RSS Feed

Tag Archives: fetish

I am Nightcrawler…Part II

Posted on

(continued)

I couldn’t figure it out.  There was a long, dark hall and many doors, some with light peeking underneath. I heard muffled voices, laughter…moaning.  Oh shit.  The moaning got louder, deeper then…a whip cracked followed by a scream.  That’s it, I’m outta here.

I reached for the door but there was no handle. I ran my hands all over the door.  I started to freak.  Don’t panic Nicole, there has to be a handle. I took a deep, cleansing breath then tried again...holy shit, there’s no handle!  How do I get out of here?!

Suddenly the door clicked.   A man’s voice came from the other side. “I won’t be long so park close”, he said to someone.

My instincts told me to run.  I sprinted down the hall, slipped into a dark room and shut the door.   Man it was dark.  For real, pitch black.  I searched the wall for a light switch.  Nothing.  Great.  I reached for the door…NO HANDLE!  Jesus!  Who designed this place?  Ted Bundy?

I heard someone breathing then…someone touched me.

I screamed.  Like a really good horror movie scream.

From the darkness….”Shhhh”.

“Who are you?  How do I get out of here?” I asked.

Again, “shhhhhh”.  But this time it came from more than one person.

I stood there, terrified then someone took my hand, tender, non threatening.  I was led through the room. I shivered as various hands touched my body along the way then, a door opened allowing a faint sliver of light in.  I turned, caught a glimpse before the door closed behind me.  There were at least twenty naked women in that room.

On the other side of the door I was able to see my rescuer; a handsome man with crystal blue eyes and a warm smile.

blue eyed guy

When I got my bearings I realized we were in a lounge.  He led me to a table and like a gentleman, pulled my chair out then sat across from me.

“You okay?”  he asked.

“I guess so.  What the hell was that?”

I nervously looked around.  The place was  intimate, lit with candles and decorated with couches as well as tables and chairs.  There were people scattered about.  Some mingled and sipped drinks, a few more cozy couples whispered and giggled, and in the corner one couple was in a full make-out hump session on a couch. Whoa…that’s graphic.  He caught me staring.

“Your first time here?  Didn’t you get a menu?”

“Menu? No.  I, ahh..”

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket.  It was a layout of the place and each room had a name.

“What room were you trying to find?”

“I’m not sure.”

He stared at me a moment, like he was trying to figure me out.  Wow…I’ve never seen eyes like that before.

“Who are you here with?” he asked. “You signed the waiver when you came in, didn’t you?”

I didn’t know what to say. He realized I was uncomfortable.  “Never mind.  That’s none of my business. How about just telling me your name”.

“Nicole”.  You told him your real name?  You’re a dumb ass! 

“Nicole…I’m Mason and I’ll be your tour guide here at The Chamber”.

“The Chamber?” I asked.

“Okay.  I don’t even want to know why you don’t know where you are.  Let’s just take a look at the menu so you don’t end up somewhere that will scar you for life, like here”. He pointed at a room labeled…

“Plushie Paradise?” I asked, not understanding what I just read.

“It’s where people dress up in animal costumes and hump each other”, he said.  “You don’t seem that depraved.  I’m assuming that’s not what you’re here for”.

Confused, I read the other room names.  “Whip it?”

“That’s pretty self explanatory.  It can be fun although sometimes people get carried away and it really hurts”, he said.

I read another room name, “The Confessional?”

“Yeah.  It’s pretty sick.  People confess to a priest or nun then they, well, have to do their penance.  It’s more popular than you’d think”.

This place is demented.  I needed to know more.  “What’s the Womb Room?” I asked.

“Nicole…you don’t want to know.  The Walking Dead Room is new.  Zombie sex. Zombies are really popular right now”.

I studied the map for an escape.  “Is this Back Door room a way out?”

He laughed.  “Not quite.  It’s, well…you know”.

I didn’t know.  I had no idea what he was talking about or what this fucking place was.  I just wanted to get out of here. Oh wait…back door.  I get it. No, not going there.  Eric tried to sneak in there once and I was in pain for a week.  Never, ever again…ever.  Ouch.

There were a few more rooms on the map. “What’s the Crib”?

“Grownup babies.  Adult diapers, bottle feedings, spanking, Nannies”, he answered.

BINGO!!

“Mostly men go in there, if you can believe it.”  He smiled warmly. “I guess we never really grow up.”

I’m not sure I wanted the answer, but I asked anyway…”Are you into that kind of thing?”  Please say no…you’re too fricken cute.

“No”, he laughed.  “Not into anything like that.  By the way, if you need to use the bathroom, don’t go into the room labeled The Bathroom…it’s a horror show in there.  Use the Ladies Room.”

“Oooh.  Thanks for the warning”.  Well, what now Nicole?   I need to go into the Crib but if I tell him, he’ll think I’m a freak.

“Do you want a drink?”  He asked.   “I know I could use one.”

“Yes.  Me too, thanks.”

“Margarita?” he asked.

“Perfect. I’m going to run to the Ladies Room. I’ll take my map.”

“Don’t get lost”. He shot me a killer smile then headed to the bar.

I didn’t have much time.  The doors on this side weren’t labeled but according to the map, “The Crib” was two doors down from the room we came out of which was…checking the map….The Hoedown?  Huh?  Isn’t that like square dancing?  I’m confused.

I took my chances and slowly cracked open the door.  Nursery type music played softly in the background.  I gathered some nerve and peeked in.

Oh God…I’m going to need a lobotomy after this.

Advertisements

Top Secret Mission – Codename: Nightcrawler

Posted on

bait 1You can’t conduct a successful mission without a cool codename.  And no, I’m not a Marvel fan so simmer down comic book geeks. It’s a fishing reference.  When I was little, I used to go with my Dad and always felt sorry for those “Nightcrawler” worms he used as bait. Poor things, dangling off a hook, awaiting their doom.  Much like me this week except, I was man bait.

Lambert and I were supposed to go on another stakeout the night after prom, but he cancelled.  Apparently his mother busted her knee falling off a paddle board.  Now we all saw Mother Lambert the night  he was appointed Vice Principal, no way that old bat was getting on a paddle board. I think prom night spooked him. I’m surprised but then, not surprised.  I’m surprised because we were so close on prom night, at one point I actually thought he was going to tell me he loved me.  But I’m not surprised because…he’s a guy, we got close, he panicked.

Not wanting to go to jail, I really needed to find out what happened to Shannon (A.K.A. “Shanny the Nanny”), so I did the stakeout on my own.  Lambert told me to text him if anything happened.  Honestly, I had only planned to stay a couple hours but I wasn’t in front of Senator Richard’s house ten minutes before he came out and took off in his Jaguar.  Still setting up my snacks, I nervously scrambled to get my mini-van started.  My hummus platter fell to the floor as I raced to catch up with him. I tailed him for an hour before he finally stopped to get gas.  I started to freak because it looked like the Senator was headed to the city and Lambert wasn’t returning my texts.

I decided to keep following him.  Even through the Lincoln Tunnel, his Jag was no match for my mini van and years of experience zipping my kids to/from school and practices.  Luckily we only drove a few blocks into the city before he pulled in a secured lot and gave his keys to a valet, who seemed to know who he was. I double parked and watched as he approached a steel door, punched a security code on a keypad then enter.  Shit!!  I should have grabbed my binoculars!

I wasn’t sure what to do.  I sent Lambert another text but still, no reply. As I sat there, a BMW pulled into the lot, a man got out and headed to the door.  This time I grabbed my binoculars and aimed it at the keypad.  “198374”.  Got it, but now what? As the valet got in the BMW I made a snap decision.  I left the car double parked, waited for the valet to pull away then ran over to the steel door.  My hands shook as I punched in the code, 9-1-8-7-3-4.  “ACCESS DENIED”.  Shit! I had the numbers jumbled up.  I tried a couple more times with no success.  The valet saw me as he headed back to his booth.

“Hey!  Are you supposed to be here?” he yelled.

One last chance…1-9-8-3-7-4…the door unlocked.  I quickly slipped in.  Whew.

It was dark inside.  I stood by the door as my eyes adjusted.

Holy shit.  What the fuck is this place?

(to be continued…)

WP Writing Challenge: DUSTBUSTER

Posted on

Today’s Word Press Writing Challenge:  New ways to use cleaning supplies.

I never thought of a “Dustbuster” as anything more than a valuable tool in my lazy cleaner’s supply box, along with my can’t-live-without Lysol wipes of course.  But a recent exchange with a much younger man, who much to my surprise flirted with me shamelessly, got me thinking…

dust buster

We all know what we call older women who go after younger guys.  It begins with a “C” and ends with an “ougar”.

Close up of a Cougar face in an Autumn forest with red maple leaves

But what do we call young guys who go after older women?  “Geriatric Gigolos”?   “Senior Seducers”?

They’re not as common as cougars but for all the young guys out there with an appetite for Betty White, I hereby dub thee: “DUSTBUSTERS”.

Let’s be honest, most of us older ladies don’t get it as often as we used to and we need our pipes cleaned once in a while.  So, when your drain is clogged and your brain is fogged, who you gonna call?  DUSTBUSTERS!

When cobwebs hang, from your old lady thang, who you gonna call?

DUSTBUSTERS!

dust buster couple

One more…

If your vag feels funny, you might have a dust bunny, who you gonna call?

You know the rest.  🙂

 

I need a catchy title…

Posted on

The events of this past month are truly book-worthy.  How about, “The Nanny Napper” or maybe “The Disappearance of the Diapering She-Devil”. Wait…I’ve got it!  “The Scandalous Secrets of Shanny the Nanny”.

“Shanny the Nanny” is what Shannon (my evil step sister),  calls herself.  More importantly, this is what her clients call her.  Shanny’s long client list include not only the newly retired Principal Burke, but many other high-profile names.  How do I know this?  Because Lambert confessed to not only retrieving the bizarre man-baby photo album from Shannon’s house, but grabbing her computer as well.

That was the first bombshell.  Then came the second.

Lambert anonymously used some incriminating information he found on her computer against several of these high-profile clients.  I guess he saw how well it worked with Principal Burke so he thought what the hell, I’ll just bribe, extort and threaten some high-ranking people. He thinks one of these people thought it was Shannon making the threats so they…well…who knows what they did to her but she’s gone!  Was she fitted for cement shoes?  Sent on a one way trip to Siberia?  Put into a wood chipper and is now fertilizer? Right now it’s a mystery only a few of us know about because Carol doesn’t want to report her missing yet.

Now for number three.  Eric was served his divorce papers at work yesterday.  I totally forgot that I had listed his affair with Shannon as one of the reasons for divorce.  Cut to the chase…Eric thinks I’m responsible for Shannon’s disappearance.  Once he realized I knew about the affair and the diaper thing, he put the pieces together and figured out I was the one who broke into Shannon’s house and trashed it.  So of course it looks like I took the photo album and her computer.  Holy crap what a mess.  He threatened to tell the police so I threatened to make his diaper photo and his affair with my step sister public.  We ended in a stalemate…for now.

So what the hell happens now?  Guilt riddled Lambert thinks we should do some detective work.  He had contacted four people on that list so it has to be one of them.  I always wanted to be Nancy Drew. Who should Lambert be?  Sherlock Holmes? (the Robert Downey Jr. version) Or Magnum P.I.?  Nah..I’m not a moustache gal.  I do however, really dig ascots…ZOIKS!

freddie and daphne

Serial Freak

Posted on

And no, I don’t mean he’s koo koo for CoCo Puffs. I saw this article today, categorized under “Weird News” in my local paper: “Police are investigating a number of home burglaries in which the suspect(s) only stole female under garments. The incidents, which appear to be related, have occurred over a six month period. Local police urge anyone with information to please come forward.”

panty theifCould it be Lambert?  It’s  just so demented. I Googled “Panty Thief” and was surprised how many cases there were of people doing this. Is it a conspiracy?  Maybe this is Victoria’s secret. She hires men to steal women’s panties so they’re forced to buy new ones.  They could at least leave a freakin’ coupon.

An Accessory for an Accessory

Posted on

Seems like only yesterday I complained about being a bored housewife.  Now, five months later, I’m an accessory to a crime.

As planned, I met Lambert Saturday night.  He wanted to go somewhere private so we met behind an abandoned building at the edge of town. After all the stress I’d been under, I was looking forward to a little demented fun.  Unfortunately fun was not what he had in mind.

We sat in his car.  Lambert wasn’t his usual mysterious, feisty self.  Instead he was high-strung and nervous.  Immediately he broke out the photo album.

“I have to show you something”.  He was excited, like he couldn’t wait to show me.

He opened to a photo of a man in his late 50’s, bald head and hairy chest, in a diaper with a pacifier in his mouth.  Ewww. I don’t get how this could possibly turn someone on.

“Does he look familiar to you?” Lambert asked.  “Focus on his face.”

Lambert covered the guy’s body with his hand.  Actually, he did look familiar. Holy shit…who the hell is that?  I knew him but just couldn’t place him.

Lambert couldn’t wait anymore, “It’s Principal Burke”.

Oh my God it was.  I was in total shock.  “Why are you showing me this?”

“That bastard Burke has done nothing but give me a hard time since I began teaching there.  I’ve put in fifteen years.  He was just a teacher when I started.”

Lambert was angry, this can’t be good.  “What are you gonna do?”

“I want him out, but not before he gives me a glowing recommendation for Vice Principal.”

“That’s blackmail”, I said.   No shit, Captain Obvious.  “I don’t want to be involved in this”.

“You’re already involved Nicole.  But don’t worry, he’ll do anything to keep this from coming out.  Just think of it as payment for getting you out of trouble that night.”

“It sounds like you’re blackmailing me”. I was pissed but also scared shitless.

“Do you really expect me to just sit on this information?  That sounds pretty hypocritical from someone who broke into her step sister’s house.”

He had a point.  Lately I’ve been the queen of revenge.  Dammit. “You’re sure he’ll comply?”

“Nicole, this would ruin him if it got out.” He was very convincing but then he took my hand and turned on the smolder. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.”

I kept  thinking, he knows that I know he stole all my underwear.  Are we never going to mention that?  Then, he kissed me.

He unbuttoned my blouse as he kissed my neck then lightly nibbled my ear and whispered, “Are you with me Nicole?”

I just have no willpower over this sexy, deviant, blackmailing underwear thief.  “Yes, Mister Lambert. I’m with you.”

cuffs

Sexual Fetishes: Where do you draw the line?

Posted on

I never considered myself a prude until recently.  I like sex and admit to being a bit “pervy” on occasion but this whole fetish culture, which seems more visible since the “Fifty Shades of Grey” phenomenon, it just boggles my mind what some of these people are into.   I’m even more shocked at how many people act out these weird and sometimes disturbing fetishes.

So now that I’m heading back into the dating scene, I guess I need to figure out where I draw the line.   And how do I let guys know where my line is?  That’s sort of an odd conversation to have on a first date.   Seated at a table in a nice restaurant, asking those typical first date “getting to know you” questions:

HIM:  “I’ve heard they have really great steaks here.  What’s your favorite food?”

ME:  “I don’t eat red meat but I love fish.  Have you ever licked anyone’s toes?”

HIM:  “Excuse me?”

ME:  “Or used someone as a human toilet?  Have you ever found an animal “attractive”?

HIM:  “Are you joking?”

ME:  “Just answer the questions please.  Do you own any leather garments besides a jacket?  Do you believe pantyhose are just for women?”

HIM:  “This is ridiculous.”

ME:  “Just one more question.  Other than when you were a child, have you ever worn a diaper or dressed up in a furry costume?”

HIM:  “I will not sit through any more of these questions.  And for your information, dressing up in a furry costume and rubbing against my plushy friends is not strange.  It’s comforting.  Goodbye Nicole, you prude.”

furries

Good thing my kids are grown cus I don’t think I could ever go to Disney World again.

%d bloggers like this: