right now. Your left arm is at your side but allowing about three inches of space. Your right arm is up and under your pillow. Your legs are spread around a foot and a half apart.
And what’s this? You like to sleep in the nude…
Delightful.
You realize what’s happening. It’s happened before. You are awake. You are aware. But you cannot move. Like a patient suddenly waking up during surgery, your mind instantly panics. But it doesn’t matter. All you can see is the white wall to your right, which is now the darkest shade of gray since all of the lights are out. You can’t see me. You can’t even turn your head. You are frozen in place. But your senses are all finely tuned. You can taste. You can smell.
You can feel.
You hear something out in the hall. Footsteps, slow and careful. Someone… or something… is moving towards your bedroom. Your always sleep with the door open, don’t you? That’s why you can faintly hear those steps growing closer… and closer…
You must be absolutely terrified at this point. I enter the room silently. What am I? A figment? A shadow person? A demon? You don’t know. Your mind begins to imagine the most horrifying thing it can to explain what is now standing right beside your bed. It’s just me. But you can’t know that…
Oh, what must be going on in that wonderfully imaginative brain of yours… I can’t even imagine. You sense me walk around to the foot of the bed. You can’t move your head… but maybe you can just use your eyes to look down, straining them enough to see at least some part of me. But you don’t. Maybe you can’t. Or maybe you can… but you’re too scared to do so. It doesn’t matter. I am here… with you. And you can’t even imagine what is about to happen to you…
You feel something pointed touch the bottom of your left foot. It slowly drags up the middle of your naked sole.
You smile… even despite your fear. This is amazing to me. You are experiencing one of the scariest phenomenons that any living human can… and you still feel the effects of a tickle. Even in your most frightened state… you can still smile.
Good.
A second sharp fingernail now joins the first, lazily trailing up and down the arch of your foot.
I must say… you have a very sexy giggle.
“Ticklish?” You hear a voice. It’s not coming directly from me, though. It’s a disembodied voice. One that sounds almost like the echoed, ghostly voice of a very young girl. A child. You try to respond, but you can’t form words. Those two nails move to tease along your instep. “This is a very ticklish foot. Isn’t it, mister?” The voice asks. The nails trail over the tops of your toes and you giggle again. I gently piggy the middle toe before suddenly, the touches stop.
You breathe. That was intense, wasn’t it? But now there is only silence and darkness once again. You are so confused now. Why would a ghost or demonic entity want to tickle you? You don’t know what to think. You can only imagine that there is some far more nefarious intent here. You can still feel my presence in the room. But now… I am moving once again. I am slowly stepping back over to the side of the bed. If only you could turn your head to the other side and see me. But you can’t. I sit beside you. You know that I am only inches away from you. You must be so fearful.
A fingernail touches your tummy, drawing a slow, circular pattern around your bellybutton.
“You know you’re ticklish.” You hear the childish voice tease you again. When it does, you give me another giggle. The finger creeps gently into your bellybutton. The fingernail is touching that lovely knot so gently, I can barely feel as though I am touching anything at all.
But you can feel it. Your giggles make that clear enough.
“Tickle tickle, tummy button…” The voice is at once innocent and appropriately unnerving.
“Where are you the most ticklish?” I finally speak to you in my own voice. Seductive and smooth. The tickling of your bellybutton is causing your penis to swell. “It’s not here… though you certainly don’t seem to mind.” It doesn’t matter to me that you can’t verbally respond to me. I just need you to listen to what I have to say to you. “You’re giggling… you’re growing… you’re giggling… you’re growing…” I tell you over and over again until your erection is every bit as firm as your bed-frame. It looks magnificent. I can’t help but admire it. And even though you can’t see me do it… I lean down to give you the softest peck right at the base of the underside.
Another giggle? Oh, mister… you are in trouble…
You feel fingertips as soft as feathers tickle up and down your penis. And after each successful pass from base to head and back again, I give that head a loving kiss.
It’s when I start my kisses on your scrotum though, that your giggling becomes more frenetic. I would give my soul to know what is going through your head right now. You can’t move. You can’t wake up. You can’t even see me. All you can do is feel my caring yet dangerous touches.
I get the most amusing sound out of you when my pillowy lips blow the gentlest zerbert on the seam of your scrotum. I blow two more before once again… the tickling stops.
You’re trying so hard to will yourself awake. You don’t know if you can stand the tension of not knowing who I am or what is happening or why. You want it to end. You want to wake up. But I am not done with you yet. It’s time to bring this home. I throw a leg over you. It is only now that you realize that I am just as nude as you are. I take you… and I guide your erection into it’s warm and comforting home. You gasp in the sweetest way. Leaning forwards, I allow my gigantic breasts to rest on your chest. You can’t move… so you can’t thrust. But that’s okay. I’ll take care of you. I move slowly up and down on top of you. My hips expertly sway and rock to allow form maximum tantalization. You feel the weight of my bosom and you are breathing very deeply.
“Mister, you’re awfully sensitive.” I tell you. “You want to be strong in this moment. But you’re only as strong as your weakest link.”
You feel a single fingernail touch down in the well of your right underarm. There’s that smile again.
“Hi there, weakest link.” That single fingernail presses in barely a millimeter… and then… it travels… about an inch per second… down to your top and second ribs, and then back up to that wonderfully soft patch of skin. It does this over… and over… and over… keeping perfect pace and pressure. It is the worst tickle that you have ever felt. And that is when I tell you in the most compassionate yet threatening tone that I can express…
“Cooooooooochie… Coooooooochie… Coooooochie…”
You are laughing so hard… so desperately. But at the same time, my womanhood is enveloping and nurturing that most stiff and nervous organ. You can’t hold on.
“Coooooooooochie…”
You cum inside of me as I tickle you and sing that wonderful word to you in such a teasing, maternal voice…
TWO DAYS LATER
“So how did his session go earlier today?” Lily asked, twirling her black hair as she listened for Jenni’s response over the phone.
“Let me put it this way…” Jenni replied. “I might get a grant if I can prove that such an experience is a real cure for sleep paralysis. Hard to fear it if you love it…”
“This is really risky.” Lily voiced her disapproval over her glass of gin. It was never above Jenni for her to try and give Lily a buzz when she wanted a favor from her. Lily was lounging on Jenni’s couch while Jenni sat in her recliner with a glass of her merlot.
“Lily, the guy needs help.”
“And you really think this will help? Or do you think it might scar him for life?”
“Just look at this, okay?” Jenni got up and joined her bewitching friend on the couch, showing her a print out that she picked up off of the coffee table. “There is no known cure or even treatment for this.”
“Jen… and I really shouldn’t be telling you this…” Jenni had never seen Lily act so warily. “Sleep Paralysis is not something that you want to mess with. He could be just having issues with his sleeping patterns… or there could actually be some demonic force behind it. I am just telling you as someone who knows a thing or two about demons and the supernatural. You can’t know this kind of thing for sure. And the last thing that you or anybody else wants is to have some dark entity attach itself to you because you are interfering with one of it’s practices. It’s too risky. I won’t do it.”
Jenni sighed and put the print out back on the table, sipping her wine. It was no secret to her friends and family that Jenni had a PHD and practiced psychology when she wasn’t working her clown gigs. Her newest patient was suffering from sleep paralysis. Jenni had assumed that it was related to night terrors that he had endured as a child but the lack of research on sleep paralysis made it nearly impossible to make any sure connection.
It was also no secret that Jenni loved to try experimental forms of therapy and treatments… or that she loved to tickle the living daylights out of her patients as part of the therapy.
It was something of a secret though, that on occasion Jenni would enlist Lily to use her powers of witchcraft to allow her to enter the dreams of her patients as part of their treatments. Jenni had only done this a few times but now she was asking Lily to allow her entry into a possible sleep paralysis episode. Jenni couldn’t really argue with Lily’s apprehension. All of the witch’s points were quite valid. And Jenni didn’t want to put herself in danger anymore than Lily did.
“Wait a moment.” Jenni felt a light bulb go off. “What if he only thinks that it’s sleep paralysis?”
“What do you mean?”
“He thinks it’s real but it’s just a dream. We don’t tap into it. We just simulate it.”
“Because there is a big difference between a nightmare and a sleep paralysis episode.” Lily pointed out.
“Well yeah, but he’s not going to know the difference when it is actually happening. He has told me himself that he is incapable of lucid dreaming. He won’t be able to tell. If we do it right, even after he wakes up, he will think it was real.”
“Now… that might actually work.” Lily acknowledged as she tried to figure out any potential cons to the plan. She finished her gin and cleared her throat. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
I’m in. Your eyes open. You are laying on your back but with your head turned to the right. Poor thing. You shouldn’t sleep that way. You’ll cramp. But that’s not really my concern right now. Your left arm is at your side but allowing about three inches of space. Your right arm is up and under your pillow. Your legs are spread around a foot and a half apart.
And what’s this? You like to sleep in the nude…
Delightful.
You realize what’s happening. It’s happened before. You are awake. You are aware. But you cannot move. Like a patient suddenly waking up during surgery, your mind instantly panics. But it doesn’t matter. All you can see is the white wall to your right, which is now the darkest shade of gray since all of the lights are out. You can’t see me. You can’t even turn your head. You are frozen in place. But your senses are all finely tuned. You can taste. You can smell.
You can feel.
You hear something out in the hall. Footsteps, slow and careful. Someone… or something… is moving towards your bedroom. Your always sleep with the door open, don’t you? That’s why you can faintly hear those steps growing closer… and closer…
You must be absolutely terrified at this point. I enter the room silently. What am I? A figment? A shadow person? A demon? You don’t know. Your mind begins to imagine the most horrifying thing it can to explain what is now standing right beside your bed. It’s just me. But you can’t know that…
Oh, what must be going on in that wonderfully imaginative brain of yours… I can’t even imagine. You sense me walk around to the foot of the bed. You can’t move your head… but maybe you can just use your eyes to look down, straining them enough to see at least some part of me. But you don’t. Maybe you can’t. Or maybe you can… but you’re too scared to do so. It doesn’t matter. I am here… with you. And you can’t even imagine what is about to happen to you…
You feel something pointed touch the bottom of your left foot. It slowly drags up the middle of your naked sole.
You smile… even despite your fear. This is amazing to me. You are experiencing one of the scariest phenomenons that any living human can… and you still feel the effects of a tickle. Even in your most frightened state… you can still smile.
Good.
A second sharp fingernail now joins the first, lazily trailing up and down the arch of your foot.
I must say… you have a very sexy giggle.
“Ticklish?” You hear a voice. It’s not coming directly from me, though. It’s a disembodied voice. One that sounds almost like the echoed, ghostly voice of a very young girl. A child. You try to respond, but you can’t form words. Those two nails move to tease along your instep. “This is a very ticklish foot. Isn’t it, mister?” The voice asks. The nails trail over the tops of your toes and you giggle again. I gently piggy the middle toe before suddenly, the touches stop.
You breathe. That was intense, wasn’t it? But now there is only silence and darkness once again. You are so confused now. Why would a ghost or demonic entity want to tickle you? You don’t know what to think. You can only imagine that there is some far more nefarious intent here. You can still feel my presence in the room. But now… I am moving once again. I am slowly stepping back over to the side of the bed. If only you could turn your head to the other side and see me. But you can’t. I sit beside you. You know that I am only inches away from you. You must be so fearful.
A fingernail touches your tummy, drawing a slow, circular pattern around your bellybutton.
“You know you’re ticklish.” You hear the childish voice tease you again. When it does, you give me another giggle. The finger creeps gently into your bellybutton. The fingernail is touching that lovely knot so gently, I can barely feel as though I am touching anything at all.
But you can feel it. Your giggles make that clear enough.
“Tickle tickle, tummy button…” The voice is at once innocent and appropriately unnerving.
“Where are you the most ticklish?” I finally speak to you in my own voice. Seductive and smooth. The tickling of your bellybutton is causing your penis to swell. “It’s not here… though you certainly don’t seem to mind.” It doesn’t matter to me that you can’t verbally respond to me. I just need you to listen to what I have to say to you. “You’re giggling… you’re growing… you’re giggling… you’re growing…” I tell you over and over again until your erection is every bit as firm as your bed-frame. It looks magnificent. I can’t help but admire it. And even though you can’t see me do it… I lean down to give you the softest peck right at the base of the underside.
Another giggle? Oh, mister… you are in trouble…
You feel fingertips as soft as feathers tickle up and down your penis. And after each successful pass from base to head and back again, I give that head a loving kiss.
It’s when I start my kisses on your scrotum though, that your giggling becomes more frenetic. I would give my soul to know what is going through your head right now. You can’t move. You can’t wake up. You can’t even see me. All you can do is feel my caring yet dangerous touches.
I get the most amusing sound out of you when my pillowy lips blow the gentlest zerbert on the seam of your scrotum. I blow two more before once again… the tickling stops.
You’re trying so hard to will yourself awake. You don’t know if you can stand the tension of not knowing who I am or what is happening or why. You want it to end. You want to wake up. But I am not done with you yet. It’s time to bring this home. I throw a leg over you. It is only now that you realize that I am just as nude as you are. I take you… and I guide your erection into it’s warm and comforting home. You gasp in the sweetest way. Leaning forwards, I allow my gigantic breasts to rest on your chest. You can’t move… so you can’t thrust. But that’s okay. I’ll take care of you. I move slowly up and down on top of you. My hips expertly sway and rock to allow form maximum tantalization. You feel the weight of my bosom and you are breathing very deeply.
“Mister, you’re awfully sensitive.” I tell you. “You want to be strong in this moment. But you’re only as strong as your weakest link.”
You feel a single fingernail touch down in the well of your right underarm. There’s that smile again.
“Hi there, weakest link.” That single fingernail presses in barely a millimeter… and then… it travels… about an inch per second… down to your top and second ribs, and then back up to that wonderfully soft patch of skin. It does this over… and over… and over… keeping perfect pace and pressure. It is the worst tickle that you have ever felt. And that is when I tell you in the most compassionate yet threatening tone that I can express…
“Cooooooooochie… Coooooooochie… Coooooochie…”
You are laughing so hard… so desperately. But at the same time, my womanhood is enveloping and nurturing that most stiff and nervous organ. You can’t hold on.
“Coooooooooochie…”
You cum inside of me as I tickle you and sing that wonderful word to you in such a teasing, maternal voice…
TWO DAYS LATER
“So how did his session go earlier today?” Lily asked, twirling her black hair as she listened for Jenni’s response over the phone.
“Let me put it this way…” Jenni replied. “I might get a grant if I can prove that such an experience is a real cure for sleep paralysis. Hard to fear it if you love it…”
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