• The TMF is sponsored by Clips4sale - By supporting them, you're supporting us.
  • >>> If you cannot get into your account email me at [email protected] <<<
    Don't forget to include your username

The TMF is sponsored by:

Clips4Sale Banner

Haven for Tickling: Chapter 2 F/f nonconsensual NC-17

i64ever

TMF Regular
Joined
Apr 21, 2001
Messages
225
Points
0
Chapter 2:

As the young adults filed out of the room, Clara couldn’t help but sneaking peaks at them. After all, she would be Paired to one of them, giving or taking the most intimate or orders. Right away, one of the males caught her eye.

He wasn’t nearly as muscular as some men were. It was hard to tell with all his clothes on, but Clara was certain his he didn’t have bulging pectorals, broad shoulders or strapping physique. His facial features were more boyish than rugged and she doubted her had to shave much more than twice a week. There was something about him, however that attracted her.

He was talking to someone, idle chit chat with a friend. Clara found herself sliding closer to the pair, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation without looking suspicious.

Dale. His name was Dale. She heard the other use his name. Their conversation was about some athletic competition their respective Juvenile Centers had participated in. Dale’s eyes twinkled as he started recounted the tale. It seemed his side had won.

Dale’s voice sounded familiar to her. Was he the one who had asked the Tournament Mistress if it bothered her to be a Submissive? She thought so, but couldn’t be sure. Clara listened harder, just to be sure.

He was a good storyteller. Clara could see it all through Dale’s eyes, him running across the grass, dodging the players on the other team and kicking the ball. He might not have been brawny, but she guessed he would have a fit, wiry physique to play sports so well. She felt a longing for Dale. The thought of him shirtless, rubbing her feet and kissing her toes made Clara’s stomach flip flop. She knew she had found the one she wanted to target in the arena.

He must have sensed her looking at him, because Dale turned and met her glance at just that moment. His eyes sparkled a deep chestnut brown as his glance swept over her body. He must have found her acceptable, because he smiled too. For a second, Clara thought he was about to walk over to her.
“Excuse me,” a female voice from the lecture said behind her, “Aren’t you Clara from the Juvenile Center near the river? It’s me, Zoe. Do…do you remember me?”

“What?” Clara exclaimed, startled, her attention ripped away from the male she had been ogling. The moment the two had been sharing quickly faded, and he scampered off. Clara almost chased after him, but something about the voice that had spoken stopped her. She did know that voice! Quickly, Clara spun around go face her.

She immediately recognized her old acquaintance. Zoe had red hair too, but it was more auburn than Clara’s strawberry blonde. She was a couple of inches taller, with fuller breasts and slightly wider hips. She was smiling with the easy warmth Clara remembered.

Clara had no idea what to say. The two hadn’t seen each other in several years, and she had no talent for bluffing her way through conversations like this. Worse, Clara felt a wave of anxiety wash her at the thought of speaking with this woman. She hoped Zoe would say something, but she just stood their patiently, waiting for Clara to make the first move. She had to summon up all her strength to get her mouth to move.

“Hey!” Clara said, trying to sound enthusiastic, “Zoe, wow! G…good to see you!”

“You too!” she exclaimed, her hand moving up as if to shake. At the last moment, however, it darted to Clara’s side, pinching her side.

“AHA AHA AHAHA OOHHH AHAH NAWOOOO!!!” Clara shrieked. Zoe’s fingertips had just happened to hit the one really bad spot on her side, a place about an inch above her waist, wiggling with just the right touch to send a jolt of pure electricity up Clara’s spine. It lasted only a second, long enough for the redhead to emit several loud peals of laughter and feel her knees grow weak before Zoe stopped.

And everyone turned to look. In a culture where tickling was as a form of punishment or sexual control, playful tickling between adults was almost unheard of. Every conversation in the chamber stopped and every head turned to find the source of the outburst.

“Yeah…” Clara muttered, her face beat red from laughter and embarrassment, “I haven’t seen you since…”

“Since they made me change Juvenile Centers,” Zoe said, nodding simply. She said the words with no trace of humiliation, even though it had been a bit of a scandal back then. Children were only moved away from their friends and to a new Center as a consequence for repeated rules violations.

Still, Zoe said no more. She just stood there waiting, clearly expecting more of a response.

“Wow….What are the chances we’d be in the same First Mating Tournament! I…I thought you would have been already Paired,” Clara said, trying to regain her footing in this awkward moment, “Weren’t you…you were a year ahead of me?” She knew it sounded lame, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say!

“After the incident, the authorities thought it best that I retake some of the ethics and morality classes,” Zoe answered as smoothly as if she were discussing the weather instead of her punishment for a shameful act, “It took me the extra year to convince them I was ready for mating.”

“I…I see,” Clara stuttered again. Panicking, she looked quickly from side to side. The eyes of the room were off of them now as most of the others were moving towards the exits. “Well, I guess we need to get going. Good luck to you today.”

“And you,” Zoe said simply, giving Clara a quick hug, then turning and walking away, joining a blonde haired girl. If Clara had been less flustered, she would have noticed the slight caress Zoe’s hands gave her back and their slight tremble, as they were barely resisting the urge to tickle her again.

* * * * *

The outfit was had to wear was ridiculous. It consisted only of a top too skimpy to be considered a decent bra and a thong to cover her femininity. That was it. Part of Clara knew she should be ashamed to put something like that on, even though everyone else in the Arena would be similarly dressed. After her run in with Zoe, she was having a hard time focusing her thoughts.

She tried to dredge up outrage at the uniform, to concentrate on Dale, to think up ways to best him and make him her Sub, but even as she changed clothes, Zoe’s face was all she could see. Of all the people to be in her First Mating Tournament, why did it have to be Zoe?! What were the odds?

Clara’s earliest memories of the Center were lonely ones. There had only been a few other girls Clara’s age at her Juvenile Center, and she had never really gotten along with them. There had been no bullying, or mistreatment, just an understanding that Clara wasn’t welcome. They just hadn’t clicked.

It had been Zoe who had become Clara’s first and best friend. No, she had been more than that. A year older, she had become Clara’s role-model and mentor. It was Zoe who picked the games they played, the music they listened to and the hobbies they pursued. Clara had followed her meekly, certain the older, wised girl knew better than she, grateful that she chose to spend her time with a younger girl.

They been so close, as only two females shunned by the rest of the pack can be. Then, one day it had happened. Zoe hadn’t met her for breakfast like she always had Clara had checked her room, of course, only to find her missing. The girl’s sleeping nearby said she had been taken, removed by the authorities in the middle of the night.

Shaken, Clara had gone to the main office, hoping to find answers. Instead, it was the instructors who had been the ones asking the questions. Why had she done it, they asked Clara. Why had Zoe done such a thing?

Clara, of course, had no idea what they were talking about and said so over and over again. The instructors hadn’t believed her. They asked louder, a wild urgency written across their faces. They accused poor Clara of lying to them then they strapped her into the chastisement apparatus.

The most simple tickle punishments could often be administered without bondage. If the one to be punished was extremely wiggly or the one administering the punishment wanted to make a statement, simple leather straps were used. More serious violations required the use of the foot stocks. The thought of being locked into those for a few hours at a time was usually enough to keep the students on the straight and narrow.

The chastisement apparatus was only used as part of the most serious punishments. Most students only heard stories about it. The apparatus was a padded X-frame, one capable of keeping anyone fully spread-eagle and helpless, with every tickle spot imaginable vulnerable and opened to assault. That was the monster Clara found herself in that day.

As soon as she was locked in, the instructors had started feathering her breasts, the one time they had ever been touched, using long strokes from soft brushes. Why had Zoe done it? Oh god, it had tickled so much! Why had she done it? I don’t know, I don’t know! God, stop it tickles so much! They tell us why?! Clara cackled and cackled, as the plumes traced over her plump mounds, shrieked when they brushed her nipples. Why did she do it?

Clara had begged and pleaded. She didn’t know. Mercy, please. It tickled so badly! Why did she do it? The brushes started moving faster, flicking across her tender skin instead of stroking it. Did you help her? Were you her accomplice? There was a feather now, ’s tip was circling around and around her nipples. How could you have not known? What else did you two do? Please, no more! I’ll do anything, say anything, just make it stop! Tell me what to say! I…I…

To this day, Clara didn’t know how long the tickling of her breasts had lasted, minutes, hours or days. Eventually, they must have believed her, must have realized she couldn’t have resisted the feather if she wanted to. Clara remembered waking up in her room, hoping it had been a dream, but it hadn’t. Zoe was gone. Clara had assumed she’d never see her friend again, that’s she’d been taken to one of those horrible places they’d seen on the video or somehow escaped…she’d never known.

She had tried so hard not to think about that horrible day, to block it out, but now it came rushing back. Clara could feel the tightness of the leather on her wrists and ankles, hear the tension in the voices, smell her own sweat and feel each bristle as it traveled across her flesh. No, not now, not today!
She had tried so hard to forget, not just about the apparatus, but about Zoe too. Her friend was back, but oddly enough, the thought gave Clara no joy. Instead, it too made her stomach flip flop and her muscles tense. She might see her in the arena, might come face to face with her. How…how would Clara deal with that?

Of course she might never find Zoe in the arena or Dale either for that matter. The place was huge, almost as large as the Juvenile Center had been, full of twisting and turning hallways and rooms, filled with tricks and traps just waiting to help the player cunning enough to use them right or punish someone too trusting or foolhardy. And it was never the same twice, so there was literally no way of knowing what awaited her inside!

And if they did meet, it wouldn’t matter, would it? They had been friends for so long; surely they would just agree to go separate ways…wouldn’t they? For some reason, Clara wasn’t sure. When…when Zoe had tickled her side, Clara had gotten a flash, something like a memory, accept…accept, she was pretty sure it had never happened.

In the flash, Clara was lying on her back, Zoe sitting on top of her, straddling her waist. She was tickling that same spot she had gotten today, accept on both sides of Clara’s body. And Clara had been laughing, even harder, her tiny feet kicking, pushing on Zoe’s knees and begging for her to stop. Tickling another student like that could get you in serious trouble, but she knew the Clara in the flash would never tell, could never tell, would be forced to just take the torment again and again.

How could she know? How could you have a memory of something that had never happened! It must have been a dream, an extremely vivid dream she had just recalled…for some odd reason.

* * * * * *
Tournament Enforcer Steele walked through the female locker area. She was an impressive specimen, almost as tall as the Tournament Mistress with a statuesque figure, catching the eye of more than one of the Tournament Participants. With her long, blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, she looked very much like one of the mythical Valkyrie come to life.

The Participants, however, did not catch Enforcer Steele’s eyes. Her psychological testing all showed her to be almost exclusively heterosexual in orientation, practically immune to the room full of half-dressed females. That allowed her to avoid distractions and focus entirely on the search for contraband. Not that she expected to find any. First time Participants were usually too frightened, to in awe of the Tournament to try and sneak something in, and what they did attempt to smuggle in was easily detected by the automatic sensors.

It happened when she was patrolling a mostly empty section of the locker area. First Mating Tournaments used only a portion of the available space, and this part was all but deserted. If it hadn’t been for a weird humming sound, Steele would have thought no one present at all. When she started in that direction, Steele saw something, a flash of metallic gold coming from a locker over that way.

Steele moved around a bank of lockers, and peaked around a corner. There was a sole female, already changed into her Tournament Outfit but obviously not ready to head for the Arena. The woman glanced around, but didn’t seem to notice the Enforcer. Only then did she reach in and take something out of the locker and try to secure it on their person.

“Excuse me, Miss” Steele said in a loud, authoritarian voice, coming around the corner quickly, trying to take the woman by surprise, “You are in possession of an illegal object. Please hand it over at once.” Steele continued in that direction, bearing down on the woman and getting almost within an arm’s reach before stopping.

Steele stood there, letting her intimidating presence overwhelm the other woman. It wasn’t just that the Enforcer was taller but everything about her was so…dominant. She was in full uniform, with long sleeve denim shirt, pleated pants and official looking boots. Even her hair was cut in a short, almost military cut. Beneath her uniform, you could see the outline of hard biceps and thigh muscles. There was no doubt a woman like Steele meant business.

The other woman was almost the complete opposite. Her body clearly lacked muscle tone. It was the physique of someone more used to an evening of reading than of exercise. This could be clearly seen since she was wearing a Submission collar and the skimpy top and thong of a Tournament Participant . In another era she would have worn glasses and overalls. She was clearly a nerd girl.

“What?!” the woman turned around, startled, flashing large doe eyes at the Enforcer, “This? This is just a good luck charm, given to me by a friend. I…I wanted to wear it into the Arena. I thought it might…” Her bare feet took a step back as she glanced around for someplace to hide.

“No unsanctioned items are allowed in the Arena,” Steel repeated, looking at the object the woman was holding. It appeared to be nothing more than a golden bracelet, but that wasn’t the point. “The punishment for even making the attempt can be quite severe, as you saw on the video during orientation.”

“On the video?” Color drained from the Participant’s face as she remembered, “No…no, this isn’t…it’s not a Tranquilizer Patch or anything! It’s just jewelry? How can it be illegal? You wouldn’t do…do that…tickle my boobs…just trying to wear a silly bracelet, would you?”

“It depends on the nature of the item,” Steele said, feeling a bit bad for the innocence of naïve woman, but knowing she had a job to do. “If it is nothing more than a band of metal, your consequence will be slight. I will need to examine it to make sure.” She reached out for the item.

“Well, than, take a good look officer,” the woman’s doe eyes narrowed and the innocent look plastered across of face instantly became one of smug gloating. She quickly snapped the bracelet around Steele’s wrists, pushing a contact to make the device start to hum again.

“What in the…” Steele barked as the bracelet suddenly pulled her arm with tremendous force to a beam about a foot over her head directly behind her, sticking to the surface like a magnet to iron. The Enforcer tried to pull hand down, bicep rippling with the effort, but the bracelet might as well have become part of the beam. Nothing she could do would make it budge.

“What’s the matter, Enforcer Steele? Stuck?” the woman began walking around trapped official.

“This is a violation of Tournament protocol! Release me at once!” Enforcer Steele barked, “You should know that interfering with an Enforcer duhuhu ah a ahhhhh ahahahh duuutiieessss ahahah is a hah ahahh…”

“What? I can’t hear you?” the woman smirked, pinching Steele’s left hip, the same side as her trapped arm. The Enforcer laughed loudly, made a clumsy swat at the tickling appendage with her free arm which the woman easily dodged before giving her victim’s ribs a quick tickle, poking them through the denim shirt.

“aha ah ahahahahah nawwwoooo a ahah stawwwppppp a ahhah yoouuhuhuhuhuh rr r ahaha ahahah brhehehhkkinnggg ahahahah thehehehe laahahawwwwwww ahaha ahahah uunnnlauuhahahahffulll ahahahh unlawwffuhuhuhulllll tiihihihiickkklingng uhuhuhuhunnndderr ahaha ahah uhuhuhunneheerrr ahahahah ahahahrrehehehesststttt ahahah!!!!”

Steele tried to defend herself. She moved her unbound hand as fast as she could, twisting and turning her body to avoid the attacks. The woman easily dodged the Enforcer’s every attempt, pinching her ribs, digging her fingers into her waist and poking her fingers into any spot Steele wasn’t protecting, which ended up being most of her abdomen.

“Under arrest for unlawful tickling?” the nerd girl said, hands still moving up and down the Enforcer’s torso like lightning, “That’s so serious. I know I should be terrified, but you have such an adorable laugh. I just can’t stop goochie, goochie goo!”

Steele tried to take control of the situation, to bark out an order or at the very least to regain control of herself, but she just couldn’t! Every touch from the nerd made her laugh harder and harder, even with her uniform and its thick material to protect her. This couldn’t be happening! She was in charge! She…

“Who’s a ticklish girl? Who? You are, you are!” the woman taunted. She moved a hand up to Steele’s underarm, the one left wide open by her trapped arm, and gave it a few quick scrapes. Even through the denim, that was enough to make the Enforcer squeal.

“a ahaha ahaha geeheheehhehehettta ah ahahahahaha gehehehehettt ahahahaha yooouhurrr aha ahah hahahahhnnnddddssss aha ahahahahah ooffffff aha ahahahah of of fof meheheheheheh ah ahah nawwowo ahahahah ihihihihiiittt ahahahahh no pihihihiitttss uhuhuhnndderrr aha ahah aahaharreststst ahahahahahahaha ouuhuhuhuhuhttt oofofof THEheherer hahahaha!!!”

“Ahh, someone has ticklish pitties!” the nerd girl exclaimed, “Are you going to arrest me now Enforcer? Are you, are you?” she kept tickling the open pit, slipping her fingers around Steele’s clumsy attempts to block her attack.

Steele couldn’t block the attack. The tickling was starting to rob her of her coordination, and she just couldn’t keep her own hand between the woman’s and her underarm. Finally, she managed to grab the assailing hand by the wrist, pulling it away from her body. Finally, she could take a breath. There was no way the nerd girl could break her grip. She was safe.

Of course, her assailant had the one thing Steele lacked, a second free arm, and as long as the Enforcer held the first one still, the entire rest of her body vulnerable to it. That hand didn’t start tickling Steele, however. Instead, it went for the buttons holding her shirt together, undoing them one at a time.

“I think someone is wearing too many clothes,” she said in a sing-song voice, “I can’t get my fingers on your interesting places. Let’s fix that, shall we?”

The Enforcer froze. She couldn’t let her shirt become undone. It was her only protection! But…but to stop one hand from undressing her, Steele would have to release the one trying to tickle her armpit! She…she couldn’t…Her underarms were her most vulnerable spot…and if she released that hand it would torture her, right now. She…she just couldn’t.

Steele did something she had never done in the field before. She froze, only watching as the woman undid each button, never releasing the nerd girl’s other hand. Steele allowed herself to be stripped to protect her pit.

“One…two…three,” the nerd girl counted in a sexy voice, as she unbuttoned each one, her hand moving higher and higher as the fabric separated a bit more each time. Soon they were all done, and Steele’s shirt lay opened. Underneath she wore only a bra.

“Nice abs,” the nerd girl said appreciatively, “But they’re a bit pale. I think you need to spend more time in the sun. Then maybe this wouldn’t tickle as much.” She clawed at Steele’s tummy, wiggling her fingers over the hard muscle.

“HA AHA AHAHAH AHAHAHA NAWOOOO AH AHAHAHA NAWWTTTT AAHAHAH TUHUUHHUUMMMYYY A AHA AHAHAHAHA AAHAHAHH STAWWWPPPP A AHAHAHA GEEHEHEHEEHHTTTT AHAHAHAHH OFFFF AHA AHAHAHH AHAHAHAH MEEEHEHEHEHEHEHHEEE!!!!”

“Wow, you skin really is like butter,” the woman teased. She moved her hand all over Steele’s abdomen, from the bottom of her ribcage to her waist, from one side to the other, every pinch, poke and wiggle drawing forth loud, deep chortles that left the Enforcer’s face beat red. But Steele endured, still not releasing the hand poised over her armpit, allowing the nerd girl to have free reign over her stomach.

Until the woman slipped her index finger into Steele’s navel. Then the larger woman freaked. She had never been tickled there before, and was taken by surprised by the intensity of the sensation. As the nerd girl’s fingertip swirled around and around inside the tiny hole, fireworks exploded up Steele’s spine. She felt her knees buckle and for a second, only the bracelet that trapped her wrist kept her upright.

Now the Enforcer released the woman’s wrist, her only free hand moving like lightning to block the tickles exploding from her button. That was a mistake because it allowed the nerd girl’s other hand to slip inside Steele’s uniform and do the one thing it was dying to do and the Enforcer had been dreading, tickle that armpit.

“ARRGGGHHHHHH AHA AHAAHHA NAWWOWOWOWO AH AHAHAHAHAHAGGRGRGGG NNN NNHAAHAHWOOOOOAAH AHAHAHAH AHAHAHA NAWWWTTTT AHAHAHAHA NAWWWTTT AHAHAH THHHEEREREHHEHEEREREE AH AH AHAHAHAH MEERRCCYYYYYC AHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAH MEERRCCYYY AHAHAHAH STAWWPPPPP AHAHAHAHA BEEEHEHEHEHGGGGEHEHEHEHE!!!!”

Hard fingernails scraped across Steele’s tender underarm, sliding around the edges of her deep hollows, then plunging strait to the center. There they clawed back and forth, driving the blonde woman crazy. She stomped her feet, boots making quite the racket, and tossed her head.

It was worse than Steele had feared. The nails weren’t gliding over the denim of her uniform, but directly on her smooth, soft skin. Her entire armpit erupted in a flame of tickles, teased by the pointy tips and hard edges of the nerd girl’s fingernails.

“Tickle, tickle tickle, my ticklish little girl! Goochie goochie goo! I’m just going to eat you up! I’m going to tickle you all day and make you my plaything! My ticklish, giggling play toy!”

Steele’s brain went on overload, unable to think. Her free hand become caught between the two overwhelming tickles, on her pit and her button. It moved up towards one then down to the other, over and over again, never making it far enough to stop either one. It was useless now, unable to help her, unable to shield her body from the dual sources of agony! She…she…

She never noticed the second woman sneaking up behind her. Being aware of her surroundings and potential threats was something Steele was highly trained to do. In any other situation, the she would have noticed the second assailant quite easily and identified her as a significant danger. She was holding a Submission Collar in her hands.

Steele would have never allowed a collar to be placed around her neck, would have preferred death to such an atrocity. The taboo against causing pain, a cultural more that had restrained the Enforcer her entire life, would have never restrained her in such a situation. She would have turned violent first, swinging her free hand with all her might and kicking out with her military boots like a deranged mule.

And even one handed, even against two opponents, Steele would have done significant damage. Trained in combat techniques and fully berserk, she would have bruised skin and broken bones. It was very possible she would have knocked both women senseless or forced them to retreat. An Enforcer like Steele was not trifled with lightly.

However, the redhead nerd girl was tickling her so severely, distracting her like she had never been distracted before. Steele never noticed the blonde, didn’t even know anything was amiss until she felt the metallic circle fasten around her neck.

The tickling stopped and the redheaded nerd stepped away. It took several minutes from Steele’s sanity to return, for her to become aware again of her surroundings. When she did, she finally noticed the second woman. She was blonde like Steele and bigger than the nerd girl, but she without the Enforcer’s muscular build. She too was dressed in the barely concealing outfit of a Tournament Participant, accept for one thing. Unlike the nerd girl, she wasn’t wearing a Submission Collar.

That was now around Steele’s neck.

“No…No!” she screamed, her free hand going up to the golden circle, “I’m not in the Tournament! I’m…I’m already Paired! I’m a Dom for Haven’s sake! You can’t do this to me! I’m a Dom! You can’t put this one me!” Steel gave the collar a yank but found it stuck tight. Collar’s didn’t come off.

But this one had. The blonde had somehow removed hers! Collars were locked by advanced electronic encryption keys. Only a Tournament Mistress had the codes to open them, and she would only do that for those who subdued an opponent in the Arena and became a Dom, as had been done for Steele after she had dominated Brutus years ago. How could this woman just slip hers on and off?

“How long will you remain a Dom after I make you cum?” she asked her in a cold voice.

No! That was impossible! Only Subs wore Collars and she was a Dom! You couldn’t just put a Collar on a Dom! She had earned the right to be a Dom! You…you couldn’t just take that away from her! She had earned it! She didn’t deserve to be a Sub! She hadn’t lost in the Tournament! She’d won!

“You’ll never get away with this,” Steele said, trying to keep her voice calm, “You’re committing Unlawful Submission, Tampering with a Collar, Interfering with a Legal Partnership! Any one of those will get you “Reeducated” for the rest of your lives. How…oooOOOHHH”

Steele’s was interrupted by a wave of pure pleasure. The redheaded woman had undone her pants, slipped her hands down her pants and fingered her womanhood. Then she did it again. With a cry, she tried to push nerd girl away, but the blonde grabbed her free arm and held it tight.

“Maybe…if they catch me. But what if I get away with it? What if I make you my Sub even if it’s just for a few weeks or a couple of months? I can make you want me, want to do anything to please me. I’ll make you forget all about Brutus and live to worship my feet. I’ll make you love me. ”

A tear came to Steele’s eye. No. She… Brutus had been her Sub for a decade now! They shared something…irreplaceable! She didn’t want to lose him! Steele was under no illusions. She had been a Sub once, losing her own First Mating Tournament. She knew what the Collar could do to her if it was activated. She…she couldn’t allow that to happen!

“I promise you, Enforcer Steele,” the redhead swirled her finger, keeping the pleasure flodding through her victim, “I doesn’t matter whether it’s a few days or even a few hours! I’ll use every minute to punish you, to tickle and torment you in every way I can think of. I’ll crawl to me on your hands and knees, begging me to make you suffer. Is that what you want?”

“NooOOOOOHHHHHH GAWWWDDDD nOOOOOohhhhoOOOOO!!! YOUHuuuuuuuuu I I Youhhuuu woOOOOOHHuulllddnnn’t OOOOOOOOHH!” Steele moaned, her back arching, nipples hardening. She wanted to say something else, to threaten, bargain or plead with this redheaded nerd demon girl to stop. She couldn’t be her Sub! She was a Dom…poor Brutus! This was unfair! Not right!

“Or, you could do me a favor,” the nerd girl said, never stopping her stroking of Steele’s clit again, “One little favor. Then I’ll let you go, no orgasm. I’ll even take off that nasty collar. Do we have a deal?”

Steele looked down, stared right in the redhead’s eyes. There was no deviousness, no playfulness there. This was not the type of person you wanted to owe a favor. It would certainly not being innocuous or even legal. It would undoubtedly be something that could get Steele in big trouble…but no punishment could be as bad as being her Sub. What choice did she have?

“Anything…anything,” Steele whispered, “Just get this damn thing off of me.”
 
Ahhhhh, this took an interesting turn! Excellent flow and description!
 
What's New

3/28/2024
Stop by the TMF Welcome Forum and take a second to say hello!
Tickle Experiment
Door 44
NEST 2024
Register here
The world's largest online clip store
Live Camgirls!
Live Camgirls
Streaming Videos
Pic of the Week
Pic of the Week
Congratulations to
*** brad1701 ***
The winner of our weekly Trivia, held every Sunday night at 11PM EST in our Chat Room
Back
Top