Attack of the Tickle Monsters
Angie, aka The Queen, crept toward the stairs, holding the long wooden match aloft. Its feeble light barely pierced the inky darkness of the castle's basement as she paused halfway across considering how they might be waiting for her on the stairs before rejecting the idea. No, they would want to build the suspense a bit more before launching their attack.
Taking a moment to consider things, she figured the impending attack would come somewhere upstairs. Maybe in the royal kitchen as she exited the basement, or maybe nearer the stairs that led to the upstairs of the tri-level castle.
"Shit," Angie cried softly as she waved her hand to put the match out after letting it burn too long. She didn't like being down here in the pitch-black basement so despite only being given a half dozen matches, she considered using another one.
"No I had better save it," she whispered to herself as she carefully made her way across a basement littered with disused furniture and other various junk. Navigating the basement was proving harder than she would have imagined, especially considering the two handicaps they saddled her with to start this little fantasy game of theirs.
"How did I let them talk me into this stupid game," the Queen announced almost angrily as she crossed the basement hurrying as best she could despite handicap number one which was the white satin platform sandals with their nearly five inch stiletto heels.
These had been her wedding night shoes, and quite lovely, but not at all practical, especially for the game they were playing. The shoes combined with handicap number two--the flute full of champagne they made her drink at the start--was definitely making quick navigation anywhere an issue.
Her boys, nineteen year old Johnny and his younger brother, eighteen year old Jackie, were anything but stupid. Today was the queen's thirty fifth birthday and after taking her out to a nice dinner they came home to continue the celebration.
She suggested they sit and watch a movie but they both poo-pooed the idea of watching a movie as "too ordinary" for a proper birthday celebration.
It was Johnny who spoke up about playing the game as they sat on the sofa debating what to do with the rest of their night.
"Hey, I just had an idea," Johnny announced to the both of them.
"Oh boy, I can hardly wait," Angie replied. Johnny, the more outgoing of the brothers, was always full of ideas... and mischief.
Giving his brother a wink he said, "Hear me out as I have given this some thought."
"Oh wait, dude, you are not going to bring up playing chase and tickle with Mom are you?" Jackie exclaimed. "Shit, I thought you were kidding when you were talking about that earlier."
"First, it's not just chase and tickle with anyone, but with the beautiful, and most elegant royal queen... on her birthday, no less which is why we need to do something a bit different... and fun."
"Chase and tickle," Angie interjected with a smile, "That sounds like it could be a fun... kind of like when I used to chase and tickle you two around when you were younger and it was your birthday... and now you wanna do the same to me or should I say, the royal and most elegant queen."
She leaned back on the sofa, smiling at them loving the way they were comparing her to a queen. At best, Angie thought of herself as slightly better than average looking so being compared to a queen was a real compliment, although she had two distinct physical traits that any queen would envy: her hair and her boobs.
Her hair, it fell just past her shoulders, was a dishwater brownish blonde framing an appealing, slightly rounded face featuring a pair of mirthful hazel eyes. Angie's body, now that as a sight, featured plenty of attractive rounded curves, including a pair of robust breasts, she needed a 38 inch DD bra, topped by a pair of magnificently large nipples.
A cocktail waitress at a local casino, Angie was adept at the art of both showing off and teasing which was a trait she often showed to her boys at home as well as her customers at the casino.
Her smile quickly disappeared though. They were probably not serious about playing this chase and tickle game.
Dropping her voice, while shooting them a sad look, she said, "But I suppose you two are too old for that silliness now huh? You are just kidding right, Johnny?"
Johnny spoke up forcefully, "Yes, we are most certainly too old to be chased and tickled by the queen but what we are not too old for is a bit of revenge... right Jackie?"
"Yeah, a bit of payback would be nice," Jackie answered immediately.
"Revenge... payback?" Angie replied at first confused but then it hit her. "Oh wait, I see, let me guess... this time you two would be the tickle monsters attacking your mother, the royal queen, making her the hapless victim. Sounds interesting," Angie foolishly replied and that was all it took.
They spent the next few minutes hashing out the details of the game, trying to make the rules as simple as possible. The queen would be forced to start in the basement of the "castle" and have to make her way all the way upstairs to the safety of her royal bedchamber. Once inside, she would then have to make it to her bathroom where, if she could successfully shut and lock the door, she would be declared the winner.
Of course, she would be faced with several obstacles. The first being the tri level house, or castle as they were now referring to it in the spirit of the game, would be totally dark with the power being turned off at the fuse box.
For light, they would allow her a box of matches, the long wooden kind, but only six would be inside the box. The two other handicaps were, of course, the high heels shoes they forced her to put on, along with the full glass of champagne she consumed before the start of the game.
On the plus side, they generously allowed her to change out of the skin tight little black dress she wore to dinner. Wanting to be comfortable, Angie changed into a pair of tight faded blue jeans and a snug little blouse. Not exactly the attire of a queen but hey, at least, she would be comfortable.
Angie was a tad disappointed in having to remove her black clingy dress as she noticed it elicited more than a few lingering stares from both of her young sons as the night progressed.
Downstairs in the basement, after banging painfully into several large items, Angie reluctantly decided she would have to use another match. Dipping into the box of matches, Angie hurriedly struck the second match. After it flared to life, giving her just enough light to navigate, she made her way over to the stairs. Holding the match out high, and away from her body, she began to slowly climb the stairs.
As she reached the top of the stairs the match went out again. Sighing she slowly pushed open the basement door which gave way to the kitchen. Not wanting to burn a third match she gingerly navigated her way across the dark kitchen.
They had--cleverly-- closed the curtains over the window above the sink, not allowing any outside light to creep into the house on this cold, moonless January night.
As she approached the exit, which led from the kitchen and down a short hallway to the stairs, her high heels clomping loudly on the tile floor of the kitchen, the attack -- like a slow moving summer storm--finally came.
First, she was stunned and nearly blinded by a pair of bright lights from the twin high beam flashlights the boys were pointing directly at her face. She let out a small yelp, stumbling backwards as they both came charging down the short hallway at her holding their flashlights aloft.
She turned, expecting them to be on her in a mere matter of seconds but as she blindly groped her way past the small table, bouncing painfully off the large center island in the middle of the kitchen floor, she seemed to be making good on her escape.
Turning back, she could just make out their silhouettes in the kitchen. They had slowed down upon entering the kitchen and turned their flashlights off. As best she could tell, they were both moving across the kitchen toward her from different directions.
Quickly she turned her back on them and clomped her way over to the basement. She wrenched open the door, expecting at any minute to be grabbed from behind. Slamming the door behind her when the attack did not come, she twisted the knob lock securing the door. A few seconds later she felt the doorknob being jiggled before everything went deathly silent.
Crouching down, Angie waited in the darkness resisting the urge to burn another match. Knowing how impatient they both were, especially the highly reckless and impulsive Johnny, she figured they wouldn't hang out in the kitchen very long before retreating to a new hiding spot.
Forcing herself to be calm, she slowly began to count to fifty after which she would emerge from the basement to test the waters once more.
After she reached the designated count, she pushed open the door and entered the kitchen after striking her third match. Her plan was to quickly cross the kitchen and head straight to the stairs once again.
Straight away she was hit by a cold draft of air. Turning toward the draft, holding the match aloft, she found the source of the cold air. The curtains over the window above the sink were billowing out. The little brats opened the window!
Now, besides being utterly dark, the castle would be cold to boot. She considered briefly taking the time to close the window, but then she heard a pair of heavy footsteps trudging around somewhere down the hall she bolted, if would could bolt wearing high heels, for the kitchen exit.
She had barely got started across the kitchen when another draft of cold air blew her candle out. Not taking the time to strike another match, she continued to stumble her way across the dark kitchen toward the entranceway to the hallway.
"Shit," she exclaiming loudly as the mid-section of her body banged into a heavy object. It turned out to be the love seat from the nearby living room; they were using it to block the entrance to the hallway.
In a panic after hearing footsteps coming from behind her, one of them must have circled around and entered the kitchen from the dining room, she frantically clawed at the love seat, trying to move it in order to create an opening she could squeeze through.
She just managed to get the damn thing moved and was squeezing between the arm rest and the door frame when the attack came. Out of the dark, they hit her from both directions, one coming from deeper in the hallway, and the other one from the kitchen.
In a wild flurry of disjointed action she found herself being pushed onto the love seat where they fell to tickling her midsection with reckless fury. When she felt one of them, it might have actually been both, trying to pull her tucked in blouse out from her jeans, she yelled, "Please, no more. Timeout."
Much to her surprise their attack stopped.
It was Johnny who spoke up. "We shall grant you a temporary truce but it shall cost you."
"How so?" Angie asked warily.
