THE AGENCY PART 2THE AGENCY PART 2
"MRS. QUIGLEY'S OLD MAN"
I sped all the way home that morning /afternoon (11:52am) with one purpose in mind…relief. Having just experienced the most bizarre
(and most erotic) first day of work I could've dreamt of…I felt like I was going to literally explode! I was so wound up I almost caused 2
accidents and nearly had a panic attack fumbling with my keys trying desperately to get in my house. I was not entirely myself. Once in
the house I dashed right into the bathroom, running over the cat, disrobing along the way. It was the quickest and cleanest place to
"let off some steam" I could think of…the shower.
With that done I showered and wandered the house in a daze as the cat followed me from room to room. I mumbled to myself profanities I'd
thought I'd forgotten because I knew deep down inside the new joy that I had found in my boss, Special Agent Rita Johnson, would be
fleeting.
Torn between the elation of falling in love with her perfect size 8 1/2s and the angst of knowing fraternization was frowned upon by the
highest of the high in the agency. Some part of me knew it was too good to be true.
Falling into a funk, I flopped on the couch in my sweats and dozed off. Though I slept for only an hour and forty-five minutes I dreamt
like a mother f**ker. I dreamt that Rita had followed me home and shewas trying to fire me but I kept chasing her around the house (which
turned into the office) and tickling her. Each time I touched her an article of clothing would disappear. Finally the dream ended when
someguy showed up with a gun claiming to be her husband…just when I'd gotten her shoes off. I was relieved to wake from that dream as it
sort of left me right back where I was before my nap, excited and terrified. I surfed the Internet…it bored me.
At about 7:30pm I finally began feeling normal again after eating 2 frozen dinners and drowning in a 20liter bottle of orange soda pop.
As I got in my car I reminded myself I was not returning to work as Will Goodwin the clerk, hell no, I was officially Jr. Special Agent
Goodwin…a.k.a. "Butterfingers". I had a job to do, a mission, and as a point of personal pride and modest patriotism I would get past the
any frustrations in my personal life and fulfill my dream as an agent. I drove back to work smiling in the setting sun and quietly swelling
with pride…at least my first day would be one to remember! At that time I had no idea just how far this adventure would carry me, and in
retrospect I wouldn't have ever believe it if you'd told me.
Three security booths and several ID card scanners later I was back on the 31st floor. The joint was empty. I was told some agents worked really weird hours…it was safe to assume I was going to be one of them. As I found my way to Rita's office a rather awkward nervousness
crept upon me. I would have to face this woman whom was my new boss,and only hours after lavishing her gorgeous bare feet with my kinky
tickling intentions. How would she act? And what in the hell were we doing there at 8 o'clock at night?
The answer was taped to her closed office door. It was a manila envelope containing a map, another ID badge, another form to apply
for a sidearm (filled out with my information and pre-signed) and a handwritten note saying,
"Good evening B! Welcome to your first interrogation. Meet me in studio "A" on 35…it's on the map dummy."
"P.S. I hope you went home and 'took care of business'. From here on out what goes on between you and me is purely professional…in
other words…what happened this morning in my office…NEVER HAPPENED. Capiche? Now get your buns up here we have work to do!"
Reading those words I felt a lot of tension thankfully slip away though to some small degree they also sent my heart sinking, it was
too good to be true. The dreaming was over.
I stepped out of the elevator to find myself in an impressive lobby wherein the Agency emblem adorned oak paneled walls of the curved corridor, which gave me the sense that I was standing in some giant turret. Along the walls were portraits of directors and top officials of the present and past. Their visages loomed over respectable
looking leather couches and chairs. The carpeting was a thick navy blue ocean that seemed to suck all sounds right out of the air.
Having used my second ID card in the elevator to get me to the 35th floor I assumed it would also get me the through the massive double
doors to my left. I approached them and immediately heard the whirl and hum of electric motors in the surveillance cameras hidden within
mirrored domes that protruded form the ceiling. Waving my ID card in front of the sensor on the adjacent wall I waited a few seconds and
then tried the door, which didn't even budge in the slightest way. Just as I was about to knock on the door a voice came over a PA speaker next to the sensor.
"State your business." Droned a male voice in an official tone.
"Jr. Special Agent Goodwin…from domestic interrogations." I blurted out with all the authority of a gnat.
(Squelch) "Who?!"
"I said, Special Agent Goodwin from domestic…"
(Bzzrt)"No you didn't, you said Junior Special Agent! What do want man?" The speaker interrupted me. I noted that the formality had disappeared from his tone.
I felt the heat of mild frustration coming on, as I am not one that enjoys repeating himself. " I'm J-u-n-i-o-r Special Agent Goodwin. I'm here to meet Special Agent Rita Johnson in studio A?"
(Crackle)"Hah ha ha ha, studio A!? Oh man that's rich! Man this 'aint no NBC…studio A." He was obviously messing with me, which really
pissed me off because he was making me late. "Really man, what do you want?"
Exasperated, I cupped my hands over the speaker and began, "MY NAME IS…" Bzzzzzt, went the door lock. I straightened myself up and passed through the heavy black door wondering if I out ranked this security guard because I wanted to give a piece of my mind! No sooner than I entered a brightly lit curved corridor did I see Rita sitting on the security guard's desk…laughing and pointing. "Psych! Ah ha ha look at the rookie. Look his ears are tuning red!" Which was true, I was so flustered I felt like a freshman in high school all over again.
The security guard was chuckling and trying to apologize through his laughter, " I'm sorry man…Rita made me do it!"
"Come on B, follow me we've got work to do!" Rita cried out like a carnival barker. I got the distinct feeling I was going to be the
butt of many more jokes in times to come.
She led me another 20 yards down the hushed corridor to a black steel door that bore an enormous white letter A. Rita stopped performing an about-face, that's when it dawned on me that she wasn't wearing the shoes that she'd been wearing earlier that day. Rita had on a pair of
open toed tan house slippers, how it escaped my attention before I don't know but I tried not to notice too much.
"All right, all jokes aside it's time for us to earn our money B. Today we are interrogating a Mrs. Marla Quigley from Bismarck, North
Dakota…. Why are we doing that Agent Johnson?" She ended with a goofy face and tone to match.
"Good question B! We're trying to find out where her slime bucket of a husband is operating his smuggling ring from…" Rita answered
herself.
She started again with the mocking tone pretending to be me before I could ask a question for myself, "Well gee Rita why don't we just
seize his assets and apprehend him, duh?"
"Oh tisk-tisk Jr. Agent, that was a dumb question! We would do that if we knew where he was…we THINK he is somewhere in Central America.
We BELIVE the good Mrs. Quigley knows where he is or at least has been because she has been sending him cash and money grams. Every time the
same amount, and every time a different location typically one thousand miles away from the last."
"Duh, but where does she get the money from?"
"Ah! Excellent question Butterfingers, the Quigleys run a small time church wherein they swindle poor old ladies out every penny that have
so that The Right Reverend Quigley can go his 'missions' to save the poor souls of third world countries!"
Rita stood there smiling and then winked at me, "Pretty slick huh?"
I started to open my mouth, but she shushed me holding up her index finger to her lips. She then opened the door. I followed her into a
dimly lit room that had black curtains covering curved walls. It did indeed look like a small TV studio, with a few exceptions. The first being the giant two-way mirror, which I assumed was the window of some observation room complete with theater style seating. The other major
difference would be the black monolith lying prone in the center of the room lit by a single incandescent light fixture above.
Rita quickly ushered me through a second door that was at the far end of the two-way mirror…where there was, indeed, three rows of
theater style seats. What stuck me as odd were the two TV monitors that whined but showed no picture. Once Rita had closed the door I seized the
opportunity to breach the silence.
"Okay so what's with giant coffin in the middle of the room?" I asked with unabashed curiosity.
"Good question…that my young friend is Mrs. Quigley. Of course not the table itself, but the subject secured to the table under the black
tarp. It's a sensory depravation thing…you wouldn't understand." Rita smiled stepping up to the second row of seats and plopping down. "Not to worry," she said. "Mrs. Quigley is quite comfortably situated on the table. She's been mildly sedated and should be coming around very
soon."
"Tonight you will observe, I'll do all the dirty work," she cooed as she kicked off her slippers into the seat in front of her and propped
those gorgeous bare feet upon the its seat back. She beamed a big shit-eating grin and said, "Remember what you did to me this morning?
That's what I'm about to do to her if she doesn't 'fess-up'…only not quite with your unorthodox and um …unbridled passion." All the while Rita was wriggling and curling her shapely toes. Once again, I was mesmerized by her sheer simple but radiant beauty and tantalizing display of femininity before me. It was something about the way her she wrinkled her ample but delicate bare soles as if they were slowly being teased into some playful submission…I was gawking again.
"No way buddy boy, lightening only strikes once around here, got it?"
I swallowed hard and felt my nuts wake up while my face went flush, "I am a professional Agent Johnson, I have a job to do and a career to
attend to…I'm a big boy."
She laughed out loud, "Nicely put B! But you are so full of it…that's okay though you're hungry and motivated all you need now is some
experience and style. Take a seat."
I sat in the first row of seats; two seats away from my most recently love ravaged objects of my affection and painfully starred straight
ahead. "So lemme get this straight, we trying to get her to tell us exactly where her husband is or was and she's playing dumb little
preacher's wife?"
"Oh you catch on quick B, hey look at me when you're talking to me okay…I am your boss… remember that."
I turned quickly trying not to even glance at her pretty pink peds but it was no use. As soon as I shifted my body towards her she shifted
her legs so that the wrinkly sole of her right foot was practically in my face…she was toying with me. I told myself this was some kind
of test.
With an evil sort of grin I failed to notice before she splayed her toes and then slowly curled them in the same manner as when I was
tickling, teasing, and nibbling that oh so sensitive foot bottom! She put aside the paper work she had been holding in her lap and closed
her eyes saying, "Okay mister, I'm closing my eyes for ten seconds and you do whatever it is you need to do to get over this…"
No sooner did she finish that sentence I cupped the heated smooth and pulsing tanned foot top and firmly pressed my greedy mouth against
the rippling wrinkled creamy middle of her right bare foot. I gently gazed my teeth against the ticklish skin and she gasped gripping the
armrests. I flicked my tongue all wishy-washy over the still peach scented arch and she snorted and blurted out a tortured cackle.
Meanwhile my other hand was lightly tickling her left foot in one short burst from her round fat heel up her slightly sweaty sole to
her wavering toes. She pulled her bare feet away quickly put her hands over her mouth trying to suppress laughter through squinted eyes. For
second she took on a very youthful and vulnerable glow.
"Eehheheheheheheh heee hee, oh jeez if you ever do that again, I swear to God I'm going to fuck your brains out and fire you!" She giggled
trying to regain her composure, "Oh turn around for Christ sakes and wipe that stupid grin off your face…of course I like being tickled you idiot! Especially on my feet…so what, you watch how a real professional does it you pervert and you might learn something!"
With that she sprang from her seat and padded barefoot through the door into the interrogation room, suddenly I felt bad for poor Mrs.
Quigley.
For a minute I sat there grinning to myself and trying repress the base urges that just welled up in my body and mind, I felt some sort
of small victory in at least getting that unexpected confession and admonishment from Rita.
My warm and fuzzy feeling was interrupted when Agent Johnson popped her head back into the room saying, "Hey, throw me my slippers! And look over that file in the red folder, it's her profile information."
Obeying the orders with a stone faced new confidence I scooped up the house shoes and tossed them towards the half open door. Rita didn't
catch them she simply stepped into them where they landed and closed the door. I sat back with the red folder that was on top of all the
other documents in my lap intently watching Rita approach the table in the center of the room. She looked my way and then pointed to her
watch and then held up two fingers, I assumed this meant 2 minutes until we started. Opened the folder to reveal a picture of a mildly
attractive woman her stats went like this:
Subject: Quigley, Marla M. Mrs.
Age: 38
DOB: 08/25/63
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 175lbs.
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue
Home of Record: 35750 Piquette Lane Bismarck, ND, USA
Affiliations: New Faith Nondenominational Temple
Occupation: Church administrator / House wife
Relatives: None
Children: None
Looking at the picture… she was no supermodel, nor was she homely. Her shoulder length dark hair was sort of feathered back in a 70's kind
of way. She was standing in front a small white wood paneled building wearing a white sweatshirt embroidered with a teddy bear and a red
heart. She sported newer looking blue jeans and from what I could tell blue leather clogs with the wooden sole with white socks.
Mrs. Quigley had a serene but oddly comical smile as if something really funny had just happened or was about to happen. All in all she
looked rather pure, even boring and incapable of evil on the whole. A real honest farm girl blessed with a natural beauty, the original
sweetheart.
Perusing the file I found only one odd thing, several tickets for disturbing the peace, noise complaints from neighbors. It struck me
as funny…someone calling the cops on a church because they were too loud in their praises.
It was about then that the TV screens flickered to life and the light above the table increased it's glow to point where I could make out
the folds and creases in the black tarp.
Rita looked up gave me the okay hand signal and proceeded to turn the table on some unseen pivot point so that I was no longer looking at
its full length, rather the end she was standing at was moved towards the observation room. When she was done she bent down and reached
under the tarp with one hand and yanked on something until I saw an armature wing out from underneath the table with what seemed to be a
thick black pad. After a second I realized it was some sort of adjustable seat and Rita flipped the seat back up from the on top the seat itself.
I was so impressed with the massive hardware before me that I was startled when I finally noticed a face under very dim lighting
looking directly at me on one of the screens. At first I was confused, very confused, then I recognized the face… it was Mrs. Quigley. She
looked only half awake but far more beautiful than her picture, she slowly moved her head from side to side blinking and squinting.
Rita sat down on the seat and cracked her knuckles smiling a devilish smirk in my direction.
"Mrs. Quiiiiigley," Rita sang out in a vaguely country accent, "It's time to wake up Mrs. Quigley."
The woman under the tarp moaned groggily. "Uhhh-nnnn?"
"Wake up Marla…Marla are you there?" Rita asked lifting up the ebony tarp in front of her like tent flaps revealing a pair of what were
easily size 11 feet wearing some sort of black kidskin slippers. What little I could see of the ankles disappeared into the inky blackness
of the table abruptly.
I looked up at the screen with poor Mrs. Quigley's face on it and she looked a bit confused and concerned as she slightly strained to see
where she was and she definitely was not aware of the camera spying on her.
"Wuh wuh where am ah?" She softly asked in an adorable southwestern drawl.
"Why…you're at the salon, Mrs. Quigley…where else would you be? You fell asleep on us…don't worry it happens all the time during these treatments. Perhaps you had too much Valerian root tea hmmm?" Rita said this looking at e and winking.
"Why is it so dark in here? How come ah can't move mu'h arms and legs?" Mrs. Quigley asked looking mildly concerned.
"Are you comfortable Mrs. Quigley? You're in what we call our beauty cocoon and when you come out of it you'll be beautifully transformed
from head to toe." Rita smiled waving her hands theatrically. I wanted to crack up and fall on the floor but I was far too anxious for the
show to start.
"Well, ah guess ah'm comfortable. How long was ah asleep?" Mrs. Quigley inquired sheepishly.
"Oh not long, I'm sure. Just relax…so I understand you're from Bismarck. I heard all about this wonderful little church out there
run by the most inspirational man of the cloth I have ever seen! I was wondering have you ever heard of a church called the New Faith
Temple?" Rita asked nonchalantly.
"Well, yes that's my…ah mean our church." Marla answered in voice that perked up as eyes opened fully while she smiled. "My husband is the
pastor! Have you been there recently…have we met before?"
"Not formally…see now I just KNEW you looked familiar somehow…my name Jenny Lynn Danvers. So that's your husband?! My goodness what a
coincidence! And how is the good reverend doing these days?" Rita asked eyeing the slipper-clad soles before her.
"Oh he's fahn…he's away on another mission so ah've been kinda lonely but I don't feel bad he's out there doing his good work. And ah guess
that's more important than lil 'ol me…ah do have the rest of the flock to look after and all…" Marla conceded.
"On another mission? Wow that sounds exciting! Where is he now, someplace exotic? Gosh that must such a thrill, and you must be sooo
proud!" Rita grinned mockingly.
"Oh he's always goes someplace exotic, but I'm not always real sure where he ends up…"Mrs. Quigley started.
"Oh honey don't tell me don't KNOW where your husband is?! You don't communicate while he's away? I would just go insane not knowing if he
was alive or dead, that must be terrible."
"Oh heavens no darlin'! Ah mean, ah have to send him money all the time and he sends me little post cards and love letters...it's not like ah never know where he is…ah know where he's at right now,
but I'm not supposed go around tellin' everybody in creation. He says the government is always after him trying to use him as a spy because he
mixes in with the foreigners so good. Tell the truth, ah never did believe him until about a month ago…this real bossy government lady come'round askin' my husbands whereabouts. And told her ah didn't know because he had been gone so long." Marla boasted.
Rita feigned indigence, "Well…the nerve! They came to your house?
Unbelievable!"
"Ah know, well anyway ah didn't betray my beloved. And don't you know the very next week the good lord rewarded me with this weekend get
away package?! What a miracle, ah have never won a single thing in my en-tire lah'f until now. Let me tell you darlin' it has been nothin'
but pure heaven! Expensive gourmet meals, a beautiful hotel suite,and a day at the spa!" Mrs. Quigley was now completely relaxed and
chatty…if only she knew Rita was poised to strike.
"Well good for you honey, you deserve it! What was your favorite part so far?" Rita asked innocently.
"So far? Hmmm…ah would have to say the massage…and then the manicure and pedicure…oh that was nah'c, but the lady that was do it almost drove nuts…it was tigglin mah feet so bad," Marla giggled.
"Oh honey, I'm so sorry that was me," Rita exclaimed. "There's just much of those feet your to work with…you're a tall country girl
with big 'ol paws…but they're soft as baby's butt by now."
"Oh ah know ah know, My husband is forever teasing me about mah big feet…and he's only one that ever touches them and it's been a while since…I guess that's why it tiggled so much." She laughed and for the first time flexed her feet and curled her toes. The slippers didn't even cover her heels completely revealing the cleavage of her long
toes. With her toes curled I could see the creamy pale wrinkled instep of one foot and the pink rippled side of the other.
Marla closed her eyes and said, "Ah know ah have big feet an all but…these slippers and kinda tight…and they're making mah feet hot."
With that she attempted to use big toe of her left foot to remove the slipper from the heel of her right foot, but they were locked in
place just far apart enough to make it impossible. Frustration grew on her face and then she said calmly, "Hun could you uh help me out here ah
can't seem to move much in this cocoon thingy…"
"Oh you poor baby. Let's get these off and just see how those pretty piggies turned out." Rita said damn near licking her chops.
Marla's feet slowly flexed and curled while Rita took both heels in her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze, Marla smiled slightly with
eyes closed. Rita traced the edge of the slippers where they hugged heels and then began picking at the edge of the slipper with light staccato strokes; Marla's eyes opened slightly and her smile grew.
"Well pardon my French but damn girl these are on tight! How did they get these on you? Now let me see…"Rita exclaimed, while she watched Mrs. Quigley's feet quicken the pace with which they seemed to wave at her. "Oh I see! Right in there…hold that! Curl your toes again."
Rita barked.
Marla left one foot flexed while the other remained curled and Rita took both of her index fingers and lightly stroked the exposed instep
and outer edge of Marla's left foot. On screen Marla wore a toothy grin but made no noise until both index fingers were wiggling their
way into the gaps that's when she gasped and bit her bottom lip. Rita wiggled her fingers around inside the slipper.
"Hold on girl, I almost got it…just gotta get it off this heel…wow your feet are soft, really soft!"
From what I could see Rita was outright methodically tickling the middle of Mrs. Quigley's heel with both fingers digging into the
flesh. And then the heel of the slipper popped off leaving the slightly reddened and wrinkled surface exposed. Marla swallowed the laughter she'd almost let go. On screen I could see Marla was visibly
relieved but still giggling silently. The rest of the slipper barely encased the ball of her foot and toes, leaving wide open the milky
white fleshy middle of her wide foot. Her foot flexed and then tried to shed the rest of the slipper by wriggling the toes erratically, it
only bounced against the wrinkly arch causing her toes to curl down hard from the unexpected sensation.
"There isn't that better? Okay let's get this other one." Rita
announced.
Marla's right foot was still flexed…until Rita ran her nails over the bare top of that foot where she pretended to try to peel the slipper
away from the tops of the curled toes first. Mostly she just teased the tender toe cleavage trying to gauge just how ticklish her query
was. On screen Marla's lips were pressed together in a tortured grimace as she shook her head from one side to the other.
"Mrs. Quigley, are you okay in there? You're awfully quiet…I'm trying not to hurt you." Rita said flashing a smile my way giving her victim
a brief respite.
"Ah'm…fine…how much longer do ah have to be in here?" She asked still grimacing and relaxing both feet.
"Oh not long, about another hour or so…otherwise the treatment will be a waste, that skin balm has to stay on for at least an hour and half.
I know, you're feet are hot I'll get these things off. Honestly…how could anybody expect these size 10 tens to fit on you comfortably?"
Rita mused and set about her task again this time lightly tickling the exposed instep and quickly digging four fingers into the gap.
Marla's left foot went mad wiggling and writhing until her the two smallest toes popped out. Her foot reared back with toes curled trying to avoid the loosened heel of the slipper that kept tapping sliding against the middle of her sensitive foot bottom. She was smiling, mouth wide open on the verge of a guffaw. Meanwhile Rita had finally
peeled away the heel of the slipper, which like its companion curled inwardly to rest against the center of that big bare sole. Marla's face went calm as she sighed in relief and let her feet hang free and relaxed.
"There now that's better isn't it?" Rita said cheerfully.
Even with her feet relaxed her soles where plump and eternally wrinkled in every direction. Her arches were neither terribly high nor flat and boasted skin so pale that the veins were easily visible. The heels were flushed pink, long and curvy, and from what I could see the balls of feet were wide but very plump and shapely. Rita took hold of both bare soles and began massaging them using her thumbs first and then caressing with her palms.
"Oh poor baby, let's free those precious tootsies for you…"
Beneath the tarp Marla slowly smiled and mouthed the word "yes" as she playfully wiggled her toes back and forth.
Rita started at the heels and lightly grazed the length of each foot with her nails causing Marla's soles to flex in what appeared to be a sort of tortured ecstasy until Rita's nails wiggled their way up in between the slippers and the balls of the feet. Marla began audibly giggling as Rita's fingernails were touching the pads of her toes,
which started wriggling.
"Ooooo hooo hoo hoo that tiggles…he he he he…oh my goodness," Mrs. Quigley finally admitted as the slippers finally cleared her wiggling
feet…no doubt thinking it was over. At that point she sighed again and smiled pleasantly still giggling while her big beautiful bare feet
rotated on the ankles a newly freed toes wriggled and spread.
"Well I have done an excellent job, if I don't say so myself! My what pretty feet you have Mrs. Quigley…oh and look at those looooong
toes…"
Rita exclaimed holding the captured foot tops while caressing the balls of the feet with her thumbs. Marla spread her toes apart and
sighed out loud.
"Oh these toes look good enough to eat…and they smell like strawberries." Rita said lightly caressing the bottoms of the splayed
toes. She threw me a look that mocked my own actions from earlier that day.
"Thank you (giggle) but please don't eat my toes! I have to save them for my husband…he likes to playin' with mah feet. Oh I thought they were tigglish before…he he he ah could hardly stand havin' those slippers taken off…" Marla blurted and wriggled her toes.
"Hmm…where'd you say he was again?" Rita asked casually holding
Mrs. Quigley's right foot with one hand while caressing the ball of the
foot with her other palm.
"Oh now you know ah can't say…it's a secret remember silly?"
"Hey, now I though we were friends…and friends don't keep secrets from each other…I mean he's my reverend too you know. Oh darn it! Sloppy me! How did I manage to get red toenail polish on the bottom of your foot? And there on your big toe too…hang on. Oh where is that nail polish remover…oh never mind…I'll just…" And with that
Rita began lightly scratching at the top of the ball of Marla's foot with her long fingernail. Instantaneously Marla's left foot bottom reared back again with toes half-curled and visibly trembling, she let out a giggle. Then Rita began teasing the soft cleft on the bottom of the big toe until it curled down seeking refuge, but to no avail there was no where to hide.
"Eeeeee he heee heeee... oh stop that. Hahahahahahahahahahah…eee
hehehehe…don't you tiggle my toes..."
"Oh you big baby…you know…I bet if really wanted to I could make you give up your big secret…" Rita said sweeping a single fingernail across the wide fleshy wrinkling ball of M
"MRS. QUIGLEY'S OLD MAN"
I sped all the way home that morning /afternoon (11:52am) with one purpose in mind…relief. Having just experienced the most bizarre
(and most erotic) first day of work I could've dreamt of…I felt like I was going to literally explode! I was so wound up I almost caused 2
accidents and nearly had a panic attack fumbling with my keys trying desperately to get in my house. I was not entirely myself. Once in
the house I dashed right into the bathroom, running over the cat, disrobing along the way. It was the quickest and cleanest place to
"let off some steam" I could think of…the shower.
With that done I showered and wandered the house in a daze as the cat followed me from room to room. I mumbled to myself profanities I'd
thought I'd forgotten because I knew deep down inside the new joy that I had found in my boss, Special Agent Rita Johnson, would be
fleeting.
Torn between the elation of falling in love with her perfect size 8 1/2s and the angst of knowing fraternization was frowned upon by the
highest of the high in the agency. Some part of me knew it was too good to be true.
Falling into a funk, I flopped on the couch in my sweats and dozed off. Though I slept for only an hour and forty-five minutes I dreamt
like a mother f**ker. I dreamt that Rita had followed me home and shewas trying to fire me but I kept chasing her around the house (which
turned into the office) and tickling her. Each time I touched her an article of clothing would disappear. Finally the dream ended when
someguy showed up with a gun claiming to be her husband…just when I'd gotten her shoes off. I was relieved to wake from that dream as it
sort of left me right back where I was before my nap, excited and terrified. I surfed the Internet…it bored me.
At about 7:30pm I finally began feeling normal again after eating 2 frozen dinners and drowning in a 20liter bottle of orange soda pop.
As I got in my car I reminded myself I was not returning to work as Will Goodwin the clerk, hell no, I was officially Jr. Special Agent
Goodwin…a.k.a. "Butterfingers". I had a job to do, a mission, and as a point of personal pride and modest patriotism I would get past the
any frustrations in my personal life and fulfill my dream as an agent. I drove back to work smiling in the setting sun and quietly swelling
with pride…at least my first day would be one to remember! At that time I had no idea just how far this adventure would carry me, and in
retrospect I wouldn't have ever believe it if you'd told me.
Three security booths and several ID card scanners later I was back on the 31st floor. The joint was empty. I was told some agents worked really weird hours…it was safe to assume I was going to be one of them. As I found my way to Rita's office a rather awkward nervousness
crept upon me. I would have to face this woman whom was my new boss,and only hours after lavishing her gorgeous bare feet with my kinky
tickling intentions. How would she act? And what in the hell were we doing there at 8 o'clock at night?
The answer was taped to her closed office door. It was a manila envelope containing a map, another ID badge, another form to apply
for a sidearm (filled out with my information and pre-signed) and a handwritten note saying,
"Good evening B! Welcome to your first interrogation. Meet me in studio "A" on 35…it's on the map dummy."
"P.S. I hope you went home and 'took care of business'. From here on out what goes on between you and me is purely professional…in
other words…what happened this morning in my office…NEVER HAPPENED. Capiche? Now get your buns up here we have work to do!"
Reading those words I felt a lot of tension thankfully slip away though to some small degree they also sent my heart sinking, it was
too good to be true. The dreaming was over.
I stepped out of the elevator to find myself in an impressive lobby wherein the Agency emblem adorned oak paneled walls of the curved corridor, which gave me the sense that I was standing in some giant turret. Along the walls were portraits of directors and top officials of the present and past. Their visages loomed over respectable
looking leather couches and chairs. The carpeting was a thick navy blue ocean that seemed to suck all sounds right out of the air.
Having used my second ID card in the elevator to get me to the 35th floor I assumed it would also get me the through the massive double
doors to my left. I approached them and immediately heard the whirl and hum of electric motors in the surveillance cameras hidden within
mirrored domes that protruded form the ceiling. Waving my ID card in front of the sensor on the adjacent wall I waited a few seconds and
then tried the door, which didn't even budge in the slightest way. Just as I was about to knock on the door a voice came over a PA speaker next to the sensor.
"State your business." Droned a male voice in an official tone.
"Jr. Special Agent Goodwin…from domestic interrogations." I blurted out with all the authority of a gnat.
(Squelch) "Who?!"
"I said, Special Agent Goodwin from domestic…"
(Bzzrt)"No you didn't, you said Junior Special Agent! What do want man?" The speaker interrupted me. I noted that the formality had disappeared from his tone.
I felt the heat of mild frustration coming on, as I am not one that enjoys repeating himself. " I'm J-u-n-i-o-r Special Agent Goodwin. I'm here to meet Special Agent Rita Johnson in studio A?"
(Crackle)"Hah ha ha ha, studio A!? Oh man that's rich! Man this 'aint no NBC…studio A." He was obviously messing with me, which really
pissed me off because he was making me late. "Really man, what do you want?"
Exasperated, I cupped my hands over the speaker and began, "MY NAME IS…" Bzzzzzt, went the door lock. I straightened myself up and passed through the heavy black door wondering if I out ranked this security guard because I wanted to give a piece of my mind! No sooner than I entered a brightly lit curved corridor did I see Rita sitting on the security guard's desk…laughing and pointing. "Psych! Ah ha ha look at the rookie. Look his ears are tuning red!" Which was true, I was so flustered I felt like a freshman in high school all over again.
The security guard was chuckling and trying to apologize through his laughter, " I'm sorry man…Rita made me do it!"
"Come on B, follow me we've got work to do!" Rita cried out like a carnival barker. I got the distinct feeling I was going to be the
butt of many more jokes in times to come.
She led me another 20 yards down the hushed corridor to a black steel door that bore an enormous white letter A. Rita stopped performing an about-face, that's when it dawned on me that she wasn't wearing the shoes that she'd been wearing earlier that day. Rita had on a pair of
open toed tan house slippers, how it escaped my attention before I don't know but I tried not to notice too much.
"All right, all jokes aside it's time for us to earn our money B. Today we are interrogating a Mrs. Marla Quigley from Bismarck, North
Dakota…. Why are we doing that Agent Johnson?" She ended with a goofy face and tone to match.
"Good question B! We're trying to find out where her slime bucket of a husband is operating his smuggling ring from…" Rita answered
herself.
She started again with the mocking tone pretending to be me before I could ask a question for myself, "Well gee Rita why don't we just
seize his assets and apprehend him, duh?"
"Oh tisk-tisk Jr. Agent, that was a dumb question! We would do that if we knew where he was…we THINK he is somewhere in Central America.
We BELIVE the good Mrs. Quigley knows where he is or at least has been because she has been sending him cash and money grams. Every time the
same amount, and every time a different location typically one thousand miles away from the last."
"Duh, but where does she get the money from?"
"Ah! Excellent question Butterfingers, the Quigleys run a small time church wherein they swindle poor old ladies out every penny that have
so that The Right Reverend Quigley can go his 'missions' to save the poor souls of third world countries!"
Rita stood there smiling and then winked at me, "Pretty slick huh?"
I started to open my mouth, but she shushed me holding up her index finger to her lips. She then opened the door. I followed her into a
dimly lit room that had black curtains covering curved walls. It did indeed look like a small TV studio, with a few exceptions. The first being the giant two-way mirror, which I assumed was the window of some observation room complete with theater style seating. The other major
difference would be the black monolith lying prone in the center of the room lit by a single incandescent light fixture above.
Rita quickly ushered me through a second door that was at the far end of the two-way mirror…where there was, indeed, three rows of
theater style seats. What stuck me as odd were the two TV monitors that whined but showed no picture. Once Rita had closed the door I seized the
opportunity to breach the silence.
"Okay so what's with giant coffin in the middle of the room?" I asked with unabashed curiosity.
"Good question…that my young friend is Mrs. Quigley. Of course not the table itself, but the subject secured to the table under the black
tarp. It's a sensory depravation thing…you wouldn't understand." Rita smiled stepping up to the second row of seats and plopping down. "Not to worry," she said. "Mrs. Quigley is quite comfortably situated on the table. She's been mildly sedated and should be coming around very
soon."
"Tonight you will observe, I'll do all the dirty work," she cooed as she kicked off her slippers into the seat in front of her and propped
those gorgeous bare feet upon the its seat back. She beamed a big shit-eating grin and said, "Remember what you did to me this morning?
That's what I'm about to do to her if she doesn't 'fess-up'…only not quite with your unorthodox and um …unbridled passion." All the while Rita was wriggling and curling her shapely toes. Once again, I was mesmerized by her sheer simple but radiant beauty and tantalizing display of femininity before me. It was something about the way her she wrinkled her ample but delicate bare soles as if they were slowly being teased into some playful submission…I was gawking again.
"No way buddy boy, lightening only strikes once around here, got it?"
I swallowed hard and felt my nuts wake up while my face went flush, "I am a professional Agent Johnson, I have a job to do and a career to
attend to…I'm a big boy."
She laughed out loud, "Nicely put B! But you are so full of it…that's okay though you're hungry and motivated all you need now is some
experience and style. Take a seat."
I sat in the first row of seats; two seats away from my most recently love ravaged objects of my affection and painfully starred straight
ahead. "So lemme get this straight, we trying to get her to tell us exactly where her husband is or was and she's playing dumb little
preacher's wife?"
"Oh you catch on quick B, hey look at me when you're talking to me okay…I am your boss… remember that."
I turned quickly trying not to even glance at her pretty pink peds but it was no use. As soon as I shifted my body towards her she shifted
her legs so that the wrinkly sole of her right foot was practically in my face…she was toying with me. I told myself this was some kind
of test.
With an evil sort of grin I failed to notice before she splayed her toes and then slowly curled them in the same manner as when I was
tickling, teasing, and nibbling that oh so sensitive foot bottom! She put aside the paper work she had been holding in her lap and closed
her eyes saying, "Okay mister, I'm closing my eyes for ten seconds and you do whatever it is you need to do to get over this…"
No sooner did she finish that sentence I cupped the heated smooth and pulsing tanned foot top and firmly pressed my greedy mouth against
the rippling wrinkled creamy middle of her right bare foot. I gently gazed my teeth against the ticklish skin and she gasped gripping the
armrests. I flicked my tongue all wishy-washy over the still peach scented arch and she snorted and blurted out a tortured cackle.
Meanwhile my other hand was lightly tickling her left foot in one short burst from her round fat heel up her slightly sweaty sole to
her wavering toes. She pulled her bare feet away quickly put her hands over her mouth trying to suppress laughter through squinted eyes. For
second she took on a very youthful and vulnerable glow.
"Eehheheheheheheh heee hee, oh jeez if you ever do that again, I swear to God I'm going to fuck your brains out and fire you!" She giggled
trying to regain her composure, "Oh turn around for Christ sakes and wipe that stupid grin off your face…of course I like being tickled you idiot! Especially on my feet…so what, you watch how a real professional does it you pervert and you might learn something!"
With that she sprang from her seat and padded barefoot through the door into the interrogation room, suddenly I felt bad for poor Mrs.
Quigley.
For a minute I sat there grinning to myself and trying repress the base urges that just welled up in my body and mind, I felt some sort
of small victory in at least getting that unexpected confession and admonishment from Rita.
My warm and fuzzy feeling was interrupted when Agent Johnson popped her head back into the room saying, "Hey, throw me my slippers! And look over that file in the red folder, it's her profile information."
Obeying the orders with a stone faced new confidence I scooped up the house shoes and tossed them towards the half open door. Rita didn't
catch them she simply stepped into them where they landed and closed the door. I sat back with the red folder that was on top of all the
other documents in my lap intently watching Rita approach the table in the center of the room. She looked my way and then pointed to her
watch and then held up two fingers, I assumed this meant 2 minutes until we started. Opened the folder to reveal a picture of a mildly
attractive woman her stats went like this:
Subject: Quigley, Marla M. Mrs.
Age: 38
DOB: 08/25/63
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 175lbs.
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue
Home of Record: 35750 Piquette Lane Bismarck, ND, USA
Affiliations: New Faith Nondenominational Temple
Occupation: Church administrator / House wife
Relatives: None
Children: None
Looking at the picture… she was no supermodel, nor was she homely. Her shoulder length dark hair was sort of feathered back in a 70's kind
of way. She was standing in front a small white wood paneled building wearing a white sweatshirt embroidered with a teddy bear and a red
heart. She sported newer looking blue jeans and from what I could tell blue leather clogs with the wooden sole with white socks.
Mrs. Quigley had a serene but oddly comical smile as if something really funny had just happened or was about to happen. All in all she
looked rather pure, even boring and incapable of evil on the whole. A real honest farm girl blessed with a natural beauty, the original
sweetheart.
Perusing the file I found only one odd thing, several tickets for disturbing the peace, noise complaints from neighbors. It struck me
as funny…someone calling the cops on a church because they were too loud in their praises.
It was about then that the TV screens flickered to life and the light above the table increased it's glow to point where I could make out
the folds and creases in the black tarp.
Rita looked up gave me the okay hand signal and proceeded to turn the table on some unseen pivot point so that I was no longer looking at
its full length, rather the end she was standing at was moved towards the observation room. When she was done she bent down and reached
under the tarp with one hand and yanked on something until I saw an armature wing out from underneath the table with what seemed to be a
thick black pad. After a second I realized it was some sort of adjustable seat and Rita flipped the seat back up from the on top the seat itself.
I was so impressed with the massive hardware before me that I was startled when I finally noticed a face under very dim lighting
looking directly at me on one of the screens. At first I was confused, very confused, then I recognized the face… it was Mrs. Quigley. She
looked only half awake but far more beautiful than her picture, she slowly moved her head from side to side blinking and squinting.
Rita sat down on the seat and cracked her knuckles smiling a devilish smirk in my direction.
"Mrs. Quiiiiigley," Rita sang out in a vaguely country accent, "It's time to wake up Mrs. Quigley."
The woman under the tarp moaned groggily. "Uhhh-nnnn?"
"Wake up Marla…Marla are you there?" Rita asked lifting up the ebony tarp in front of her like tent flaps revealing a pair of what were
easily size 11 feet wearing some sort of black kidskin slippers. What little I could see of the ankles disappeared into the inky blackness
of the table abruptly.
I looked up at the screen with poor Mrs. Quigley's face on it and she looked a bit confused and concerned as she slightly strained to see
where she was and she definitely was not aware of the camera spying on her.
"Wuh wuh where am ah?" She softly asked in an adorable southwestern drawl.
"Why…you're at the salon, Mrs. Quigley…where else would you be? You fell asleep on us…don't worry it happens all the time during these treatments. Perhaps you had too much Valerian root tea hmmm?" Rita said this looking at e and winking.
"Why is it so dark in here? How come ah can't move mu'h arms and legs?" Mrs. Quigley asked looking mildly concerned.
"Are you comfortable Mrs. Quigley? You're in what we call our beauty cocoon and when you come out of it you'll be beautifully transformed
from head to toe." Rita smiled waving her hands theatrically. I wanted to crack up and fall on the floor but I was far too anxious for the
show to start.
"Well, ah guess ah'm comfortable. How long was ah asleep?" Mrs. Quigley inquired sheepishly.
"Oh not long, I'm sure. Just relax…so I understand you're from Bismarck. I heard all about this wonderful little church out there
run by the most inspirational man of the cloth I have ever seen! I was wondering have you ever heard of a church called the New Faith
Temple?" Rita asked nonchalantly.
"Well, yes that's my…ah mean our church." Marla answered in voice that perked up as eyes opened fully while she smiled. "My husband is the
pastor! Have you been there recently…have we met before?"
"Not formally…see now I just KNEW you looked familiar somehow…my name Jenny Lynn Danvers. So that's your husband?! My goodness what a
coincidence! And how is the good reverend doing these days?" Rita asked eyeing the slipper-clad soles before her.
"Oh he's fahn…he's away on another mission so ah've been kinda lonely but I don't feel bad he's out there doing his good work. And ah guess
that's more important than lil 'ol me…ah do have the rest of the flock to look after and all…" Marla conceded.
"On another mission? Wow that sounds exciting! Where is he now, someplace exotic? Gosh that must such a thrill, and you must be sooo
proud!" Rita grinned mockingly.
"Oh he's always goes someplace exotic, but I'm not always real sure where he ends up…"Mrs. Quigley started.
"Oh honey don't tell me don't KNOW where your husband is?! You don't communicate while he's away? I would just go insane not knowing if he
was alive or dead, that must be terrible."
"Oh heavens no darlin'! Ah mean, ah have to send him money all the time and he sends me little post cards and love letters...it's not like ah never know where he is…ah know where he's at right now,
but I'm not supposed go around tellin' everybody in creation. He says the government is always after him trying to use him as a spy because he
mixes in with the foreigners so good. Tell the truth, ah never did believe him until about a month ago…this real bossy government lady come'round askin' my husbands whereabouts. And told her ah didn't know because he had been gone so long." Marla boasted.
Rita feigned indigence, "Well…the nerve! They came to your house?
Unbelievable!"
"Ah know, well anyway ah didn't betray my beloved. And don't you know the very next week the good lord rewarded me with this weekend get
away package?! What a miracle, ah have never won a single thing in my en-tire lah'f until now. Let me tell you darlin' it has been nothin'
but pure heaven! Expensive gourmet meals, a beautiful hotel suite,and a day at the spa!" Mrs. Quigley was now completely relaxed and
chatty…if only she knew Rita was poised to strike.
"Well good for you honey, you deserve it! What was your favorite part so far?" Rita asked innocently.
"So far? Hmmm…ah would have to say the massage…and then the manicure and pedicure…oh that was nah'c, but the lady that was do it almost drove nuts…it was tigglin mah feet so bad," Marla giggled.
"Oh honey, I'm so sorry that was me," Rita exclaimed. "There's just much of those feet your to work with…you're a tall country girl
with big 'ol paws…but they're soft as baby's butt by now."
"Oh ah know ah know, My husband is forever teasing me about mah big feet…and he's only one that ever touches them and it's been a while since…I guess that's why it tiggled so much." She laughed and for the first time flexed her feet and curled her toes. The slippers didn't even cover her heels completely revealing the cleavage of her long
toes. With her toes curled I could see the creamy pale wrinkled instep of one foot and the pink rippled side of the other.
Marla closed her eyes and said, "Ah know ah have big feet an all but…these slippers and kinda tight…and they're making mah feet hot."
With that she attempted to use big toe of her left foot to remove the slipper from the heel of her right foot, but they were locked in
place just far apart enough to make it impossible. Frustration grew on her face and then she said calmly, "Hun could you uh help me out here ah
can't seem to move much in this cocoon thingy…"
"Oh you poor baby. Let's get these off and just see how those pretty piggies turned out." Rita said damn near licking her chops.
Marla's feet slowly flexed and curled while Rita took both heels in her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze, Marla smiled slightly with
eyes closed. Rita traced the edge of the slippers where they hugged heels and then began picking at the edge of the slipper with light staccato strokes; Marla's eyes opened slightly and her smile grew.
"Well pardon my French but damn girl these are on tight! How did they get these on you? Now let me see…"Rita exclaimed, while she watched Mrs. Quigley's feet quicken the pace with which they seemed to wave at her. "Oh I see! Right in there…hold that! Curl your toes again."
Rita barked.
Marla left one foot flexed while the other remained curled and Rita took both of her index fingers and lightly stroked the exposed instep
and outer edge of Marla's left foot. On screen Marla wore a toothy grin but made no noise until both index fingers were wiggling their
way into the gaps that's when she gasped and bit her bottom lip. Rita wiggled her fingers around inside the slipper.
"Hold on girl, I almost got it…just gotta get it off this heel…wow your feet are soft, really soft!"
From what I could see Rita was outright methodically tickling the middle of Mrs. Quigley's heel with both fingers digging into the
flesh. And then the heel of the slipper popped off leaving the slightly reddened and wrinkled surface exposed. Marla swallowed the laughter she'd almost let go. On screen I could see Marla was visibly
relieved but still giggling silently. The rest of the slipper barely encased the ball of her foot and toes, leaving wide open the milky
white fleshy middle of her wide foot. Her foot flexed and then tried to shed the rest of the slipper by wriggling the toes erratically, it
only bounced against the wrinkly arch causing her toes to curl down hard from the unexpected sensation.
"There isn't that better? Okay let's get this other one." Rita
announced.
Marla's right foot was still flexed…until Rita ran her nails over the bare top of that foot where she pretended to try to peel the slipper
away from the tops of the curled toes first. Mostly she just teased the tender toe cleavage trying to gauge just how ticklish her query
was. On screen Marla's lips were pressed together in a tortured grimace as she shook her head from one side to the other.
"Mrs. Quigley, are you okay in there? You're awfully quiet…I'm trying not to hurt you." Rita said flashing a smile my way giving her victim
a brief respite.
"Ah'm…fine…how much longer do ah have to be in here?" She asked still grimacing and relaxing both feet.
"Oh not long, about another hour or so…otherwise the treatment will be a waste, that skin balm has to stay on for at least an hour and half.
I know, you're feet are hot I'll get these things off. Honestly…how could anybody expect these size 10 tens to fit on you comfortably?"
Rita mused and set about her task again this time lightly tickling the exposed instep and quickly digging four fingers into the gap.
Marla's left foot went mad wiggling and writhing until her the two smallest toes popped out. Her foot reared back with toes curled trying to avoid the loosened heel of the slipper that kept tapping sliding against the middle of her sensitive foot bottom. She was smiling, mouth wide open on the verge of a guffaw. Meanwhile Rita had finally
peeled away the heel of the slipper, which like its companion curled inwardly to rest against the center of that big bare sole. Marla's face went calm as she sighed in relief and let her feet hang free and relaxed.
"There now that's better isn't it?" Rita said cheerfully.
Even with her feet relaxed her soles where plump and eternally wrinkled in every direction. Her arches were neither terribly high nor flat and boasted skin so pale that the veins were easily visible. The heels were flushed pink, long and curvy, and from what I could see the balls of feet were wide but very plump and shapely. Rita took hold of both bare soles and began massaging them using her thumbs first and then caressing with her palms.
"Oh poor baby, let's free those precious tootsies for you…"
Beneath the tarp Marla slowly smiled and mouthed the word "yes" as she playfully wiggled her toes back and forth.
Rita started at the heels and lightly grazed the length of each foot with her nails causing Marla's soles to flex in what appeared to be a sort of tortured ecstasy until Rita's nails wiggled their way up in between the slippers and the balls of the feet. Marla began audibly giggling as Rita's fingernails were touching the pads of her toes,
which started wriggling.
"Ooooo hooo hoo hoo that tiggles…he he he he…oh my goodness," Mrs. Quigley finally admitted as the slippers finally cleared her wiggling
feet…no doubt thinking it was over. At that point she sighed again and smiled pleasantly still giggling while her big beautiful bare feet
rotated on the ankles a newly freed toes wriggled and spread.
"Well I have done an excellent job, if I don't say so myself! My what pretty feet you have Mrs. Quigley…oh and look at those looooong
toes…"
Rita exclaimed holding the captured foot tops while caressing the balls of the feet with her thumbs. Marla spread her toes apart and
sighed out loud.
"Oh these toes look good enough to eat…and they smell like strawberries." Rita said lightly caressing the bottoms of the splayed
toes. She threw me a look that mocked my own actions from earlier that day.
"Thank you (giggle) but please don't eat my toes! I have to save them for my husband…he likes to playin' with mah feet. Oh I thought they were tigglish before…he he he ah could hardly stand havin' those slippers taken off…" Marla blurted and wriggled her toes.
"Hmm…where'd you say he was again?" Rita asked casually holding
Mrs. Quigley's right foot with one hand while caressing the ball of the
foot with her other palm.
"Oh now you know ah can't say…it's a secret remember silly?"
"Hey, now I though we were friends…and friends don't keep secrets from each other…I mean he's my reverend too you know. Oh darn it! Sloppy me! How did I manage to get red toenail polish on the bottom of your foot? And there on your big toe too…hang on. Oh where is that nail polish remover…oh never mind…I'll just…" And with that
Rita began lightly scratching at the top of the ball of Marla's foot with her long fingernail. Instantaneously Marla's left foot bottom reared back again with toes half-curled and visibly trembling, she let out a giggle. Then Rita began teasing the soft cleft on the bottom of the big toe until it curled down seeking refuge, but to no avail there was no where to hide.
"Eeeeee he heee heeee... oh stop that. Hahahahahahahahahahah…eee
hehehehe…don't you tiggle my toes..."
"Oh you big baby…you know…I bet if really wanted to I could make you give up your big secret…" Rita said sweeping a single fingernail across the wide fleshy wrinkling ball of M
