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Distressed Housewife

BlackJack008

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Jul 17, 2002
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Sherry’s life sucked. Her husband was an obsessive compulsive schlub who didn’t show her any affection. Her two sons were shiftless and lazy and refused to do any of the housework. Her step daughter hated her and never talked to her. Which confused Sherry to no end as she had only ever shown that girl love. Her dog, the only creature in the house that cared about her, was dying, slowly. It was confusing as well that her husband didn’t pay attention to her. She was an attractive woman for forty-five. She wore her blonde hair short and curled. She had few wrinkles. She carried a tan throughout the year. And she had a nice curvaceous body with ample breasts and a pretty girl-next-door face. So she sat alone every night reading a romance novel and dreaming of what she could have had. It was on one such night when the doorbell rang. She got up, in her bathrobe and walked to the door. She peered out the window into the darkness outside. There was a box on the porch. She opened the door and bent over to pick up the package when out of the shadows leapt a man in a black sweat suit and ski mask. He covered her mouth and nose with a damp cloth and she fell into a deep sleep…

Sherry awoke to find herself bound tightly to a chair with white rope. Her wrists were bound behind her back, rope looped itself above and below her breasts binding her to the chair. Her knees were tied together. Her ankles were locked tightly in a set of wooden stocks. She had lost her bathrobe and now sat in her white lacy bra and panties. She also noticed a white cleave gag in her mouth and realized screaming would be useless. The man stepped out of the shadows. “Hello Sherry. I realize your life is horrible. You are mistreated and emotionally abused. So I brought you here…to make you laugh.” He bent down by the soles of her tanned feet. Her high pale arches. And he grinned. “Want to laugh?” Sherry’s face went pale and sweat beads began to form on her forehead. She was insanely ticklish. “Mmmph.” Was the closest thing to no she could find. The man grinned again and moved his hand towards her arch…
 
And?

Okay...ready for part 2. Will Sherry find relief from her humdrum existence? Is she a closet Tkphile? Perhaps that mysterious figure in black is someone rather well acquainted with Ms Sherrys problems? Onwards mate, onwards! 😛 Q
 
Please continue this story, BlackJack, Sherry needs to get tickled silly! Thanks, dude. 😎
 
Part III Out

Bumping this and Part II to the top so you can read them and the new PART III. Hope you like. -Adam-
 
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