Advanact's
It's Only Tickling
It's Only Tickling
“Haw, Haw, Haw ... *snort*!”
Wincing as his babysitter’s obnoxious friend laughed uproariously at yet another mind-numbing “Three’s Company” rerun, David checked the wall-clock and counted down the hours until his mother would return from her weekend get-away. Squirming in embarrassment from his seat on the wide leather couch, the boy wondered where, if anywhere, his minder’s friend found humour in the vapid show before them.
Evenings and weekends at Ms. Morrison’s home weren’t normally this bad. David would be dropped off for a pleasant visit with the quiet woman while his mother went about her business and he’d spend the hours reading, watching a movie or chatting pleasantly with his caretaker until his mother returned. However, on this occasion an old high school friend of the boy’s babysitter had stopped by for a visit and, as David knew from previous evenings with Molly, the most intellectually stimulating part of the evening would be the commercials played between the moronically dull sitcoms this woman enjoyed watching for hours on end.
“Haw! Haw!”
Such a shame Ms. Morrison liked spending time with this dull woman, but it seemed his hostess enjoyed the slower change of pace which a watched television gave. Sadly, as his minder believed it rude for her babysat guest to read in another room when company had called, David found himself here instead: Seated awkwardly beside the chortling lady while she re-lived the television-centered life of her teens in hearty guffaws and gales of laughter.
“Haw! ... *snort* ...”
After arriving in the early afternoon, it only took a few moments of introductory pleasantries until Molly turned on the television and settled her plump behind upon the couch before it. Then, it was just a few minutes more before Ms. Morrison excused herself to depart for a few hours of shopping chores.
“Oh, don’t you worry, dear,” purred Molly to her friend. “I’ll take care of the boy while you’re out. Once you’ve babysat, you never forget how to sit a baby! Har!”
A half-hour into his visit, the boy couldn’t help but sneer distastefully at this unwelcome guest as she laughed loudly at yet another predictable outcome of yet another predictably absurd show. Although David had spent evenings with his babysitter’s friend before, this was the first time they would share a weekend in each-other's company and the first time the two had ever found themselves alone, as the woman delighted in reminding him on every commercial break.
“Such a lucky boy,” cooed the lady, as she playfully pinched David’s cheek. “Not many young men get to spend an afternoon alone with a genuine cheerleader!”
Yes, it was true. In her day, Molly had apparently been the beauty queen of her school. Head of the cheerleading squad and breaker of many hearts, the woman had delighted in her natural loveliness as a girl and wisely used it to secure a wealthy husband while she was still a young woman. However, the unfortunate man who chose her quickly ended the marriage once he realized that ‘pretty’ wears thin when it covers a rather thick package.
“Haw! ...*giggle*... Hee hee!”
Now in her mid-thirties and plump with practiced leisure, Molly remained quite lovely, but her intellectual dullness was obvious for all to see. Kept comfortable with a generous divorce settlement, the woman had no need to work a day in her life and so she passed her time at the gym, in beauty parlors, gabbing with friends or watching television. Bad television. Awful, dull, repetitive television which ensured not a single thought fluttered past her pretty eyes.
“...*snort* ... Haw!”
The kids at David’s school mockingly referred to the aging beauty as “Molly Moo Cow”, though it wasn’t clear as to whether the cruel nickname was born from the woman’s dull wit or from the massive bosom which bulged from her chest. Jiggling and bouncing along with each of the woman’s frequent giggles, the soft globes tended to bring the lady a great deal of positive attention, though David didn’t understand why. The only thing he’d ever seen Molly’s giant boobs do was block his view of the television.
“...*giggle* ... *snort*...!”
Cursing his luck again as the credits rolled to end another painfully unfunny sitcom, the boy couldn’t wait until his mother finally considered him old enough to be left alone for a full weekend in his own home. Now ten years of age, he certainly felt as though he was mature enough, but his mother seemed to believe otherwise. Besides, Ms. Morrison was a good friend of the family and a trusted person to leave the lad alone with for a spell.
“Haw!”
“If only ‘Moo Cow’ wasn’t here,” though David. “If only...” Sighing audibly as another re-run began to roll on screen, the boy resigned himself to being bored out of his skull for another half-hour of Molly’s merriment.
“Oh, such a sigh!” teased Molly, as she looked down a the lad beside her. “What’s the matter, Davey? Would you rather watch some cartoons instead?”
“Da-VID, please.” Mildly insulted by the childish way this woman was intent on treating him, the boy spat. “I grew out of cartoons years ago!”
“Whooo!” teased Molly, as she mockingly waved her hands about. “Aren’t we a big, bad grown-up now, eh?” Pausing to vacantly giggle for a moment, the woman asked “Whassamatter with cartoons? I enjoy watching them all the time!”
Disdainfully regarding the former cheerleader, the boy wasn’t terribly surprised to hear it.
Minimally dressed in a snug white t-shirt, hot pink tights and white socks, the woman looked for all the world like a lazy teenaged girl projected forward twenty years in time. With her playfully bouncing top-knotted hair, cherry-red lipstick and intellectually undemanding lifestyle, David was surprised he’d not seen the obvious before. He wasn’t dealing with an adult here: He was dealing with a child in a woman’s body!
“Cartoons are for kids,” replied David, as he coolly gazed up into his caretaker’s eyes. “I’d rather read instead.”
Giggling at the lad less-than-positive response, Molly teased “Reading, eh? Aren’t we all smarty smarty-pants now!” Turning on the couch to face the lad fully, the woman-child asked “Why would you waste your time reading? I haven’t read a book since school!”
Disgusted at the thought, the boy replied “Reading lets me think. Reading is-”
“There’s your problem!” interrupted the Molly, as she laid a perfectly manicured hand upon David’s knee. “You’re thinking too much!” Flirtatiously caressing the lad’s cheek, Molly asked “How can a nice boy get a girlfriend if he’s spending all his time thinking?”
Gads, but he hated how this woman constantly touched him. Shaking his head to move his face away from her hand, David spat “I’d rather have a girlfriend who was smart!”
“Oh, really?” asked the sitter. “So you think you’re a smart little boy, do you?”
Frustrated after hours of boring television, David angrily crossed his arms and sighed loudly in response. Being called a ‘little boy’ by this woman-child was too exasperating to believe!
“Now, now,” soothed Molly, as she condescendingly patted the lad’s head “Mama knows just what you need...” Gently grasping the boy in her surprisingly strong hands, the over-aged teenager effortlessly lifted David up from his seat and down into the plump expanse of her pink spandex lap.
“H-hey!” remarked the boy, as he awkwardly scrambled and slipped on the woman’s thighs. “I-I’d rather sit elsewhere, thanks!” Moving to jump down to the floor, David was surprised to feel himself instead hugged firmly back against the former cheerleader’s considerable bosom.
“Don’t be silly,” teased Molly, as she mussed the boy’s hair with her hand. “You’d just go and read one of those boring ol’ books like a gloomy gus! ... *giggle* ... Davey needs to learn how to have FUN!”
“No, I enjoy reading,” protested the lad, as he pushed to escape the woman’s hug. “It’s fun!” Pushing at first gently and then more firmly to move Molly’s arms, David was distressed to discover that he couldn’t budge her snuggle at all! “Lemme go!” said the boy, a little more frantically than he would have liked. David knew he was small for his age and the ease with which this woman denied him escape embarrassed him more than he wanted to admit.
“Husssh,” soothed Molly, as she murmured cooing nonsense down to the squirming lad. “You’re too uptight. You need to learn how to relax.” Brainless though this adult might be, her occasional gym visits were more than enough to grant muscles which had considerably more strength than David’s boyish arms could muster. Pressed between the soft, maternal clutch of the woman’s bosom and her plump and muscular arms, he was truly trapped in an infantilizing snuggle and no amount of undignified squirming would change that.
“No! Lemme go!”
“Hush now,” admonished Molly, as she adjusted her grip. “Little boys shouldn’t be telling their elders what to do...” Shifting herself to sit back upon the couch, the aging cheerleader positioned David to rest his head in the snuggling cleft of her softly bulging shirt. With the socked feet of his outstretched legs now resting on the pink spandex of the woman’s knees and his restrained arms gently pinned to his sides, the lad was now held fast in the woman’s enveloping hug.
“Oh, geez,” complained David, as his eyes locked on the changing channels of the television. “I don’t wanna watch more tee vee! Can’t we do something else?”
Teasingly covering the boy’s lips with one of her manicured hands, the sitter cooed. “Hush, baby. Mama knows best ... *giggle* ... little children should leave thinking to the grownups!”
“But I’m NOT a child!” snapped the boy, as he shook the woman’s hand from his mouth. “I’m old enough to spend the night without a babysitter and I DON’T wanna watch any more tee vee!”
Giggling at David’s outburst, the woman teased, “Oh, little boys are just so *cute* when they get upset!” gently pinching the lad’s cheek for emphasis, the over-aged teen set aside the television remote, hugged both of her arms around her charge and purred “Of course you need a babysitter, sweetie. You’re just a baby after all. ...*giggle*... Now, settle down so we can watch our show together.” As the woman kissed David’s head to conclude her chatter, the boy had to admit he was enjoying this snuggle at least a little bit. Cocooned by the soft cotton of Molly’s shirt, her spandex-covered thighs provided a perfect cushioned seat, with the gentle strength of her hugging arms telling the lad that she truly wanted him in her embrace.
Looking to the television, the boy granted himself the optimistic thought that his sitter’s choice of show might not be too bad this time around, only to have those hopes dashed as the commercials gave way to a dancing parade of singing cartoon bunnies.
“Oh, man,” whined David. “Cartoons?!?! KIDS cartoons!??!!”
“Of course, silly,” tittered the boy’s minder, as she gently squeezed him close. “Little boys just love watching cartoons!”
“B-but, this is a BABY’s show!’ complained the lad, as he tried to look away from the screen. “Couldn’t we watch something a bit more grown-up?” Squirming in an attempt to look away from the infantile cartoon, David instead found his eyes gently faced forward time and again by the head-cradling snuggle of Molly’s bosom. “Seriously, I’m more grown up than THI-mrph!” Cutting his own sentence short by turning his face right into one of the woman’s cotton-covered breasts, the boy blushed bright crimson as he straightened his head to look forward once more. “...Uh... Seriously I ... Uh...”
“Grown up, huh?” Tittering in delight at the lad’s embarrassment, the sitter purred. “Oh, Davey... *giggle* ... Don’t be so uptight! You’re in Molly’s boobie trap now, and boobie trapped boys HAVE to watch the Funny Bunnies all day long!” Softly brushing a cotton-covered breast against his cheek to emphasize her point, the sitter giggled again as she cooed “See? Aren’t those bunnies funny?”
“I guess so...” muttered David, as he shrank in embarrassment. Was this woman truly stupid enough to think he would find a cartoon for toddlers entertaining?
“See? ...*tee hee* ... Didn’t the mummy bunny just hop right into that field of clover? ...*giggle* ... I just love bunny cartoons!”
Rolling his eyes in boredom, the boy had his answer. Yes, this former cheerleader really was thick enough to find an infantile cartoon like this amusing and he was going to be stuck watching it for as long as the woman decided to keep hugging him close.
“Oh, lighten up Davey! ...*giggle*... You need to learn how to relax!” Gently teasing a finger under one of the lad’s arms, Molly tittered in delight as she heard the boy yelp in surprise. “Just as I thought ... *giggle* ... Davey’s a ticklish little boy, isn’t he?”
Laughing his response, David squirmed in Molly’s lap and tried without success to wrest himself away from her playfully wiggling finger.
Easily tweaking the flesh under the lad’s restrained arms, the woman purred “Yes, most children are ... *giggle*... I just adore little boys who are ticklish. They’re so much fun to play with!” Moving a hand down to lightly tweak her captive’s thigh, the woman grinned in delight at David’s shrieking response.
It had been years since David had last been tickled and he was quite distressed to see just how helpless this aging cheerleader’s playful tweaks could make him. He tried to protest, but each of his complaints quickly dissolved into childish giggles the moment Molly teased a finger beneath his arms.
“Goodness,” remarked the sitter, as she marveled at the lad’s reaction. “Didn’t that cheer little Davey up! ...*giggle*... If I knew a little tickle was all it took to make this grumpy boy happy, I would have given him a good gitsee goo months ago!”
Cheer him up? CHEER HIM UP?!?!?! Helplessly laughing beneath the woman’s teasing hands, the boy was as far from happy as he could possibly be!
David absolutely hated being tickled. He couldn’t stand the sensation of being teased into laughter and even an accidental brush against his skin was enough to cause him momentary fright. He knew the reason, of course: His ‘Uncle’ Lenny, an obnoxious friend of the family who would nimbly grope him into babbling hysteria as a toddler.
Pleasant family gatherings would quickly darken into a laughter-filled nightmare the moment the boy heard those deceptively playful words “C’mon Tiger, let’s have some FUN!”
David would try to run, of course, but a few short steps were all he could ever manage before Lenny’s hands clutched about his waist and lifted him from the floor. The boy would struggle and beg for help in the few laughter-free seconds remaining to him, but it never mattered. Far from offering rescue, his on looking relatives would just smile and tease “Uh, oh! It looks like someone’s gonna get tickled!” as if a night full of torment was the most wonderful thing David could wish for.
Dismissing his protests with a deceptively friendly chuckle, Lenny would admonish the boy for his shyness, firmly slap the seat of his pants and carry him off to an adjoining room where the two would be left alone, seated together in an over-stuffed easy chair, for an evening full of “fun”.
Unexpectedly reliving that past nightmare now, David shrieked in laughter as he squirmed in Molly’s lap. “Na-ha! Na-haha! No tickle! No tickle!” he squealed, as he ineffectually pulled at the woman’s groping hands. “Heeeehehehehe! No! Nohohohoho!” Somehow managing to twist himself free, the boy scrambled to leap from Molly’s lap but was quickly subdued into helpless giggles by a gentle hand wiggling at his belly.
“...*giggle* ... Where do you think you’re going, silly boy?” teased the sitter, as she drew David back to her ample bosom. “Not scared of a little tickle, are we?”
Unable to answer with anything but a squeal of childish giggles, the boy was helpless to halt the woman as she casually restrained him once more in a forward-facing hug. “There, now. ...*giggle*... We won’t see any more silly scrambles from you!”
Returning to his senses just as Molly’s arms hugged across his chest, David tried to turn his head to face his taunting caretaker but, snuggled as he was in the cleft of the woman’s breasts, the boy found he could only move his gaze a few inches in any direction.
Deliberately mis-interpreting the lad’s frantic gesture, the sitter let out a mock gasp and playfully scolded “Naughty boy! Wiggle your head in Molly’s boobies will you? ...*giggle*... Looks like someone needs another tickle!”
“No no nonononononoplease!” squealed David, as he watched the woman’s fingers slowly wiggle their way across his chest and up to his armpits. “Please no! No tickle! No! NOhohohohohoHOHOHO...” Easily subduing the boy’s struggles with her bosomy hug, Molly gingerly wiggled her fingers beneath the lad’s arms and giggled a sing-song tease.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle! ...*giggle*... Naughty Davey’s being tickled by his babysitter, isn’t he? Oh, such a ticklish little baby, too! ...*giggle*... A ticklish baby for the tickling babysitter! Coochie, coochie, coo!”
“Na ha! Na ha! Noohahahahahaa!” squrming in a desperate attempt to wiggle free of the woman’s hug, David was beside himself with panic. Trying to push up from his minder’s lap, the boy’s feet instead merely slipped against the pink spandex of her tights, serving only to press himself deeper into Molly’s tickling clutches.
“Who’s a ticklish baby? Hmm? Who’s a ticklish boy? ...*giggle* ... That’s right! Davey is!
“Coochie, coochie, coo!”
“Nooooooooohohohohohohoho...” growing less and less aware of where or even who he was, David laughed in helpless desperation as he looked down at the fingers which nimbly teased unwanted mirth from his sensitive skin. Losing himself in giggles, the boy’s awareness began to focus upon the teasing comments of his hugging tormentor, reminding him once more of the subtle tortures endured in the inescapable lap of his Uncle Lenny.
Playing the frantic mouse to his uncle’s chortling cat, David would spend endless hours attempting to escape the man’s wiggling fingers. Again and again allowed to scramble just to the edge of Lenny’s reach, the boy would be snatched back at the last possible moment by a gently grasping hand.
“Oh, ho ho!” the tickler would boom as he pulled the boy back against his belly. “Leaving so soon? But the fun’s just starting!” Firmly slapping David upon his bottom to elicit a surprised yelp, the man would immediately follow his spank with a groping clutch at the boy’s thigh to force a squeal of approving laughter.
Dreading another session of endless tickling, David would try to yell out for help, but a gentle tease from his uncle’s fingers was all it took to quickly turn his cry for rescue into another torrent of childish giggles. Chortling in amusement all the while, it was clear the man enjoyed tormenting the boy and took particular delight in granting and snatching away the false hope David could ever escape his clutches.
“Oh, ho, ho! Aren’t we having FUN?!”
Yes, it was truly awful to be left alone with a tickling sadist but, as David had discovered, it was even worse to find oneself in the lap of someone stupid enough to think you were enjoying their torture!
“Coochie coochie coo!” sang Molly, as she gingerly wiggled her fingers up into the lad’s armpits. “Tickles and tickles and tickles for the happy little boy!”
“No please! No please! Nohohohohohoho!” Laughing uproariously and looking as though he were having the time of his life, David bounced and squirmed in a futile attempt to escape the woman’s gentle touch. But it was no use! Trapped snug in Molly’s bosomy embrace, there was nothing the boy could do but laugh and laugh along with his tickler’s tease.
Hugged to face the woman’s infantile choice of cartoons, David completely lost track of time. One show after another came and went on the television screen and still the tickles went on and on.
“Oh, doesn’t Davey just LOVE his happy toon time? ...*giggle* ... Such a cheerful baby boy...”
His hopeless pleading now weakened to a stream of babbling giggles, David was sure he would soon lose his mind. Grateful that an earlier bathroom visit had at least spared himself the indignity of wetting his pants, the boy wasn’t sure how much longer he could remain sane in the woman’s infantilizing grasp. Could he actually go crazy after a few hours of this torture?
Growing weaker by the minute, David knew he couldn’t possibly muster enough strength to escape this tickler’s lap. Even if he did, where could he go? Doubtless he’d soon be captured again by this over-aged teenager and be put through another round of punishing teases.
“Gitsee gitsee goo! Tickles and tickles for the ticklish tickle boy!””
Too exhausted to complain, David lay back in his sitter’s hug and laughed through tears of frustrated helplessness. Completely broken, his only remaining hope was that his true caretaker, the delightfully boring and modest Ms. Morrison, would arrive home and rescue him from this stupid woman’s clutches.
“Such a lucky little boy,” soothed Molly, as she paused her teases to gently stroke the lad’s tear-stained cheek. “So ticklish! ... *giggle* ... I’ll bet he’s glad The Tickle Monster found him, hmm?”
‘The Tickle Monster’. Ah, yes. How could David have ever forgotten those hellish words? Bad enough to be tweaked to hysteria by an adult’s wiggling fingers, it was worse still to be teased by someone who insisted upon that misleadingly playful name. It was his uncle’s favourite title and one he insisted David address him by once his subtle tortures began. The boy hated him for it, but after a few minutes of laughter-filled squirming, he would have addressed his uncle in any way he wished if it meant just a few moments of tickle-free rest.
“Please, Mr. Tickle Monster... Please!” Humiliated by the ease with which the man could control his responses, the boy would blush in sorrow-filled hopelessness as he watched his uncle malevolently wiggle his fingers closer and closer to his tightly held feet. “I’ve had enough fun, Mr. Tickle Monster. Please let me go!”
“Silly Davey,” the man would purr in whispered satisfaction. “Once a little boy’s been caught by The Tickle Monster, the fun NEVER ends...”
Shivering at that remembered nightmare time, David returned his attention to his current predicament.
Looking plaintively up into his caretaker’s doe-like eyes the boy answered ”N-no... I-I don’t like being tickled. It reminds me of – Wait! No! Please I - MRPH!“ His story softly interrupted by one of the woman’s famously bosomy hugs, the lad felt tears of frustration well up to his eyes when he heard her dismissive response.
“Oh, don’t be such a tease,” scolded Molly as she gave David’s bottom a playful swat. “All little boys like being tickled ...*giggle*... If there’s anything I learned from my years of babysitting it’s that!”
Smothered in the plumpness of his sitter’s white shirt, the boy was barely able to breathe let alone respond to that ridiculous claim. Squirming restlessly in her clutches, David could only listen as the former cheerleader giggled her way through another tale of her teenaged past.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a boy who didn’t absolutely love being tickled!
“Oh, sure, a few of them would be all gruff and grumbly -- just like my Davey! ...*giggle*... -- but they all learned to come running to Pretty Miss Molly when it was tickle time!”
Listening in growing distress, David heard how teenaged Molly would tickle every child she babysat. As stupid then as she was today, the woman was convinced that her charges welcomed her attention and would gently tweak and tease them through gales of giggles until they eagerly agreed with whatever she wanted them to say. It really didn’t matter if they were being asked to say they loved being tickled or that they were made of grape jelly, it was clear to David that any child would happily parrot whatever statement Molly asked if it meant a moment of peace after a laughter-filled evening in the company of this girl.
“...*giggle*... Sometimes I’d have to tickle a little boy all night until he’d tell the truth! But it wouldn’t matter if it took five seconds or five hours ...*giggle*... after a little coochie coo, little children will always admit to loving Molly’s tickles...”
To David, it was obvious what this over-aged teenager had done. Was she aware of it herself? “Y-y-you tortured them,” sputtered the boy. “You tortured those kids until they told you what you wanted to hear!”
“Torture?” asked the sitter, as she bent forward to look in the boy’s eyes. “Torture?!?!”
“Yes! “ continued the lad, as he earnestly sought to explain her actions. “You held them down and tortured them until they’d do whatever you wanted, didn’t you?!?”
The sitter paused a moment as if deep in thought and then slowly crooked her head to the side as if stunned. Her doe-like eyes momentarily twinkling with the suggestion of understanding, the woman seemed completely shocked by the boy’s words. “I-I... tortured them?”
“Yes,” said David, as he gently continued his explanation. “You tortured them. You tortured them until they did what you wanted!
“Just like you’ve been torturing me!”
“Torture,” whispered Molly, as she blankly stared off into the distance. “T-torture...” Then, as if snapping back to reality, the woman burst into a gale of uproarious laughter and once again hugged the lad face-first into the smothering pillow of her bosom.
“Torture! ...*snort*... TORTURE! ...Haw! Haw!... Don’t be such a sissy! ...*giggle*...
“It’s only tickling!”
Shuddering in horror to hear those words again, David struggled to free himself from the sitter’s muffling hug but the best he could manage was a plaintive “Mrrph!” from within the woman’s cotton shirt.
“Yes, ‘it’s only tickling’ isn’t it?” he thought. “It’s only tickling, you stupid cow!
“IT’S ONLY TICKLING!”
It was those very words, after all, which the boy’s Uncle Lenny used to dispel the worries of concerned relatives. Though the man would always whisk David away before anyone could question his intentions, the boy wouldn’t have been entirely forgotten. Stopping by to check in on the hysteric lad, a curious aunt might ask if little Davey might not be tiring of Lenny’s gentle games?
“Nonsense!” the man would roar, as a nimble hand sought out the lad’s inner thigh. “Can’t you see how much he’s laughing? Why, the boy’s having the time of his life!”
Tickling to ensure David’s attempts to deny that statement would only appear to be another set of childish giggles, Lenny’s hands would distastefully roam over the boy’s body and gently tease to make him squeal with round after round of unwanted laughter.
“See?” the man would remark, as he wiggled his fingers beneath David’s arms. “I could only wish to be as happy as this!”
Uneasily watching those lecherously groping hands, thinking it awkward to point out the way the boy’s eyes had glazed over with hysteria, rather than make a fuss a bystander would always choose the most unconfrontational path available to them. Turning towards the exit, they would mutter “All right then... As long as he’s enjoying himself...”
Smiling broadly to dismiss any concerns about the franticly squirming boy, the man would reply “Of course he’s enjoying himself. Why, I could do this all night!
“It’s only tickling, after all...”
And, with that, David would watch helplessly as his only hope of rescue would quietly close the door and leave the two of them alone together again.
Alone with Uncle Lenny. Alone with The Tickle Monster.
“Haw! Haw! Haw! ... *snort*”
Still muffled in Molly’s bosomy hug, the lad’s frustration grew stronger with each of her condescending chuckles. How could someone be this stupid? How could this cow not see what she was doing?!
“Oooooh, torture,” mocked the over-aged teenager through fits of dim-witted laughter. “Oh, no! The babysitter’s gonna tickle me! ...*giggle*... Mommy, mommy! Pretty Miss Molly’s a tickle-torturer!“
“Mrrph!!!” humiliated by the ease with which the former cheerleader muffled his protests, the boy’s anger grew as her taunts continued.
“What’s that, Davey? Hmm? Sissy’s afwaid of a widdle tickle? ...*giggle*... Is hims afwaid the Tickle Monster’s gonna piggie his widdle toesies?”
“MRRRRPH!”
“Haw! Haw! ... *snort*
“Maybe pretty Miss Molly should wiggle a feather on Sissy’s feet? Hmm? ...*giggle*... Oh, no! Torture! ...*giggle*...”
Pushing at the woman’s softness to free his face from her smothering hug, David finally managed to wriggle his chin upwards and look up into the face of his tittering tormentor. “I’ll tell!” he gasped as his eyes glared angrily upwards. “I’ll tell everyone what you’ve done to me!”
Laughing uproariously at the boy’s threat, the sitter looked downwards and teased. “Oh, yes! ...*giggle*... Sissy can tell everyone!”
“H-huh?” Surprised at how casually the ex-cheerleader dismissed his threat, David’s spirits fell further and further as the woman’s brainless laughter went on.
“Mommy! Mommy!” she taunted in a condescending pout. “Pretty Miss Molly snuggled me in her boobies and tickled my feet until I giggled!
“Oh, it was such torture! She kissed my tummy and piggied my toes and we watched cartoons all night long!” Looking down with a knowing smile, the sitter asked “Do you really think a pretty girl like me would get in trouble for cheering up a grumpy little boy?”
Cheer him up?! David opened his mouth to answer that ridiculous question but could only blush and look away instead. Though he wished he could disagree with the bosomy bully’s claims, the boy’s complaints about his Uncle Lenny were similar to Molly’s taunting example and they were always dismissed by his elders when voiced.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” his mother would scold on their homeward-bound drive. “It’s only tickling! Your Uncle Lenny’s just showing how much he loves you.
“Why, he even offered to babysit the next time I’m away on business! Wouldn’t it be nice to spend a week at your uncle’s house?” Frantic begging to the contrary managed to spare David that particular experience, but it was clear to him there would be no help coming from the adults in his family. For some reason, none of them could understand how much he hated being tickled and now the boy was reliving those experiences again at the hands of this overly-affectionate caretaker.
“Such a gloomy gus,” tittered Molly as she snuggled her charge closer. “Everyone knows little boys love being tickled ...*giggle*... Baby’s just too shy to admit it, hmm?” Morosely shaking his head to the contrary, David braced himself for the stupid woman’s obvious response.
“Well then! Babysitter will just have to tickle baby until he admits it, won’t she?”
“P-please...” the boy whispered.
“Please?” taunted the over-aged teen. “Please, Miss Molly may I have more tickles? ...*giggle*... Of course you may!” Trying with all his will to maintain his composure, it still took no more than a few seconds for the woman’s fingers to reduce David to a helplessly laughing mess once more.
“There we are,” cooed the sitter in delighted satisfaction. “All happy again!” Adjusting her hold on the boy to face him towards the television once more, Molly comfortably snuggled the lad to her bosom and crossed her arms over in another inescapable hug.
Wiggling her fingers beneath the lad’s arms, the caretaker trilled “Oh, I just love cheering up little children! ...*giggle*... We’ll have no more pouting from Mr. Grumbles now, will we?”
“Na ha! Na ha! Naaaaaaaaahahahahaha!” shrieking through gales of unwanted laughter, David was lost in ticklish despair. No matter how much the boy squirmed, no matter how much he wriggled, there was no budging the ex-cheerleader’s muscular hug. Faced forward to watch those infantilizing cartoons of hers, the lad would remain the woman’s laughing prisoner for as long as she wished.
“Scribble, scribble, scribble!” teased Molly, as her fingers danced up and down David’s ribs. “Who’s a happy baby boy now, hmm?”
“Gaaaaaaahahaahaha!”
“That’s right ...*giggle*... Davey is!”
Laughing and laughing in the woman’s pillowy embrace, the boy was lapsing in and out of the humiliating state of helpless hysteria he once experienced at the hands of his overly-familiar uncle. “Please!” he shrieked. “Please! Pleeheheheehease!”
“Please?” echoed the woman, as she stupidly giggled along with the boy’s laughter. “Please more tickles? ...*giggle*... Such a polite little boy!”
“Noohohohoho!”
“No? ...*giggle*... Not a polite little boy?”
“Nohohohohoho!“
Oh, that’s right! Davey’s a polite little sissy, isn’t he?”
“Gaaaaahahahaha!”
“A polite little sissy who loves to be tickled!”
“Geeeeeeheheheehee!”
“Who loves to be tickled by Pretty Miss Molly!”
“Ah ha! Ah ha! Ahhhhhhhhahahahahahahahaha!” Losing himself in laughter, unable to take any more of the woman’s gentle touch, David knew he’d have to give the woman exactly what she wanted. He would have to agree with everything this ageless teenager said or else go insane in her tickling hug.
“Yes!” shrieked the lad. “Yes!”
“Oooh!” squealed Molly, as she eagerly tickled more. “I knew it! Sissy loves it!”
“Yes!”
“Loves being tickled?”
“YES!”
“Loves being tickled by Pretty Miss Molly?”
“YES! YES! YES I looooohohohohohove it!”
“Love what?”
“Gaaaaaaaaahahahaha! Lohohove being tihihihihickled!”
“By Pretty Miss Molly?”
“YES!”
“By who?”
“By Preehehehehetty Miss Mohohohoholly!”
“...*giggle*... Who loves it?”
“Gaaaaaaaahahahaha! I do! I DO! I DOohohohohohohoooo!”
“Sissy loves it?”
“YES!” squealed David, as the woman gently fluttered her fingers beneath his arms. “Sissy loves it! SISSY LOVES IT!”
“...*giggle*... What does Sissy love?”
“TICKLES! TICKLES! TihihihihihiICKLES!”
“Sissy loves being tickled by Pretty Miss Molly?”
“YES! YES!” shrieked the boy from under gales of hysteric laughter. “SISSY LOVES BEING TICKLED BY PRETTY MISS MOLLY!”
“...*giggle*... I knew it!” ceasing her teases and gently laying David down in her lap, the sitter affectionately cuddled the boy to her bosom and asked. “See? Isn’t it better to tell the truth?”
Gasping to regain his breath, his eyes closed in exhaustion, the lad could only nod his head in humiliated agreement as he felt the woman gently stroke his cheek.
“Good boy! ...*giggle*... And what’s the truth, cutie?”
Pausing a moment, David wondered if it was worth it. Could he let this stupid woman dominate him so easily? Though his caretaker was considerably larger and stronger than him, he was far above her in intelligence. Was there was no way he could escape her clutching hug? It would only be a few more hours at most until -
Interrupting his thoughts with a teasing sing-song, Molly wiggled her fingers above the lad and cooed “Tell Mummy the tru-uth...”
Looking up into the woman’s smiling face, the lad locked upon her vacant, doe-like eyes and knew he had no choice. There was one thing and one thing only that this bosomy bully expected to hear and any other answer would mean endless torture beneath her wiggling fingers.
Snuggled to the soft cotton of the woman’s shirt, feeling smaller than ever, David shamefully cast his eyes downward and said “Sissy loves being tickled by Pretty Miss Molly.”
Squealing with glee, the babysitter snuggled the lad to her chest and laughed with childish delight. “I knew it! I knew it! ...*giggle*... I knew little Davey loved being tickled!” Tittering to herself for a while, it didn’t take long before the sitter’s questions resumed.
Posing one of her perfectly manicured hands above the snuggled boy, the sitter playfully wiggled her fingers and asked “Who’s a ticklish sissy, hmm?”
David knew what kind of game this bully was playing and a quick glance at her devilish fingers made it clear that cooperation was in his best interest. Without hesitation he answered “I’m a ticklish sissy.”
Giggling in satisfaction, the woman continued. “And what’s sissy’s favourite game?”
Glancing fearfully at her poised hand, the boy whispered “T-tickle.”
“What’s that, sweetie?” purred the sitter as she moved her perfectly manicured fingers closer. “Pretty Miss Molly couldn’t hear you...”
“Tickle,” answered David, humiliated in his submission. “Tickle.”
“Tickle?”
“Yes, tickle.”
Moving her fingers closer still, the over-aged cheerleader giggled a moment before cooing “Tell Mummy again...”
His eyes locked upon those wiggling fingers, their crimson nails now dancing mere inches above his face, David squealed “Sissy loves being tickled by Pretty Miss Molly!”
“...*giggle*... Again!”
“SissylovesbeingtickledbyPrettyMissMolly!”
“Are you sure?” asked the sitter as she stroked a teasing fingertip down the lad’s nose. “It would be an awful shame if a certain little boy wasn’t telling the truth...”
“Oh, it’s the truth!” David blurted, hoping against hope that his agreement would spare him another round of torturous teases. “I love being tickled by Pretty Miss Molly. Really, I do!”
Giggling quietly to herself, obviously satisfied with the change in the lad’s demeanour, the sitter gently spidered her fingers against his cheek as she sweetly asked “But how can Mama know her Sissy isn’t fibbing, hmm?”
Daintily placing a single finger beneath the boy’s chin, Molly gently lifted his face to look once again into her doe-like eyes and asked “Hmm? How can Mama know?”
“I-I-I-I’m not fibbing,” stuttered David. “Honestly I’m not!”
“Who’s not fibbing?”
“I’m not.”
Smiling sweetly, the sitter asked again “Who’s not fibbing?”
A bit confused, David implored “I’m not fibbing. Honest! I’m telling the truth!”
Giggling gently for a moment, Molly daintily removed her hand from beneath the lad’s chin and once more began to gingerly wiggle her fingers before his face. Smiling somewhat devilishly now, the sitter asked “Is Sissy telling Pretty Miss Molly the truth?”
Understanding now what the woman wanted to hear, David gulped apprehensively as he watched those dancing fingers and replied. “Yes, Ma’m. Sissy’s telling the truth.”
Moving her fingers closer, the sitter asked more pointedly “Who’s Sissy telling the truth to, hmm?”
Realizing his error and now speaking somewhat faster, the boy said “Sissy’s telling Pretty Miss Molly the truth.” Noticing that the woman’s wiggling fingers drew back slightly at that correct response, David added “Sissy would never lie to Pretty Miss Molly! Sissy loves playing Tickle with her...”
Almost wincing to hear himself say such nonsense, the boy let out a quiet sigh of relief as he saw the sitter’s fingers draw further back and once again felt an approving hand caress his cheek.
“Such a good boy!” cooed the sitter in treacly condescension. “Sissy knows just what to say, doesn’t he?”
Nodding in agreement, the lad blushed in shame as he muttered, “Yes, Pretty Miss Molly. Sissy knows just what to say...”
“...*giggle*...”
His face pressed to the sitter’s bosom as she granted a reward of another smothering hug, David was grateful that she would expect him to be quiet for at least a few minutes in her arms. Though he had little choice in what he was expected to say, it still felt distasteful to be a puppet directed by this woman’s tickling strings.
“Such a good little boy!”
Blushing further as he listened to the woman’s taunting approval, the snuggled boy decided it would be best to simply play along with Molly’s infantilizing games. After all, as long as this child-like sitter remained entertained David would remain tickle-free and, after experiencing the teasing tortures of her nimble fingers, the lad could think of nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure that remained the case!
Her hug ended, Molly continued in her questioning game. Menacingly wiggling her fingers when the lad strayed from his expected behaviour and affectionately snuggling when an answer was deemed particularly correct, the woman playfully coaxed the lad into uttering a mortifying stream of ridiculous and embarrassing statements.
“Yes, Pretty Miss Molly ...*giggle*... Sissy’s little toesies are very, very ticklish!”
Using gentle teases from a single tickling finger, the former cheerleader began to encourage David to pepper his parroted statements with a highlight of childish giggles. Quickly catching on, the lad soon avoided her reminding tickles entirely by making those girlish outbursts a matter of habit.
“Tickle tickle ...*giggle*... Such a pretty word!”
Ugh.
Far from a fool, David was well aware of the playground-level manipulation the bosomy bully was attempting. Still, despite the ridiculousness of the situation, it was of little consequence for the boy to simply play along. The soft cotton of the sitter’s t-shirt made her smothering hugs rather pleasant to receive and her child-like tittering served as a frequent reminder that the woman was not the smartest person in the room.
“Oh yes! ...*giggle*... Sissy thinks ‘tickle’ is the prettiest word ever!”
Yeesh!
Parroting back the words expected of him, David comforted himself in the knowledge he was simply playing along with the sitter’s game. A bit of temporary embarrassment was a small price to pay to avoid a relentless tickling and it wasn’t as though he was acting without free will. The boy could stop this game of verbal repetition whenever he wanted!
All the same, the ridiculous phrases the lad found himself uttering were unpleasantly embarrassing, to say the least!
“Tickle, tickle, tickle! ...*giggle*... I’d love to say ‘tickle’ all night long!”
Oh, man!
After a while, David was able to tune-out and unthinkingly say whatever Molly wanted to hear. In some ways, that distance made the embarrassment a bit easier to take and, as he did enjoy the woman’s rewarding hugs, this was a game David could play all night long if necessary. Still, he sincerely hoped his true babysitter, the delightfully mature Ms. Morrison, would return home soon.
“...*giggle*... Oh, yes! Pretty Miss Molly’s hugs are the best!”
Oh, jeez! How much longer would this go on?
Having grown accustomed to the sitter’s treacly condescension, the only gesture the lad continued to find distressing was the menacing wiggling of her fingers. No matter how he’d try to calm himself, the lad’s heart would jump into his throat the moment those dancing fingernails were raised and his attention would once more be focused on the task of ensuring his babysitter was satisfied with whatever words he said.
“Um... Er... Yes! Oh, yes! ...*giggle*... Sissy loves Pretty Miss Molly’s ticklish kissies too!”
Whew! That was a close one.
Watching his sitter’s devilish fingers withdraw once again, David marveled at the almost hypnotic way the woman’s hand spidered whenever she wished to correct his words. With perfectly manicured fingernails far longer than any he had seen before, Molly’s hand would gently dance in the air with the crimson flashes of those perfectly rounded tips reminding the boy of the very gestures she had used to reduce him to squealing hysteria.
“Yes! Yes! ...*giggle*... Tickle-kissy for ticklish Sissy!”
Ugh!
Elegantly finished, Molly’s hands were obviously useless for any kind of actual work. Suited to tasks no more demanding than the watching of television and her thrice-weekly gym visits, since the over-aged teenager had no ambition beyond the enjoyment of her divorce settlement, those nimble fingers would never do more than press buttons and ring bells to summon those who would serve her needs.
“...*giggle*...”
And tickle, of course. Perfect, gentle, teasing tickles twirling from those impossibly elegant fingers if David slipped up and turned the woman’s mind back to her favourite game.
“Oh, yes! ...*giggle*... Kissies and kissies for Pretty Miss Molly’s ticklish Sissy! ...*giggle*...”
Oh, man! How much worse could this get?
Continuing to follow his sitter’s prompting and babbling nonsense for what seemed like hours, the boy’s mind had long ago numbed itself from boredom. Lying half-asleep in Molly’s arms, David paid little attention to the meaning of the treacly words he reflexively cooed, and the absence of the woman’s maliciously wiggling fingernails gave him the luxury of completely ignoring her ridiculous questioning game. Embarrassed though he was, the boy consoled himself with the knowledge that the tickler was at least being distracted by this infantilizing nonsense.
“Oh, yes ...*giggle*... Sissy loves having his feet tickled!”
Yeah, foolishness like that! What else would this cow coax him to giggle next?
“Could Pretty Miss Molly tickle Sissy’s feet? Hmm? Pretty, pretty please?”
Huh? Did he just say that?
“Why, of course!” trilled Molly, as she snuggled the boy closer. “Pretty Miss Molly would love to tickle Sissy’s little feet...”
Snapping back to alertness, David was unpleasantly surprised to find that he didn’t dream that nonsense at all. He had actually said it!
“Er.. Um... WAIT!” blurted the lad, as he tried to catch the attention of his sitter. “I didn’t mean to say that!” Watching with distress as the woman removed his socks and firmly snuggled his ankles tight, the boy squealed “I didn’t mean to say that at all!”
Tittering in amusement, the woman gently patted the lad’s cheek and cooed “Of course you didn’t mean that, Davey! Just like you didn’t mean telling Pretty Miss Molly over and over again how much you love her tickles! ...*giggle*... ” Adjusting her snuggle once more, Molly firmly hugged David into a kneeling position over her lap. With his arms pinned to his sides and his bare feet secure and exposed behind him, the lad couldn’t even see his captor as tears started to well up in his eyes.
“No, please! PLEASE! ..*sob*... I HATE being tickled! I just said those things to keep me FROM being tickled!” Squirming in desperation, the lad shrieked “Please Molly! PLEASE! ...*sob*... You’ve GOTTA believe me!”
Giggling gently, the sitter purred “Oh, I believe you...” stroking a single crimson fingernail down one of the lad’s exposed soles, the woman smiled at his shrieking reaction and teased “I believe this pretty little boy wants to be tickled all night long!”
“No, please! Please! PLEASE!” but it was no use. With a deft application of her fingertips, the babysitter quickly transformed the lad’s begging into gales of hysteric laughter.
Though he had been tickled by this woman before, David wasn’t prepared for the sensations of hysteria that washed over him now. Just as the former cheerleader’s fingernails had earlier spidered in the air as a malicious threat, the nimble fingertips of one of her hands now gently danced in an effortless tease up and down the soles of the boy’s firmly secured feet.
“Ah ha! AH HA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhahahaahahahahahaha!”
Though Molly’s earlier teases had at least allowed the boy presence enough to squeal in protest, he was now incapable of articulating a single clear thought. All David was aware of, all he could be aware of, was the firm hug of his brainless caretaker and the gentle tease of her fingernails up and down his terrifyingly ticklish bare feet.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhahahahahahahahaha!”
Up and down. Up and down. Twirling, twirling, up and down those impossibly long fingernails went. Teasing and tickling at every gentle touch, the sitter’s fingers continued their devilish dance without so much as a taunting comment to interrupt the shrieking hysteria of her charge.
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhahahahahahahahaha!”
Up and down. Up and down. Twirling, twirling, up and down.
“BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhahahahahahahaha!”
For endless minutes Molly continued her gently fluttering finger strokes in perfect silence before momentarily easing her touch to ask “Sissy loves his tickles, hmm?”
Incapable of any rational thought, the hysteric lad fell back on his practiced response and shouted “Yes! Baaaaaahahahahahaha! YES! Sissy LOVES HIS TICKLES!”
Smiling in satisfaction, the sitter purred “Sissy wants his tickles?”
“Gaaaaaaaaahahahaaha! Yes! YES! AAAAAAAAAAahahahahaha! SISSY WANTS HIS TICKLES!”
Pausing a moment to laugh in dim-witted amusement, the woman smiled broadly as she whispered “Tell me ...*giggle*... Tell me what sissy wants...”
“Baaaaaaaaaahahahaha! Please tickle! Please tickle Sissy more!
“Please! Please! Pretty Miss Molly! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAhahahaahaha! Please TICKLE SISSY MORE!”
And tickle she did. Hugging her captive close, the babysitter continued to gently tease her fingers in their devilish fingernail dance up and down the lad’s helplessly sensitive soles. Giggling in satisfaction, the former cheerleader smiled lovingly down at the hysteric boy and teased “Coochie coo, Princess ...*giggle*... Coochie coochie coo!”
Losing all sense of where or even who he was, David shrieked and babbled through gales of hysteric laughter as he mindlessly squirmed in the arms of his giggling tickler. Not entirely sure whether he was pleading for the sitter’s torment to end or to continue on forever, the lad shrieked whatever came to mind in the hope that something randomly said would end the torment and release him from the gently mocking jiggle of his sitter’s bosomy clutches.
“Coochie coochie coo!”
On and on the tickles went, with Molly’s sing-song taunt the only sign David had that a world still existed outside his squirming prison of mindless hysterical laughter.
“Tickle tickle, Princess ...*giggle*... Coochie coochie coo!”
Wiggles and laughter and tickles and teases. Squirming and squirming at the mercy of the woman’s fingernail dance David laughed and babbled for an immeasurable time until, all at once, he found himself laying alone on Ms. Morrison’s couch.
Now mercifully free of his babysitter’s tickling grip but still giggling quietly at the ebbing sensation of tease, the boy came slowly to his senses and saw that Molly was now animatedly chatting with four other women, one of whom was David’s true babysitter: The delightfully sedate and mature Ms. Morrison! Ceasing his residual giggles, the exhausted boy laid down upon the couch and quietly listened in on their discussion.
“...was going to be right back, but then I ran into these three!” smiled Ms. Morrison. “I just knew you two would be fine alone until I got back, and I couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to talk with the girls again.”
“Oh, yes! We were just fine,” answered Molly, as she glanced back at the bleary-eyed boy. “We just watched a little TV and had some playtime while you were out. ...*giggle*...”
“The same old Molly Monster, I see,” chimed in one of the three newcomers. “Never passing up an opportunity to play a little ‘tickle’ with the tots, hmm?”
“Always!” laughed Molly, as she laid a hand upon the woman’s arm. “I’m sure you remember our babysitting days, Betty ...*giggle*... Did we ever run into a baby who didn’t love a game of ‘tickle’?”
Watching the group as they all guffawed heartily at that comment, David soon came to understand that this was a surprise reunion of sorts. Ms. Morrison had run into these three old friends while shopping and invited them back to her home for a visit – which explained why the lad had been left alone with his merciless tickler for so very, very long!
Just as with Molly and herself, the three newcomers were apparently members of Ms. Morrison’s cheerleading squad back in their teenaged days. Gushing on about the happy memories they shared, David soon tuned out of their reminiscing chat and worked on recovering from Molly’s tickling assault.
Dozing in and out of sleep, the boy noticed that the women had settled down in discussion around him in the living room. Barely able to keep his eyes open, the lad picked up snippets of chat as their reunion continued.
“...Haven’t seen you for years! I wonder what...”
“...married now. I stay home while...”
“...Whatever happened to...”
“...living in Riverton now. Really happy, I hear...”
“...So how is...”
“...should get together more often...”
“...so much catching up to do!”
“..Why not?! We’re all free this weekend and...”
“...*giggle*... A slumber party! Just like old times...”
And so the chatter continued, with David lying back in exhaustion much like any other child past his bedtime. Eventually roused by Ms. Morrison to be brought to the guest room for a proper sleep, the lad waved a distracted ‘bye bye’ as the women childishly returned his wave and giggled at his adorably tired state.
Holding his proper babysitter’s hand as she quietly led him up to his room, Ms. Morrison thanked David for being such a gentleman with her friends and explained how they’d all be together again the following evening.
“We’re going to have an all-girls sleepover, just like when we were teenagers! Since you’re such a good boy, we’re going to include you too! Won’t that be fun?”
Nodding quietly as the sitter helped him change into his pyjamas, David was only partly paying attention as his caretaker continued her talking. Though it was nice to see Ms. Morrison so excitedly happy to play hostess to her old friends once more, the boy was eager to tell of his hellish evening at the hands of Molly. Though embarrassed to recall his ticklish helplessness, the lad was determined to see the former cheerleader punished for disregarding his maturity and wanted a guarantee he would never have to share a moment with the distasteful woman again.
At length, David finally did receive his moment to speak and, seizing upon it, quickly told Ms. Morrison of his tortured evening of hysterics. Of his babysitter’s disregard for his wishes. Of her taunting, her ticklish scolding and particularly Molly’s belief she would never face punishment for her actions.
Near tears after recounting his humiliating struggle in the bosomy tickler’s clutches, David sat down upon his bed and quietly awaited Ms. Morrison’s response. Though she patiently listened to the boy as he told his distressing tale of gentle torment, it was difficult to tell if the woman’s placid smile was one of understanding or dismissive condescension.
Did she believe him? Would she help? After a few moments, the lad had his answer as the woman nodded understandingly and reached down to gently stroke his cheek.
“Oh, Davey,” soothed the caretaker, as she laid a comforting hand upon his shoulder. “Don’t be silly...” Unexpectedly teasing her fingers under the boy’s arm, Ms. Morrison smiled in amusement as she watched her charge giggle and squirm in response to her touch. Turning towards the door, the woman shook her head and dismissively clucked “It’s only tickling!”
Left alone with his thoughts as his caretaker turned off the lights and closed the door behind her, David lay back in the darkness and let his physical and emotional exhaustion overcome him.
It’s only tickling...
It’s only tickling...
Feeling smaller and more vulnerable than ever, the boy shuddered slightly as he wondered what Molly and her friends might have in store for him next!
(To be continued..?)