clean_kitchen
TMF Poster
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- Aug 14, 2002
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A New Respect
by clean_kitchen
Sometimes you see people do something so extraordinary that it changes how you see them. Sometimes it's something they do; sometimes it's something they allow to happen. Whatever the case, I'm never going to look at my mom the same way again.
I suppose I should start from the beginning. My name is Erin. I'm 19 and about to start my second year at the state college. My younger sister Anne (she's 13) and my mom have lived together since my dad and her got divorced.
I never really forgave her for leaving my dad, and I'm sure I said some really awful things. I thought she didn't really love me and just tolerated me until I could get out of the house. I was wrong.
One night all of us were at home not talking to each other. Anne was clearing the dishes and I was watching TV. Mom was doing something, but I don't know what--probably laundry.
I heard Anne drop a dish and I called her clumsy or something like that. I freaked out, though, when I turned and saw a man and a woman in ski masks come rushing out of the kitchen towards me. The woman was dragging Anne by the arms and the man quickly overpowered me. I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth. It was like a nightmare!
They took us up the stairs to the room my sister and me shared. They used some belts and scarves they found to tie us stretched out on our beds. It was summer, so both of us were wearing shorts and a tank top and no shoes. They used handkerchiefs to gag us.
I was so scared. I was scared for me and I was scared for my little sister. I would have cried if I hadn't been so terrified. And where was my mom? I figured she head the commotion and took off, leaving me and Anne to whatever these weirdoes had in mind. The woman spoke.
"OK, ladies; let's make this quick. We've been doing our homework and we know your mom keeps a great deal of cash here in the house. We just need to know where it is."
"And just in case you're thinking about being brave," added the man, "here is what will happen if you don't tell us."
He nodded to the woman, who was standing at the foot of my bed. Without another word, she began to tickle by bare feet. Seriously--why would I make that up? She just reached down and started to scribble her nails all up and down my feet.
If you're ticklish, you'll understand that I absolutely lost my mind. I have no idea how long she did it; all I could think about were her fingers and my feet. I laughed and screamed so hard I thought I would burst! I was just aware enough to hear my sister's muffled screams. Apparently she was getting the same treatment from the man.
After what seemed like an hour the woman stopped tickling me. All I could do was giggle and try to catch my breath. I soon realized that my sister was still laughing. I lifted my head to see the man still scratching up and down her little feet. She was bucking and shaking her head, lost in the tickling.
"Stop it!" I tried to yell, but it came out more of a muffled grunt.
I think the man understood what I was trying to say, though because he stopped tickling my sister and motioned to the woman.
"Oh," he mocked, "do you want us to leave your little sister alone? I guess we'll just pick on someone our own size."
That wasn't what I meant. I tried to beg and plead through my gag as the woman climbed on the bad and knelt between my legs. I panicked, knowing she was going to tickle me again.
I about lost my mind as she started gliding her fingers up and down my bare thighs--up the outsides, down the fronts, up the insides and back again. No one had ever tickled me there before, and it was terrible.
After a couple minutes she stopped. I barely caught my breath before she straddled my hips and started dancing her fingers across my belly and up and down my sides. I completely lost it. I writhed and bucked and tried to get away from her fingers, but she just kept tickling and tickling. When her nails found my armpits I thought I was going to die!
I have no idea how long she tickled me, but let me tell you it was long enough. I was absolutely exhausted. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to.
The man then talked over to the side of my bed. I started freaking out. I couldn't take any more tickling.
He reached down, but instead of tickling me he removed my gag. He put his finger to his mouth and motioned to the woman still straddling my hips fingers flexing, warning me to remain silent. Anything to avoid getting tickled.
"Now," began the man, calmly. "We can talk about where your mom keeps the money, or we can really have some laughs."
I didn't even have to think about it. A glance over at my little sister, tired and almost in tears sealed the deal. I though I would die if they tickled me again.
"There's a key ... in my locket ... that opens a safe in my mom's bedroom," I half panted, nodding my head down to my necklace. "The money's in there..."
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" said the man, reaching for my necklace. "You better hope you're not lying, though, or both of you are going to get it good."
"Girls?"
The man turned his attention from my locket to the doorway, quickly returning the gag to my mouth. My mom appeared in the entryway with a basket full of clothes. She hadn't left! She must have been downstairs in the laundry room and hadn't heard the intruders enter the house. It had been a long time since I was that happy to see her.
My relief quickly turned to desperation as I "Mmmmmmph-ed" as loud as I could for her to go and get help. If they got to her, then who knew what these creeps would do.
She dropped the basked and took off back down the stairs. The man and the woman took off after her. We heard the sound of footsteps running through the house, and furniture getting knocked over.
Then it got quiet. I held my breath, wondering if my mom had been captured--or worse--and what would happen when the intruders returned from the interruption. I could feel those fingers on my body, and I felt exposed. I knew they would tickle me again when they came back.
Footsteps. I gasped as my mom suddenly ran into the room. She quickly untied my sister and I. Anne cried and tried to hug my mom, but my mom pushed her away.
"No time," she whispered, "they're still in the house. I just lost them in the basement. You two get out of here. You'll be safe and if they don't have your locket they can't get the money. Now go!"
I was too dazed to argue. I grabbed my sister and we ran out into the hall. We started for the stairs but heard the angry voices of the intruders hurrying through the living room.
"Key or not, those girls are about to get the tickling of their lives," the man threatened. What a freak.
My sister and I ran the other way down the hall and into my mom's bedroom. We tried the window, but it wouldn't budge. We were out of options. There was no way out and the voices were getting closer.
... to be continued ...
by clean_kitchen
Sometimes you see people do something so extraordinary that it changes how you see them. Sometimes it's something they do; sometimes it's something they allow to happen. Whatever the case, I'm never going to look at my mom the same way again.
I suppose I should start from the beginning. My name is Erin. I'm 19 and about to start my second year at the state college. My younger sister Anne (she's 13) and my mom have lived together since my dad and her got divorced.
I never really forgave her for leaving my dad, and I'm sure I said some really awful things. I thought she didn't really love me and just tolerated me until I could get out of the house. I was wrong.
One night all of us were at home not talking to each other. Anne was clearing the dishes and I was watching TV. Mom was doing something, but I don't know what--probably laundry.
I heard Anne drop a dish and I called her clumsy or something like that. I freaked out, though, when I turned and saw a man and a woman in ski masks come rushing out of the kitchen towards me. The woman was dragging Anne by the arms and the man quickly overpowered me. I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth. It was like a nightmare!
They took us up the stairs to the room my sister and me shared. They used some belts and scarves they found to tie us stretched out on our beds. It was summer, so both of us were wearing shorts and a tank top and no shoes. They used handkerchiefs to gag us.
I was so scared. I was scared for me and I was scared for my little sister. I would have cried if I hadn't been so terrified. And where was my mom? I figured she head the commotion and took off, leaving me and Anne to whatever these weirdoes had in mind. The woman spoke.
"OK, ladies; let's make this quick. We've been doing our homework and we know your mom keeps a great deal of cash here in the house. We just need to know where it is."
"And just in case you're thinking about being brave," added the man, "here is what will happen if you don't tell us."
He nodded to the woman, who was standing at the foot of my bed. Without another word, she began to tickle by bare feet. Seriously--why would I make that up? She just reached down and started to scribble her nails all up and down my feet.
If you're ticklish, you'll understand that I absolutely lost my mind. I have no idea how long she did it; all I could think about were her fingers and my feet. I laughed and screamed so hard I thought I would burst! I was just aware enough to hear my sister's muffled screams. Apparently she was getting the same treatment from the man.
After what seemed like an hour the woman stopped tickling me. All I could do was giggle and try to catch my breath. I soon realized that my sister was still laughing. I lifted my head to see the man still scratching up and down her little feet. She was bucking and shaking her head, lost in the tickling.
"Stop it!" I tried to yell, but it came out more of a muffled grunt.
I think the man understood what I was trying to say, though because he stopped tickling my sister and motioned to the woman.
"Oh," he mocked, "do you want us to leave your little sister alone? I guess we'll just pick on someone our own size."
That wasn't what I meant. I tried to beg and plead through my gag as the woman climbed on the bad and knelt between my legs. I panicked, knowing she was going to tickle me again.
I about lost my mind as she started gliding her fingers up and down my bare thighs--up the outsides, down the fronts, up the insides and back again. No one had ever tickled me there before, and it was terrible.
After a couple minutes she stopped. I barely caught my breath before she straddled my hips and started dancing her fingers across my belly and up and down my sides. I completely lost it. I writhed and bucked and tried to get away from her fingers, but she just kept tickling and tickling. When her nails found my armpits I thought I was going to die!
I have no idea how long she tickled me, but let me tell you it was long enough. I was absolutely exhausted. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to.
The man then talked over to the side of my bed. I started freaking out. I couldn't take any more tickling.
He reached down, but instead of tickling me he removed my gag. He put his finger to his mouth and motioned to the woman still straddling my hips fingers flexing, warning me to remain silent. Anything to avoid getting tickled.
"Now," began the man, calmly. "We can talk about where your mom keeps the money, or we can really have some laughs."
I didn't even have to think about it. A glance over at my little sister, tired and almost in tears sealed the deal. I though I would die if they tickled me again.
"There's a key ... in my locket ... that opens a safe in my mom's bedroom," I half panted, nodding my head down to my necklace. "The money's in there..."
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" said the man, reaching for my necklace. "You better hope you're not lying, though, or both of you are going to get it good."
"Girls?"
The man turned his attention from my locket to the doorway, quickly returning the gag to my mouth. My mom appeared in the entryway with a basket full of clothes. She hadn't left! She must have been downstairs in the laundry room and hadn't heard the intruders enter the house. It had been a long time since I was that happy to see her.
My relief quickly turned to desperation as I "Mmmmmmph-ed" as loud as I could for her to go and get help. If they got to her, then who knew what these creeps would do.
She dropped the basked and took off back down the stairs. The man and the woman took off after her. We heard the sound of footsteps running through the house, and furniture getting knocked over.
Then it got quiet. I held my breath, wondering if my mom had been captured--or worse--and what would happen when the intruders returned from the interruption. I could feel those fingers on my body, and I felt exposed. I knew they would tickle me again when they came back.
Footsteps. I gasped as my mom suddenly ran into the room. She quickly untied my sister and I. Anne cried and tried to hug my mom, but my mom pushed her away.
"No time," she whispered, "they're still in the house. I just lost them in the basement. You two get out of here. You'll be safe and if they don't have your locket they can't get the money. Now go!"
I was too dazed to argue. I grabbed my sister and we ran out into the hall. We started for the stairs but heard the angry voices of the intruders hurrying through the living room.
"Key or not, those girls are about to get the tickling of their lives," the man threatened. What a freak.
My sister and I ran the other way down the hall and into my mom's bedroom. We tried the window, but it wouldn't budge. We were out of options. There was no way out and the voices were getting closer.
... to be continued ...
