Marge and Lisa visit the
Medieval Museum
The Medieval Museum looked very promising as Marge and Lisa pulled into the parking lot. The exterior of the massive building looked exactly like a castle from medieval England. In fact, it actually was made of stone and made almost exactly the same as back in the medieval times. "Thank you for bring in me here, Mom!" Lisa exclaimed. "You're welcome." Marge replied. They passed over a drawbridge above a muddy moat. Marge paid the people at the front counter, who were dressed as noble merchants. They each grabbed a small pamphlet containing a map of the museum. As they looked around, Lisa noticed that there were people dressed in medieval clothing, both rich and poor, mixed in with the visitors. There were various "peasants" roaming about helping the visitors and doing clean-up work around the museum. The people dressed more richly managed the shops and food court. "Where should we go first, Lisa?" Marge asked her daughter, who was looking around with wide-eyed excitement. "I don't know. It all looks so entertaining!" Lisa replied with a big grin on her face. "How about we just wander around then?" "Sounds good to me!" And with that, Lisa walked, almost to the point of running, in a random direction.
It was about four 'o'clock in the afternoon when Marge and Lisa finally stopped in the food court for a break. The food served at the various stands was what people would actually eat in this time period. They decided to just sit for a while, since they stopped earlier to have lunch and weren't very hungry. After about fifteen or so minutes, a small group of employees gathered behind them and began talking to one another. "We need some help in the dungeon. The two mistresses have fainted!" Said one. "What's so bad about that?" Said another. "Now we have no entertainment down there. Now people might not visit the dungeon." Said the first. "Oh. Don't you have anybody on reserve?" The second asked. "No. We do have some, but they called in sick this morning." "So, what are we going to do about this?" Lisa and Marge couldn't help but overhear this conversation. Lisa, being the knowledge person that she is, walked over to them and offered her assistance. "Lisa! What do you think you're doing?" Marge asked her daughter when she was done talking with the employees. "Oh, c'mon Mom! It will be fun! Besides, we haven't seen the dungeon yet. This way, we can see it up close!" "We really don't have much else for options, Ma'am. We would be willing to give you something in return, if you wish." The first employee offered. "Well, I am a little curious. Oh, what the heck! Let's do it!" Marge exclaimed. The mother and daughter were led behind-the-scenes and were given costumes to dress in. They were both the brown cloth that the peasants were wearing. After they were done changing into their costumes, Marge was asked if she could put her hair down. She reluctantly did so. "Well, are you ready?" Asked the employee. "Yes, we are!" Lisa stated with a grin. "What do we have to do?" Marge inquired. "Not much. Just sit down an d the other employees will do the rest."
He led them out into the dungeon. There were a lot of people there, looking at all of the various parts of the exhibit. Marge and Lisa were taken to the very back of the dungeon. They saw large, wooden platform, about chest high. On the platform, at the very edge, there were two pairs of wooden stocks. Lisa and Marge were looking about the exhibit in wonder, as the employee on the platform began to address the crowd gathered in the dungeon. It was probably because they were gawking at the exhibit that they did not hear his speech about the crimes they had supposedly committed, except for the last part. ".Because of the crimes these two wenches have committed, their punishment shall be one hour in the stocks." Two employees dressed as soldiers came up behind Marge and Lisa and began to bind their hands behind their backs. The girls weren't too worried, they thought it was all part of the act. They were led up the wooden stairs onto the platform. As they looked out, they saw that almost every eye in the dungeon was on them. They were gently forced down onto the floor of the platform. Another "soldier" came by along the front of the platform. He took Lisa's ankles and placed them in the bottom of the stocks. He then locked Lisa's feet into the stocks with a large padlock. Then he did the same to Marge's feet. The man who had addressed the crowd now came along the front of the stage with a small, evil grin on his face. He approached Lisa's feet and slowly began to slide the leather shoe from her left foot. Then, he removed the right. Lisa curled her toes as they were exposed to the cold air within the dungeon. She looked over at her mom just in time to see the man removing her second shoe. The employee set up two small tables, each one directly under the wriggling feet of a girl in stocks. Upon each table he set various items: brushes, feathers, and a variety of other such things. "For those of you who are uneducated on this subject," the man started. "I shall give a five minute demonstration on what you may do to these guilty wenches." He picked up a long, white feather with a pointed tip from the table beneath Marge's wriggling feet. He slowly moved the feather towards the soles of Marge's feet. A look of terror had come to her face, and she was wriggling and struggling in attempts to get away from the feather. When it was apparent that she could not escape, she just clenched her teeth and curled her toes. Lisa watched as the employee prepared to use the feather to attack her mother's feet. She felt something on her own foot. Her neck snapped back to look at her trapped ankles, and she gasped. Another employee was holding a feather just like the other employee had. He wore an evil grin upon his face. He then began to stroke the tip of the feather across Lisa's left foot. Her toes curled reflexively and she gave a startled gasp. Right now, the feather was just barely grazing her left foot, but Lisa still couldn't help but hold back a smile. She looked at her mom. Marge's chest was heaving in great amounts of air and a large grin had come across her face. Her toes and feet were wiggling so fast that they were a blur as the feather stroked her feet. A large grin came to Lisa's face as she felt the tickling sensation on her left foot grow stronger. Her own breaths began to come in short gasps as she fought to hold her laughter in. She started struggling franticly to get her feet away from the source of the tickling, but it was futile. Marge wasn't taking this so well. Her eyes were squinting because of the huge grin on her face. Her teeth ground together as she fought to keep her laughter in. Her frantic attempts to escape this hellish torment was wearing down her will power. It wasn't long before a fit of girlish giggles escaped her lips. Her tormenter continued to slowly stroke her feet with the feather. He began to trace small circles and spirals across the wriggling foot he was tickling. Without stopping his torment of Marge's foot, he picked up a feather similar to the one he was using now. With this second feather, he began to tease the very tips of Marge's toes. Her will shattered instantly, and she began to giggle uncontrollably. "Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee-stahahahahahahahap! Plhehehehehehehehehehease!"
The Medieval Museum looked very promising as Marge and Lisa pulled into the parking lot. The exterior of the massive building looked exactly like a castle from medieval England. In fact, it actually was made of stone and made almost exactly the same as back in the medieval times. "Thank you for bring in me here, Mom!" Lisa exclaimed. "You're welcome." Marge replied. They passed over a drawbridge above a muddy moat. Marge paid the people at the front counter, who were dressed as noble merchants. They each grabbed a small pamphlet containing a map of the museum. As they looked around, Lisa noticed that there were people dressed in medieval clothing, both rich and poor, mixed in with the visitors. There were various "peasants" roaming about helping the visitors and doing clean-up work around the museum. The people dressed more richly managed the shops and food court. "Where should we go first, Lisa?" Marge asked her daughter, who was looking around with wide-eyed excitement. "I don't know. It all looks so entertaining!" Lisa replied with a big grin on her face. "How about we just wander around then?" "Sounds good to me!" And with that, Lisa walked, almost to the point of running, in a random direction.
It was about four 'o'clock in the afternoon when Marge and Lisa finally stopped in the food court for a break. The food served at the various stands was what people would actually eat in this time period. They decided to just sit for a while, since they stopped earlier to have lunch and weren't very hungry. After about fifteen or so minutes, a small group of employees gathered behind them and began talking to one another. "We need some help in the dungeon. The two mistresses have fainted!" Said one. "What's so bad about that?" Said another. "Now we have no entertainment down there. Now people might not visit the dungeon." Said the first. "Oh. Don't you have anybody on reserve?" The second asked. "No. We do have some, but they called in sick this morning." "So, what are we going to do about this?" Lisa and Marge couldn't help but overhear this conversation. Lisa, being the knowledge person that she is, walked over to them and offered her assistance. "Lisa! What do you think you're doing?" Marge asked her daughter when she was done talking with the employees. "Oh, c'mon Mom! It will be fun! Besides, we haven't seen the dungeon yet. This way, we can see it up close!" "We really don't have much else for options, Ma'am. We would be willing to give you something in return, if you wish." The first employee offered. "Well, I am a little curious. Oh, what the heck! Let's do it!" Marge exclaimed. The mother and daughter were led behind-the-scenes and were given costumes to dress in. They were both the brown cloth that the peasants were wearing. After they were done changing into their costumes, Marge was asked if she could put her hair down. She reluctantly did so. "Well, are you ready?" Asked the employee. "Yes, we are!" Lisa stated with a grin. "What do we have to do?" Marge inquired. "Not much. Just sit down an d the other employees will do the rest."
He led them out into the dungeon. There were a lot of people there, looking at all of the various parts of the exhibit. Marge and Lisa were taken to the very back of the dungeon. They saw large, wooden platform, about chest high. On the platform, at the very edge, there were two pairs of wooden stocks. Lisa and Marge were looking about the exhibit in wonder, as the employee on the platform began to address the crowd gathered in the dungeon. It was probably because they were gawking at the exhibit that they did not hear his speech about the crimes they had supposedly committed, except for the last part. ".Because of the crimes these two wenches have committed, their punishment shall be one hour in the stocks." Two employees dressed as soldiers came up behind Marge and Lisa and began to bind their hands behind their backs. The girls weren't too worried, they thought it was all part of the act. They were led up the wooden stairs onto the platform. As they looked out, they saw that almost every eye in the dungeon was on them. They were gently forced down onto the floor of the platform. Another "soldier" came by along the front of the platform. He took Lisa's ankles and placed them in the bottom of the stocks. He then locked Lisa's feet into the stocks with a large padlock. Then he did the same to Marge's feet. The man who had addressed the crowd now came along the front of the stage with a small, evil grin on his face. He approached Lisa's feet and slowly began to slide the leather shoe from her left foot. Then, he removed the right. Lisa curled her toes as they were exposed to the cold air within the dungeon. She looked over at her mom just in time to see the man removing her second shoe. The employee set up two small tables, each one directly under the wriggling feet of a girl in stocks. Upon each table he set various items: brushes, feathers, and a variety of other such things. "For those of you who are uneducated on this subject," the man started. "I shall give a five minute demonstration on what you may do to these guilty wenches." He picked up a long, white feather with a pointed tip from the table beneath Marge's wriggling feet. He slowly moved the feather towards the soles of Marge's feet. A look of terror had come to her face, and she was wriggling and struggling in attempts to get away from the feather. When it was apparent that she could not escape, she just clenched her teeth and curled her toes. Lisa watched as the employee prepared to use the feather to attack her mother's feet. She felt something on her own foot. Her neck snapped back to look at her trapped ankles, and she gasped. Another employee was holding a feather just like the other employee had. He wore an evil grin upon his face. He then began to stroke the tip of the feather across Lisa's left foot. Her toes curled reflexively and she gave a startled gasp. Right now, the feather was just barely grazing her left foot, but Lisa still couldn't help but hold back a smile. She looked at her mom. Marge's chest was heaving in great amounts of air and a large grin had come across her face. Her toes and feet were wiggling so fast that they were a blur as the feather stroked her feet. A large grin came to Lisa's face as she felt the tickling sensation on her left foot grow stronger. Her own breaths began to come in short gasps as she fought to hold her laughter in. She started struggling franticly to get her feet away from the source of the tickling, but it was futile. Marge wasn't taking this so well. Her eyes were squinting because of the huge grin on her face. Her teeth ground together as she fought to keep her laughter in. Her frantic attempts to escape this hellish torment was wearing down her will power. It wasn't long before a fit of girlish giggles escaped her lips. Her tormenter continued to slowly stroke her feet with the feather. He began to trace small circles and spirals across the wriggling foot he was tickling. Without stopping his torment of Marge's foot, he picked up a feather similar to the one he was using now. With this second feather, he began to tease the very tips of Marge's toes. Her will shattered instantly, and she began to giggle uncontrollably. "Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee-stahahahahahahahap! Plhehehehehehehehehehease!"