A story about a woman who loves to step on men’s hands.
Cyndi slowly opened her eyes at the sound of the soft classical music coming from the clock radio after a delightful night’s slumber. “WOW!” she thought as she slowly gained all of her senses. Had she really spent seven hours chatting with her new “Foot Pets” on the WWW, yesterday?
From an early age, Cyndi knew she was different, from the time she accidentally crushed an errant and unsuspecting newt under the lethal spike heel of her mother’s 4 1/2-inch strappy sandal while dancing on her back porch, she began hunting victims for her pleasure. Now, with the new website, there would be a never-ending plethora of men fighting to be first to taste the sting of her BZs (you know the hollow heel that causes maximum damage and maximum pain). “Why fight it she thought!” There was plenty of pain in her heels for any and all men. Continue reading “Impaled Part 1 4.1 (9)“
The second part of the story about the woman that loves stepping on hands.
It had been three weeks now, and Cyndi had not even given the K-Mart incident a second thought until one morning she stopped at the local Mickey-D’s for a cup of coffee. As Cyndi opened the door of the restaurant and entered, her well-worn heels began to beat a sinisterly melodious melody on the tile floor as she made her way to the order counter. Now only a few feet from the counter, Cyndi noticed a young man with his left hand in a cast and immediately recognized “Film Counter Jim,” the K-Mart employee. Continue reading “Impaled Part 2 4.3 (6)“
The story about Cynd and Jim continues
In the nearly three weeks since Jim’s chance meeting with Cyndi at Mickey-D’s, Jim thought about Cyndi often but never thought that she would actually call him, until one night while bored watching the same old moves on ‘Smack Down’, the phone rang. Jim picked up the phone and answered with a half-hearted “hello?” “Hello, Jim. How’s my favorite film counter guy doing, how’s your hand,” came Cyndi’s cheery greeting, as she queried Jim about his well-being. “Fine”, Jim responded as he explained that he still needed to be careful with his now deformed/cupped left hand. “Listen”, Cyndi intoned, “my husband is out of town on business, and I am so lonely here all by myself, I’ve made an extra serving of Veal Parmagine, it’s your favorite, have you had dinner yet?” Jim was now excited at the prospect of having dinner with Cyndi, and it was easily detectable in his voice as he answered with an enthusiastic, “NO!” “PERFECT!”, Cyndi chimed, “everything is ready. “My address is 1145 Park Ave., can you make it here in 20 minutes, Jim?” “Yes!”, Jim said. “I’ll see you in 20!” Continue reading “Impaled Part 3 4.4 (5)“
The last part of the story about Cyndi and Jim
Moving even closer to Jim now, Cyndi extended her right hand and gently patted Jim between his legs saying, “come on Hon, let me take care of that for you.”
Rising from the couch with Jim in hand/tow, Cyndi lead him through the kitchen and down the basement stairs. Jim really did not know what to expect, he thought that he might be led into some kind of dungeon or something, but was put at ease when he arrived at the bottom of the basement stairs and saw a normal basement. This was obviously Cyndi’s playroom, as it contained a full bar, a stereo system, as well as, another wide-screen TV, a comfortable couch, and three chairs. Curiously though, there was no carpet on the floor, just a concrete floor. It seemed strange that she did not have this touch of added warmth to such a cozy room. Continue reading “Impaled Part 4 3.8 (11)“