jfoottickler
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Jun 19, 2005
- Messages
- 75
- Points
- 8
You open your eyes and find yourself drenched. You’re outside, and it’s pouring rain. The thunder is loud, and almost deafening. You look to your left as a bolt of lightening slashes through a street post. As you look to your right, you see a pair of headlights down the street. You wave at the car, but the headlights draw closer. It seems as if the driver of this automobile won’t stop. As they come within striking distance, you dart out of the way, and you are splashed with mud and rain water. You get up, and notice you landed on someone’s front lawn. You go to the door for help.
You notice that the front door is cracked, so you peak inside to see if anyone is home.
“Hello?” you shout.
As lightening and thunder rage outdoors, you enter the mysterious house. It’s extremely dark, with no lights, and it looks like something straight out of an ‘80’s B horror flick. You continue to walk down the jagged hallway. On the walls are various photos of people with giant smiles on their faces. A lightening flash illuminates the room, and you see a kitchen, where you go to get a drink.
Opening the drawer for a glass, you find odd objects. Feathers, a toothbrush, rope. Not normal utensils. As you back up, you bump into a pair of stocks. The laughter of various men and women fills your head. Is it psychological? Or is it real?
“Can I help you?” asks a female voice.
You look around, but there is no one in sight.
“Up here” she says. You look up, and see the outline of a female on the ceiling. She jumps down next to you.
“Who are you?” she asks. Before you can answer, she interrupts.
“Come with me…” she grabs your hand and leads you back down the jagged hall. Her hands are like icicles.
She leads you into a dark room, and you both take a seat. As lightening flashes, you can kind of make out what she looks like. Pale skin, black hair, red lipstick, almost like Elvira. You take a seat, and she places her feet on you lap. She is wearing red pumps.
“Massage my feet” she demands.
You remove her left pump, revealing her fishnet clad foot. You dig your fingers into her sole, and here her purr with pleasure. As you continue to rub her ped, you wonder if she’s ticklish. You’ve never met this women, so figure, what the hell? You begin to wiggle your index finger around her sole, and she screeches! She’s ticklish! You move all your fingers around rapidly when suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your heart. You look down as you feel a wet substance touch your hands. A spear has been tossed through your chest. You drop dead.
“I said to massage my feet, not tickle them….perverts” she says.
“Well, in case you’re wondering, is this some twisted dream? Kind of…it’s really a nightmare. Welcome to my home. I’m Sinclair, the mistress. Tickling is often perceived as being fun. What most of you don’t know is that, actually, it can lead to serious and unforeseen consequences. Loss of job, relationships and sometimes…death” she says as she kicks your body.
"This is a place where I can explore your wildest tickling fantasies. But for each stroke of pleasure, I may stroke you with pain" she continues.
“Do you think you can hear my tales of ticklishness? Or do you think you might be afraid? After all, maybe you can be like me…and you can die laughing!!!!”
A lightening bolt flashes, as Sinclair exits to another dark room. Male and female laughter is heard, as we fade to black.
You notice that the front door is cracked, so you peak inside to see if anyone is home.
“Hello?” you shout.
As lightening and thunder rage outdoors, you enter the mysterious house. It’s extremely dark, with no lights, and it looks like something straight out of an ‘80’s B horror flick. You continue to walk down the jagged hallway. On the walls are various photos of people with giant smiles on their faces. A lightening flash illuminates the room, and you see a kitchen, where you go to get a drink.
Opening the drawer for a glass, you find odd objects. Feathers, a toothbrush, rope. Not normal utensils. As you back up, you bump into a pair of stocks. The laughter of various men and women fills your head. Is it psychological? Or is it real?
“Can I help you?” asks a female voice.
You look around, but there is no one in sight.
“Up here” she says. You look up, and see the outline of a female on the ceiling. She jumps down next to you.
“Who are you?” she asks. Before you can answer, she interrupts.
“Come with me…” she grabs your hand and leads you back down the jagged hall. Her hands are like icicles.
She leads you into a dark room, and you both take a seat. As lightening flashes, you can kind of make out what she looks like. Pale skin, black hair, red lipstick, almost like Elvira. You take a seat, and she places her feet on you lap. She is wearing red pumps.
“Massage my feet” she demands.
You remove her left pump, revealing her fishnet clad foot. You dig your fingers into her sole, and here her purr with pleasure. As you continue to rub her ped, you wonder if she’s ticklish. You’ve never met this women, so figure, what the hell? You begin to wiggle your index finger around her sole, and she screeches! She’s ticklish! You move all your fingers around rapidly when suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your heart. You look down as you feel a wet substance touch your hands. A spear has been tossed through your chest. You drop dead.
“I said to massage my feet, not tickle them….perverts” she says.
“Well, in case you’re wondering, is this some twisted dream? Kind of…it’s really a nightmare. Welcome to my home. I’m Sinclair, the mistress. Tickling is often perceived as being fun. What most of you don’t know is that, actually, it can lead to serious and unforeseen consequences. Loss of job, relationships and sometimes…death” she says as she kicks your body.
"This is a place where I can explore your wildest tickling fantasies. But for each stroke of pleasure, I may stroke you with pain" she continues.
“Do you think you can hear my tales of ticklishness? Or do you think you might be afraid? After all, maybe you can be like me…and you can die laughing!!!!”
A lightening bolt flashes, as Sinclair exits to another dark room. Male and female laughter is heard, as we fade to black.
