sole seeker1
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Thanks for all the positive feedback. You people were so nice that I thought I'd go ahead and whip out chapter two. Hope it suits you.
Anne’s Hospital Stay
Part 2 – Medicare Doesn’t Cover This
When we last left our heroine, Anne, she was in a hospital room with all four of her limbs secured to a traction device. Mark, another patient in the hospital, had just completed a visit in which he pointed out the vulnerability of her bare soles. He left the room only when Anne mentioned that her jealous husband, Jack, was due to visit at any time...
Betty, the nurse assigned to the nurses’ station in the Orthopedic Wing of Saint Agnes’ Hospital was passing by the door to Anne’s room when she heard what she thought was demented laughter coming from within. She started toward the door when a chime sounded from the public address system and announced that the crash-cart was needed for a Code Blue. Betty was a member of the emergency team because she was young and highly skilled, and in excellent physical condition. She was twenty-nine years old, with blonde hair that hung down past her shoulders and bright blue eyes. Although her large (size 38-C) chest got in the way on rare occasions, she was still a favorite of the hospital staff. She had nice legs, which she liked to show off in the short white nurse’s dresses she routinely wore. She got a charge out of the idea that lots of men and even some women got a peek up her dress on a daily basis. She also liked to wear sheer white stockings and sexy little panties she purchased from Victoria’s Secret.
Once the emergency was under control Betty returned to Anne’s room. She was about ten feet from the door when it opened inward. She was momentarily confused when she saw Mark, another one of her patients, hobble out of the room on his crutches. She had been sure that this room belonged to the young lady that was in traction. As Mark left the room he turned right and went down the hall away from the nurse. Betty decided to go on in and check that everything was ok.
The first thing she saw upon entering was that the patient, Anne, appeared to be in distress. She was red-faced and her hair was plastered to her head. Betty went straight up to the head of the bed and put the back of her left hand on Anne’s forehead. She said, “You poor dear, how are you feeling? Are you running a fever?”
Anne was just beginning to recover from Mark’s assault on her soles. She didn’t know who the pretty nurse was, but she was sure she didn’t want to admit to anyone that some pervert had just spent the last half-hour tickling the shit out of her feet. With all four of her limbs stretched out in traction, Anne was much too vulnerable to trust anyone with the knowledge of how ticklish she was. For all she knew, Betty might enjoy the hell out of having an immobile victim available for a little foot tickling.
As she felt Anne’s forehead, Betty was surprised to find that she did not feel especially warm. She wondered if there might be a problem with the lymphatic system. Accordingly, she gently ran her hands along the sides and back of Anne’s neck to check for swelling.
Anne was already hyper-ticklish from Mark’s visit. She barked out a sharp series of laughs as she felt Betty’s hands glide along her neck. “What the f*ck are you doing you perverted b*tch?” Immediately after she spoke, Anne was sorry she said it, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt she’d had all the torture she could endure for one day.
Betty tried to appear cool and professional after her initial shock. “I’m checking your glands for swelling, and there is no cause for abuse, ma’am!” Betty considered using more pressure to feel the area, because that probably would have tickled the patient less, but she was concerned about how hard she could press in this area until it was definite that there was no spinal injury. Besides, Betty thought to herself, this lady was acting like a b*tch, not her.
Betty began to take some satisfaction in the way Anne was twisting her head from side to side in an effort to avoid the light caresses of her examination. Anne began to plead, “Stop-stop-stop-STAAAAPPPP!! Ha-ha-ha-ha 0hhh-SHIIIIITTTTT!!”
The best part of a minute had passed and Betty still didn’t know if there was any swelling, because Anne was incapable of holding still long enough for her to tell. Betty decided that this wasn’t working, and she should just check another area. She brought the fingertips of her right hand down to the smooth hollow of Anne’s right armpit and lightly pressed the area of skin over the gland. If Anne was sensitive at the back of her neck, she was unbearably ticklish on her underarms. Once again Anne began laughing and screaming, “OHHHHH-G-G-G-O-D-D-D-D, NO-NO-NO-NO-STOP!! YOU BI-I-I-T-T-CH-CH-CH!!” Betty reached over to the other armpit so she could compare how the left one felt against the right.
By this time Betty was beginning to get really pissed at the abuse this lady was giving her. Also, she was surprised to find that she was getting some personal satisfaction from the fact that Anne was tortured by the exam. She lightened her touch and began stroking the inside of both armpits. Anne’s eyes bugged out and her laughter got even louder. Anne screamed again, “OH GOD!! Ha-ha-ha-ha YOU’RE KIIIILLLLING ME! SHE-E-E-I-I-IT-T-T!! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!”
Betty couldn’t help it, she smiled and began to spider her fingers inside of both pits. Anne couldn’t speak at this point. In fact, she was fast approaching the point where she couldn’t make a sound. In a matter of seconds Anne crossed the threshold into silent laughter. Betty was enjoying herself immensely. She leaned close into Anne and crooned “Tickle-tickle-tickle.” After a couple of minutes she decided that Anne had had enough. She was surprised to find that she felt the same kind of sexual charge she felt when she bent over and flashed a patient. What a rush this feeling of power and control was!
Betty went to the bathroom and retrieved a damp washcloth. She wiped Anne’s face and neck and then stood and watched until Anne’s breathing steadied. As she turned to leave Betty thought of a way to cover her actions. She said to Anne, “Well, I wasn’t able to detect any swelling, but if you want a second opinion you could mention this to a doctor. I’m sure any of them would be very happy to check out your pits.” Both women shared the same unspoken thought: “Yeah, right.”
Betty was approaching the door to the room, near the foot of Anne’s bed, when she happened to glance over at the bottom of Anne’s feet. The soles were visible from under the end of the sheet. Something seemed odd... the feet seemed pinker than Anne’s face and neck had been when Betty first entered the room. She walked over to the foot of the bed and pulled the sheet off of Anne’s left foot. She noticed that the top of the foot was a normal color, but the sole was tinged coral pink. She pulled the sheet off the right foot to compare the two, and it was the same. She looked at the patient’s chart at the bottom of the hospital bed. She noticed that a neurological examination had been ordered every two hours for this patient.
Betty looked back at Anne’s feet and noticed their shapeliness and the perfectly formed toes. It was obvious that Anne took care of them. The nails were neatly trimmed and there were no calluses on the smooth soles. Betty thought back to the laughter that had drawn her to investigate Anne’s room in the first place and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Mark must have been tickling them earlier!
“Hmmm” Betty asked aloud, “what could have caused this discoloration on your soles?” She began stroking the bottoms of both feet with her long fingernails. Anne had been staring at her with horror since Betty first approached the bottom of the bed. She didn’t waste her breath begging as Betty began raking her nails down her soles. She went straight to guffaws, “HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA OHHH SH-E-E-I-I-I-ITTT!! HA-HA-HA!!”
Anne laughed like a mad woman when Betty began to rake a single fingernail along the underside of the toes on her right foot, at the same time she scrabbled her fingers in the arch of her left foot. But when Betty began to run her fingers between Anne’s toes, she once again crossed the threshold into silent laughter. The loudest sound she could make was a whispered “Tee-hee-hee-hee” in between gasps for air.
Betty tickled Anne’s soles for five minutes before she decided to give her a break. As she wiped Anne’s face she leaned close and whispered, “I don’t appreciate being called a b*tch.” As she turned to leave Betty spoke in a louder voice, “I’ll be back in two hours to run another test on your feet. I trust I’ll find you in a better mood.”
Anne’s Hospital Stay
Part 2 – Medicare Doesn’t Cover This
When we last left our heroine, Anne, she was in a hospital room with all four of her limbs secured to a traction device. Mark, another patient in the hospital, had just completed a visit in which he pointed out the vulnerability of her bare soles. He left the room only when Anne mentioned that her jealous husband, Jack, was due to visit at any time...
Betty, the nurse assigned to the nurses’ station in the Orthopedic Wing of Saint Agnes’ Hospital was passing by the door to Anne’s room when she heard what she thought was demented laughter coming from within. She started toward the door when a chime sounded from the public address system and announced that the crash-cart was needed for a Code Blue. Betty was a member of the emergency team because she was young and highly skilled, and in excellent physical condition. She was twenty-nine years old, with blonde hair that hung down past her shoulders and bright blue eyes. Although her large (size 38-C) chest got in the way on rare occasions, she was still a favorite of the hospital staff. She had nice legs, which she liked to show off in the short white nurse’s dresses she routinely wore. She got a charge out of the idea that lots of men and even some women got a peek up her dress on a daily basis. She also liked to wear sheer white stockings and sexy little panties she purchased from Victoria’s Secret.
Once the emergency was under control Betty returned to Anne’s room. She was about ten feet from the door when it opened inward. She was momentarily confused when she saw Mark, another one of her patients, hobble out of the room on his crutches. She had been sure that this room belonged to the young lady that was in traction. As Mark left the room he turned right and went down the hall away from the nurse. Betty decided to go on in and check that everything was ok.
The first thing she saw upon entering was that the patient, Anne, appeared to be in distress. She was red-faced and her hair was plastered to her head. Betty went straight up to the head of the bed and put the back of her left hand on Anne’s forehead. She said, “You poor dear, how are you feeling? Are you running a fever?”
Anne was just beginning to recover from Mark’s assault on her soles. She didn’t know who the pretty nurse was, but she was sure she didn’t want to admit to anyone that some pervert had just spent the last half-hour tickling the shit out of her feet. With all four of her limbs stretched out in traction, Anne was much too vulnerable to trust anyone with the knowledge of how ticklish she was. For all she knew, Betty might enjoy the hell out of having an immobile victim available for a little foot tickling.
As she felt Anne’s forehead, Betty was surprised to find that she did not feel especially warm. She wondered if there might be a problem with the lymphatic system. Accordingly, she gently ran her hands along the sides and back of Anne’s neck to check for swelling.
Anne was already hyper-ticklish from Mark’s visit. She barked out a sharp series of laughs as she felt Betty’s hands glide along her neck. “What the f*ck are you doing you perverted b*tch?” Immediately after she spoke, Anne was sorry she said it, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt she’d had all the torture she could endure for one day.
Betty tried to appear cool and professional after her initial shock. “I’m checking your glands for swelling, and there is no cause for abuse, ma’am!” Betty considered using more pressure to feel the area, because that probably would have tickled the patient less, but she was concerned about how hard she could press in this area until it was definite that there was no spinal injury. Besides, Betty thought to herself, this lady was acting like a b*tch, not her.
Betty began to take some satisfaction in the way Anne was twisting her head from side to side in an effort to avoid the light caresses of her examination. Anne began to plead, “Stop-stop-stop-STAAAAPPPP!! Ha-ha-ha-ha 0hhh-SHIIIIITTTTT!!”
The best part of a minute had passed and Betty still didn’t know if there was any swelling, because Anne was incapable of holding still long enough for her to tell. Betty decided that this wasn’t working, and she should just check another area. She brought the fingertips of her right hand down to the smooth hollow of Anne’s right armpit and lightly pressed the area of skin over the gland. If Anne was sensitive at the back of her neck, she was unbearably ticklish on her underarms. Once again Anne began laughing and screaming, “OHHHHH-G-G-G-O-D-D-D-D, NO-NO-NO-NO-STOP!! YOU BI-I-I-T-T-CH-CH-CH!!” Betty reached over to the other armpit so she could compare how the left one felt against the right.
By this time Betty was beginning to get really pissed at the abuse this lady was giving her. Also, she was surprised to find that she was getting some personal satisfaction from the fact that Anne was tortured by the exam. She lightened her touch and began stroking the inside of both armpits. Anne’s eyes bugged out and her laughter got even louder. Anne screamed again, “OH GOD!! Ha-ha-ha-ha YOU’RE KIIIILLLLING ME! SHE-E-E-I-I-IT-T-T!! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!”
Betty couldn’t help it, she smiled and began to spider her fingers inside of both pits. Anne couldn’t speak at this point. In fact, she was fast approaching the point where she couldn’t make a sound. In a matter of seconds Anne crossed the threshold into silent laughter. Betty was enjoying herself immensely. She leaned close into Anne and crooned “Tickle-tickle-tickle.” After a couple of minutes she decided that Anne had had enough. She was surprised to find that she felt the same kind of sexual charge she felt when she bent over and flashed a patient. What a rush this feeling of power and control was!
Betty went to the bathroom and retrieved a damp washcloth. She wiped Anne’s face and neck and then stood and watched until Anne’s breathing steadied. As she turned to leave Betty thought of a way to cover her actions. She said to Anne, “Well, I wasn’t able to detect any swelling, but if you want a second opinion you could mention this to a doctor. I’m sure any of them would be very happy to check out your pits.” Both women shared the same unspoken thought: “Yeah, right.”
Betty was approaching the door to the room, near the foot of Anne’s bed, when she happened to glance over at the bottom of Anne’s feet. The soles were visible from under the end of the sheet. Something seemed odd... the feet seemed pinker than Anne’s face and neck had been when Betty first entered the room. She walked over to the foot of the bed and pulled the sheet off of Anne’s left foot. She noticed that the top of the foot was a normal color, but the sole was tinged coral pink. She pulled the sheet off the right foot to compare the two, and it was the same. She looked at the patient’s chart at the bottom of the hospital bed. She noticed that a neurological examination had been ordered every two hours for this patient.
Betty looked back at Anne’s feet and noticed their shapeliness and the perfectly formed toes. It was obvious that Anne took care of them. The nails were neatly trimmed and there were no calluses on the smooth soles. Betty thought back to the laughter that had drawn her to investigate Anne’s room in the first place and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Mark must have been tickling them earlier!
“Hmmm” Betty asked aloud, “what could have caused this discoloration on your soles?” She began stroking the bottoms of both feet with her long fingernails. Anne had been staring at her with horror since Betty first approached the bottom of the bed. She didn’t waste her breath begging as Betty began raking her nails down her soles. She went straight to guffaws, “HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA OHHH SH-E-E-I-I-I-ITTT!! HA-HA-HA!!”
Anne laughed like a mad woman when Betty began to rake a single fingernail along the underside of the toes on her right foot, at the same time she scrabbled her fingers in the arch of her left foot. But when Betty began to run her fingers between Anne’s toes, she once again crossed the threshold into silent laughter. The loudest sound she could make was a whispered “Tee-hee-hee-hee” in between gasps for air.
Betty tickled Anne’s soles for five minutes before she decided to give her a break. As she wiped Anne’s face she leaned close and whispered, “I don’t appreciate being called a b*tch.” As she turned to leave Betty spoke in a louder voice, “I’ll be back in two hours to run another test on your feet. I trust I’ll find you in a better mood.”
