nylonmaniac
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2006
- Messages
- 63
- Points
- 18
Hi Everyone,
This is my next attempt at a story. I've been writing different drafts of different angles leaving several different directions this story can go. As I continue to edit it, I'll add more parts, but there is no real end in sight. Please let me know what you think.
The Convention - Part 1
The trade conference was held at the Midtown Convention Center, where the polished tile floors gleamed under recessed lighting and every booth vied for attention with flashy signage, sleek demos, and glossy brochures. Amid the rows of HR tech solutions and workplace training modules, one booth stood out — both for its rustic simplicity and for the small but growing crowd that hovered nearby.
Frank leaned casually against a raised platform where a sturdy set of wooden stocks had been mounted. Sanded smooth and stained a warm oak, they were secured to the booth floor, flanked by a black velvet-lined table that displayed a neatly arranged row of tickling implements: feathers, brushes, electric massagers, and slim-tipped paintbrushes. But what raised the most eyebrows was the open box labeled:
“TEST PAIRS: Sheer Knee-High Nylons (Black, Taupe, Nude). Try Before You Squirm.”
“Is this… serious?” a woman in a navy pencil skirt and matching blazer asked, arms crossed. Her badge read “Lana Morrison, VP of Operations.”
Frank smiled. “Absolutely. These are used in controlled, team-approved disciplinary programs. Lighthearted, consensual, and surprisingly effective at correcting certain behavioral patterns.”
Lana raised an eyebrow. “And the nylons?”
“They increase sensitivity significantly,” Frank said, lifting one pair and holding it between his fingers. “You’d be surprised how many workplaces have transitioned from boring write-ups to brief but memorable accountability sessions.” He gestured toward a printed chart titled: “Engagement & Compliance: Post-Tickling Metrics.”
From the side, another attendee leaned in — a red-haired woman with glasses and a power suit that suggested law or finance. “Gina Park – Compliance Consultant,” her tag read.
“You actually use this on employees?” Gina asked, incredulous but not without interest. She adjusted her glasses and peered into the box of nylons.
Frank nodded. “Only on those who sign a clause in their behavior contract. It’s entirely voluntary — but those who agree tend to meet deadlines faster and show up to meetings on time.”
From behind them, a soft laugh. “I mean… I am curious.” A tall, statuesque woman with espresso-toned skin and a charcoal pantsuit stepped closer. She’d already removed her heels, revealing bare feet with deep red polish. “Tanya Ellis – Regional HR Director.”
Lana gave her a sideways glance. “You’d actually let him tickle you?”
Tanya shrugged. “It’s not like I haven’t had worse during onboarding seminars.”
Frank smiled and gestured toward a padded bench beside the stocks. “The demo lasts less than two minutes. You can keep your nylons on, or slip a pair on from here if you’re barefoot. We also offer toe ties for full effect.”
Gina muttered, “Toe ties?” She knelt slightly to inspect the setup, then looked up. “I’ve read about this method — something about restraint plus focused stimulation creating long-lasting associations.”
Lana rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide a small smile. “This is absolutely going in my report. I’ll need pictures.”
Frank chuckled. “Photos are encouraged — just not during tickling without consent.”
Tanya looked down at the sheer black pair of nylons Frank was now offering her. She took them, holding the lightweight fabric in both hands. “These really make it worse?”
“Oh, yes,” Frank said with a grin. “They amplify the sensitivity tenfold. Slippery, sheer — like setting your feet on edge before we even begin.”
From a few booths away, another attendee wandered over, her lanyard swinging as she approached. She was petite, with blunt-cut blonde hair, a smart slate-gray dress, and high heels she immediately kicked off. Her badge read “Nora Klein – People & Culture Specialist.” Her toes wiggled on the carpet.
“I saw the demo sign and had to come over. What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Frank said, handing her a fresh pair of nude nylons. “Pick your shade, slide them on, and take a seat in the stocks. We’ll test a few tools and get your feedback. Purely for demonstration… unless you want to implement it.”
Nora raised an eyebrow as she slowly began rolling one stocking up her calf. “Well, I am the one who has to deal with morale issues. If this actually works…”
From behind them, Lana scoffed, but didn’t walk away.
Gina crossed her arms again and murmured, “You know what? I’m not getting back in line for the espresso machine anytime soon. Give me the taupe ones. But I swear to God, if there are photos of me laughing like an idiot…”
Frank already had a clipboard out. “I’ll make a note. No photos unless requested. Now, let’s go in order. Tanya, you’re up first.”
As Tanya eased herself into the bench, slipping her long legs into the awaiting stocks, the nylon fabric now hugging her calves and feet, Lana took out her phone — for “documentation purposes,” of course.
Tanya settled back on the padded bench, a hint of amusement playing on her face. Her charcoal-gray pantsuit remained sharp and commanding, but the image was deliciously offset by her now nylon-clad feet sticking out from the end of the stocks. Frank gently guided her ankles into place, the worn leather cuffs clicking closed around them with a reassuring snugness.
“These feel… secure,” Tanya said, testing the restraints with a subtle flex of her legs.
Frank smiled. “That’s the idea. Comfortably restrained, never painful. We want focus, not stress.”
“I assume this is where I regret not moisturizing this morning?” Tanya quipped, wiggling her toes.
Behind her, Lana stood with arms crossed, clearly trying not to smirk. Gina had already slipped her own nylons on and was seated on a small bench to the side, nervously tapping her knees together. Nora was kneeling on the carpet, peering at the array of tickling tools like they were lab instruments.
“All right,” Frank said, selecting a long white feather with a gently curved tip. “We’ll begin with a light introduction. Tanya, just say ‘pause’ if you need a breather.”
“I’m not scared of a little feather,” she replied smoothly. “Bring it on.”
With a small nod, Frank leaned in and traced the tip of the feather along the underside of her right foot — from the heel, slowly up the arch, and across the ball.
Tanya flinched. Her toes curled involuntarily. “Hnnn—okay. That tickles way more than I thought it would.”
Frank moved the feather to her left foot, giving it a similar path. “That’s the nylon factor. These sheer ones create just enough glide and friction to wake up every nerve ending.”
She laughed, short and sharp, as the feather danced just beneath the base of her toes. “Okay. Okay, wow. You were not overselling it.”
From the side, Nora grinned. “I was skeptical, but that sounds pretty genuine.”
Gina leaned forward. “What would you rate that? Feather alone?”
“Like… a seven,” Tanya gasped, gripping the edges of the bench. “But it’s deceptive. It’s the slow stuff that gets you.”
Frank nodded approvingly. “Exactly right.”
He exchanged the feather for a soft detailing brush — thin bristles with a bit more precision. With no warning, he twirled it in small circles across Tanya’s right arch.
She jolted. “OHHh—okay that’s not fair!”
Frank grinned. “More intense?”
“Ten. Ten! That’s a ten!” Tanya laughed, tipping her head back as the brush swept across the sensitive stretch under her toes. “Okay! Wait, pause—pause!"
He stopped instantly, hands off. Tanya exhaled, her chest rising and falling beneath her blazer. Her face was lit up with a mix of adrenaline and disbelief.
Lana stepped forward, now unable to hide her amusement. “So, Director Ellis. How’s our performance review method treating you?”
Tanya wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks. I’m sweating. I hate how good this actually is.”
Frank uncuffed her ankles, and she sat up slowly, smoothing her suit and gently rubbing her feet.
Nora clapped softly. “That looked fun. Wildly impractical, but fun.”
“Try it and tell me that again,” Tanya said, slipping her heels back on with a grin. “You don’t feel humiliated. It’s like… cathartic chaos.”
Frank nodded. “That’s the goal. You get attention, adrenaline, and a physical reminder that doesn’t linger. It’s oddly therapeutic.”
Gina stood up, tugging her pencil skirt slightly. “All right. Let’s see if these taupe nylons do what you claim. But I want that soft brush ready. None of that feather warm-up nonsense.”
Frank motioned to the stocks. “Gladly.”
And as Tanya stepped aside to sip from the water Frank had offered, she watched Gina settle into the bench — her legs crossing momentarily before Frank gently guided her into position. Tanya turned to Lana, now standing beside her.
“You’re next, right?”
Lana narrowed her eyes, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “…We’ll see.”
This is my next attempt at a story. I've been writing different drafts of different angles leaving several different directions this story can go. As I continue to edit it, I'll add more parts, but there is no real end in sight. Please let me know what you think.
The Convention - Part 1
The trade conference was held at the Midtown Convention Center, where the polished tile floors gleamed under recessed lighting and every booth vied for attention with flashy signage, sleek demos, and glossy brochures. Amid the rows of HR tech solutions and workplace training modules, one booth stood out — both for its rustic simplicity and for the small but growing crowd that hovered nearby.
Frank leaned casually against a raised platform where a sturdy set of wooden stocks had been mounted. Sanded smooth and stained a warm oak, they were secured to the booth floor, flanked by a black velvet-lined table that displayed a neatly arranged row of tickling implements: feathers, brushes, electric massagers, and slim-tipped paintbrushes. But what raised the most eyebrows was the open box labeled:
“TEST PAIRS: Sheer Knee-High Nylons (Black, Taupe, Nude). Try Before You Squirm.”
“Is this… serious?” a woman in a navy pencil skirt and matching blazer asked, arms crossed. Her badge read “Lana Morrison, VP of Operations.”
Frank smiled. “Absolutely. These are used in controlled, team-approved disciplinary programs. Lighthearted, consensual, and surprisingly effective at correcting certain behavioral patterns.”
Lana raised an eyebrow. “And the nylons?”
“They increase sensitivity significantly,” Frank said, lifting one pair and holding it between his fingers. “You’d be surprised how many workplaces have transitioned from boring write-ups to brief but memorable accountability sessions.” He gestured toward a printed chart titled: “Engagement & Compliance: Post-Tickling Metrics.”
From the side, another attendee leaned in — a red-haired woman with glasses and a power suit that suggested law or finance. “Gina Park – Compliance Consultant,” her tag read.
“You actually use this on employees?” Gina asked, incredulous but not without interest. She adjusted her glasses and peered into the box of nylons.
Frank nodded. “Only on those who sign a clause in their behavior contract. It’s entirely voluntary — but those who agree tend to meet deadlines faster and show up to meetings on time.”
From behind them, a soft laugh. “I mean… I am curious.” A tall, statuesque woman with espresso-toned skin and a charcoal pantsuit stepped closer. She’d already removed her heels, revealing bare feet with deep red polish. “Tanya Ellis – Regional HR Director.”
Lana gave her a sideways glance. “You’d actually let him tickle you?”
Tanya shrugged. “It’s not like I haven’t had worse during onboarding seminars.”
Frank smiled and gestured toward a padded bench beside the stocks. “The demo lasts less than two minutes. You can keep your nylons on, or slip a pair on from here if you’re barefoot. We also offer toe ties for full effect.”
Gina muttered, “Toe ties?” She knelt slightly to inspect the setup, then looked up. “I’ve read about this method — something about restraint plus focused stimulation creating long-lasting associations.”
Lana rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide a small smile. “This is absolutely going in my report. I’ll need pictures.”
Frank chuckled. “Photos are encouraged — just not during tickling without consent.”
Tanya looked down at the sheer black pair of nylons Frank was now offering her. She took them, holding the lightweight fabric in both hands. “These really make it worse?”
“Oh, yes,” Frank said with a grin. “They amplify the sensitivity tenfold. Slippery, sheer — like setting your feet on edge before we even begin.”
From a few booths away, another attendee wandered over, her lanyard swinging as she approached. She was petite, with blunt-cut blonde hair, a smart slate-gray dress, and high heels she immediately kicked off. Her badge read “Nora Klein – People & Culture Specialist.” Her toes wiggled on the carpet.
“I saw the demo sign and had to come over. What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Frank said, handing her a fresh pair of nude nylons. “Pick your shade, slide them on, and take a seat in the stocks. We’ll test a few tools and get your feedback. Purely for demonstration… unless you want to implement it.”
Nora raised an eyebrow as she slowly began rolling one stocking up her calf. “Well, I am the one who has to deal with morale issues. If this actually works…”
From behind them, Lana scoffed, but didn’t walk away.
Gina crossed her arms again and murmured, “You know what? I’m not getting back in line for the espresso machine anytime soon. Give me the taupe ones. But I swear to God, if there are photos of me laughing like an idiot…”
Frank already had a clipboard out. “I’ll make a note. No photos unless requested. Now, let’s go in order. Tanya, you’re up first.”
As Tanya eased herself into the bench, slipping her long legs into the awaiting stocks, the nylon fabric now hugging her calves and feet, Lana took out her phone — for “documentation purposes,” of course.
Tanya settled back on the padded bench, a hint of amusement playing on her face. Her charcoal-gray pantsuit remained sharp and commanding, but the image was deliciously offset by her now nylon-clad feet sticking out from the end of the stocks. Frank gently guided her ankles into place, the worn leather cuffs clicking closed around them with a reassuring snugness.
“These feel… secure,” Tanya said, testing the restraints with a subtle flex of her legs.
Frank smiled. “That’s the idea. Comfortably restrained, never painful. We want focus, not stress.”
“I assume this is where I regret not moisturizing this morning?” Tanya quipped, wiggling her toes.
Behind her, Lana stood with arms crossed, clearly trying not to smirk. Gina had already slipped her own nylons on and was seated on a small bench to the side, nervously tapping her knees together. Nora was kneeling on the carpet, peering at the array of tickling tools like they were lab instruments.
“All right,” Frank said, selecting a long white feather with a gently curved tip. “We’ll begin with a light introduction. Tanya, just say ‘pause’ if you need a breather.”
“I’m not scared of a little feather,” she replied smoothly. “Bring it on.”
With a small nod, Frank leaned in and traced the tip of the feather along the underside of her right foot — from the heel, slowly up the arch, and across the ball.
Tanya flinched. Her toes curled involuntarily. “Hnnn—okay. That tickles way more than I thought it would.”
Frank moved the feather to her left foot, giving it a similar path. “That’s the nylon factor. These sheer ones create just enough glide and friction to wake up every nerve ending.”
She laughed, short and sharp, as the feather danced just beneath the base of her toes. “Okay. Okay, wow. You were not overselling it.”
From the side, Nora grinned. “I was skeptical, but that sounds pretty genuine.”
Gina leaned forward. “What would you rate that? Feather alone?”
“Like… a seven,” Tanya gasped, gripping the edges of the bench. “But it’s deceptive. It’s the slow stuff that gets you.”
Frank nodded approvingly. “Exactly right.”
He exchanged the feather for a soft detailing brush — thin bristles with a bit more precision. With no warning, he twirled it in small circles across Tanya’s right arch.
She jolted. “OHHh—okay that’s not fair!”
Frank grinned. “More intense?”
“Ten. Ten! That’s a ten!” Tanya laughed, tipping her head back as the brush swept across the sensitive stretch under her toes. “Okay! Wait, pause—pause!"
He stopped instantly, hands off. Tanya exhaled, her chest rising and falling beneath her blazer. Her face was lit up with a mix of adrenaline and disbelief.
Lana stepped forward, now unable to hide her amusement. “So, Director Ellis. How’s our performance review method treating you?”
Tanya wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks. I’m sweating. I hate how good this actually is.”
Frank uncuffed her ankles, and she sat up slowly, smoothing her suit and gently rubbing her feet.
Nora clapped softly. “That looked fun. Wildly impractical, but fun.”
“Try it and tell me that again,” Tanya said, slipping her heels back on with a grin. “You don’t feel humiliated. It’s like… cathartic chaos.”
Frank nodded. “That’s the goal. You get attention, adrenaline, and a physical reminder that doesn’t linger. It’s oddly therapeutic.”
Gina stood up, tugging her pencil skirt slightly. “All right. Let’s see if these taupe nylons do what you claim. But I want that soft brush ready. None of that feather warm-up nonsense.”
Frank motioned to the stocks. “Gladly.”
And as Tanya stepped aside to sip from the water Frank had offered, she watched Gina settle into the bench — her legs crossing momentarily before Frank gently guided her into position. Tanya turned to Lana, now standing beside her.
“You’re next, right?”
Lana narrowed her eyes, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “…We’ll see.”
