MrMacphisto
Level of Lime Feather
- Joined
- Feb 5, 2002
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Merry Christmas everyone. This is my year-end gift to the community. Sorry, it took me a while to do this one.
For the uninitiated, here is a great link about Ivy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isabella_"Ivy"_Valentine
Here is a link on Zasalamel: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zasalamel
Elements of this story have been “borrowed” from the Project Soul website: http://www.soularchive.jp/
Soulcalibur – Part Six: Ivy vs. Zasalamel
It was a cold day at the Valentine Mansion. The end of the year was rapidly approaching as Ivy studied the arcane texts in front of her. She finally was starting to understand how to wield the Soul Calibur and destroy the Soul Edge with it. The only obstacle that stood in her way now was the fact that she did not know exactly where the Soul Calibur and Soul Edge were. As various thoughts flooded her mind, she began to nod off. Just before she fell asleep, the door to her lab opened. Standing at the entrance was a tall, African man in a white robe marked with cryptic symbols.
“Who are you?” Ivy masked her surprise with a tone of disdain as she closed her most prized book.
“Did you read that?” The mysterious intruder’s voice was as cold as the winter air, and his accent sounded unusual, almost primordial.
For a few fleeting moments, they stared at each other in silence. Each of them seemed to size the other up. In a remarkably swift motion, Ivy grabbed her book, jumped up from her desk, and withdrew her sword.
The man just grinned grimly as he pulled a massive scythe seemingly out of thin air. Ivy had thought her sword would provide her with a considerable range advantage, but she was wrong.
Ivy made the first slash as the sword transformed into her trademark whip. The end of the blade swung dangerously close to the intruder’s face, but he knocked it away with his scythe. He returned her attack with a deadly swipe near her neck that she narrowly dodged. Back and forth, the combat ensued between these evenly matched warriors. With each attack, a chair, desk, or bookshelf would fall prey to the destructive power of both combatants’ weapons.
Yet, Ivy slowly began to realize that her enemy was gaining the upper hand. For some strange reason, it was taking her more effort than usual to transform and control her sword-whip. She suspected that her opponent was using some sort of magic to hinder her sword’s abilities. After the man slipped a hard thrust with the butt of his scythe past her defenses, Ivy was thrown backwards against the floor. She quickly got up from her fall but winced in pain from the resulting wound inflicted on her shoulder.
She noticed a few moments too late that she wasn’t holding her book any longer. The African man was now balancing the book in his outstretched hand.
“This is a mistake from my past. The world no longer needs this….” The book was instantly engulfed in flames that seemed to emanate from his hand.
Ivy gasped and stared in utter horror as the primary source of months of her research was completely destroyed right in front of her. The man dropped the burning book to the floor, and when it shattered into burning ashes, the flames spread fiercely across the room. A wall of flame effectively separated her from this intruder as he turned to leave.
“STOP!!!” Ivy roared in anger.
“If you wish to learn everything about the cursed sword and the spirit sword, then follow the knight you know so well….” He turned to leave yet again.
Before even committing these words to memory, Ivy’s rage took hold of her. How could this man enter her home, destroy her research and her lab, and expect to leave unscathed? She ran forward and jumped the flames in just enough time to catch a glimpse of the man running out of the doorway. She pursued him at a full sprint, and when she turned to look down the hallway, he was almost at the door to the stairway. This man was amazingly fast, thought Ivy.
The intruder heard the sound of Ivy’s heels against the carpeted floor of the hallway and glanced at her before looking down the spiral stairway. After a moment of hesitation, he leapt from the railing.
Ivy had almost caught up with the man, when she saw him flip over the railing. She ran up to the edge and looked down. Miraculously, he landed with a roll, and broke into a run yet again. Time was running out, and if he made it to the front double doors, she knew she’d probably lose him outside. Instinctively, she looked up at the chandelier nearest to her.
The double doors were looming just ahead of the man as he continued running. However, the sound of clinking glass startled him. He turned around just in time to see Ivy swinging from her sword-whip attached to the chandelier. At the peak of her swing, her whip let go of the chandelier, and she came flying down towards him with her sword pointed right at him.
“AAAAAHHH!!!!” Ivy screamed as she prepared to impale her enemy. Unfortunately, he had enough time to strike her sword from her while he dodged her body. She hit the floor in a violent thump that sent her somersaulting against the front doors. Darkness clouded her senses as she saw her enemy approaching her, and the faint smell of smoke hung in the air.
Ivy awoke to the feel of cold water upon her face and chest. She opened her eyes, but she still could not see anything. She had been blindfolded, and when she tried to sit up, she discovered that she was bound spread-eagle to a table. The sound of dripping water could be heard in the distance, and the cold air of the room brushed against her pale skin. She was only wearing her bikini undergarments.
“I see that you’re awake now.” The ominous voice of her enemy reverberated throughout the room.
“Who in the bloody hell are you?!” Ivy was deeply fearful of what this man might subject her to, but she could only hope her ferocity would deter him.
“I’m Zasalamel.”
Ivy froze in fear. That was the name of the original author of the book she had just read. But this couldn’t be him: the book she had read was a one thousand year old translation of a text that was originally written around the time of Ancient Nubia.
“I know what you’re thinking. How could a man several millennia old still be alive? The answer is reincarnation. However, I must warn you…. Immortality is not as nice as it sounds.”
For the moment, Ivy assumed that this man was truly insane, but she had more pressing matters now. She had to find a way out of these bonds.
“You’re probably wondering where you are now. Take a guess….”
“In the backroom of Vauxhall, I suppose.”
“Oh… you’re comedic. I like that….” Zasalamel leaned close to Ivy and spoke in a low whisper. “Actually, we’re in the dungeon beneath your mansion. It appears that the original owners had some peculiar interests.”
“Don’t be absurd! My family has owned this estate for generations, and we have no dungeon!”
“Well then, perhaps, your ancestors had a darker side to them than you realized. Of course, I know that your real parents have been dead for over 20 years.”
Ivy froze again. How could he know so much about her? She had never seen this man before today, but somehow, he even knew her darkest secrets (and a few things she was unaware of).
“Another gift of my immortal state is telepathy. So when I said that I knew what you’re thinking, I was being literal.” Zasalamel laughed menacingly.
Ivy was growing even more uncomfortable with her situation. If what he was saying was true, then she was at a supreme disadvantage against this man. Of course, there still was the possibility that he was utterly nuts, which was hardly better. As she struggled against her bonds again, she felt a cold, wet sensation on her stomach that caused her to shudder.
“As I said earlier, I like how you are comedic. In fact, there will be plenty of time for you to laugh tonight.”
Ivy began to side more with the insanity possibility at these words, but another thought occurred to her. “So, you said we’re in the basement of my mansion, correct?”
“Yes, and I have already put out the fire in your study.”
Ivy grunted in annoyance as cold droplets of water ran along her navel. Maybe he really was a telepath, since she had been wondering about the fire. Then again, the phrasing of her question could have easily led him to that topic. Before she could contemplate this further, cold fingers goosed her delicate ribs.
WWUUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAHHHHH
Zasalamel smiled at the spastic reactions he was getting from Ivy. She seemed as ticklish as he was hoping for, and her stomach proved to be just as vulnerable as her ribs. He continued groping her ribs as he slid an ice cube along her quivering stomach with his teeth and tongue. She was bucking wildly against the table, but the bonds held her wrists and ankles firmly.
Ivy squinted her eyes shut as laughter flowed heartily from her. She had never known she was this ticklish; her lovers had been interested in sharing pain, but never tickling. Just as she was beginning to adjust to this torture, Zasalamel’s slippery fingers slid into her shaved pits. Her laughter became shrill squeals.
HHHHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHHH
Zasalamel was enjoying every minute of making his victim squirm. He kept stroking her pits as he moistened her bra with the ice cube. When the imprints of Ivy’s erect nipples were visible through the thin cloth, he let the ice cube slip into her cleavage. She shrieked at this cold touch.
Ivy desperately tried to twist her chest enough to throw the ice cube from her cleavage, but it was no use. The ice against her cleavage was chilling, but when her aggressor had rubbed it against her nipples, she moaned longingly. She groaned in pain when he pulled her hair to force her head back. As he held her in this position, she felt him lick and kiss her sensitive neck. Past lovers had put her through this, and so the pleasure mixed with pain aroused her more. As he sucked and softly bit her neck several times, she moaned loudly, and her hips twitched.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNHHHHHH
Zasalamel was very pleased with what he was hearing. He still held onto her hair as he leaned over to one of her ears. “I see that you like pain,” he whispered as he licked and nibbled the edge of her ear. Ivy silently mouthed the word “yes” with a nervous smile. “As you will soon discover, tickling can be a form of pain unto itself.” He let go of her hair and walked away from the table for a moment.
Despite her predicament, Ivy was very turned on by all this suspense. Whether she liked it or not, danger could drive her wild under the proper circumstances. She tried to cool down her libido, however, because she still wanted to get out of this somehow. Suddenly, she felt light, wispy touches along her bare soles.
Even though she wore high-heeled boots most of the time, Ivy took good care of her feet. She would get pedicures regularly to prevent getting calluses from her rigid footwear. Unfortunately, this also meant her soft soles were quite sensitive. Ivy curled her toes reflexively as the touches continued to tease her. Since she was blindfolded, she was unable to anticipate his moves.
Zasalamel stood at the foot of the table. His victim’s feet were flexing with each brush of the feather dusters. Ivy’s soles were pale and wrinkly, and her round toes wriggled each time the feathers would sneak under and between them. Her toenails were painted a deep purple. He twirled the dusters up and down her soles for greater effect.
Ivy bit her lip and tried to muffle her giggles. Her feet twitched futilely as the dusters tormented her sensitive soles. After a few minutes of this, the dusters stopped. Ivy sighed in hope that her captor would give her a rest. Only seconds later, she felt the familiar touch of cold fingers fondling the tops and soles of her feet. His thumbs softly rubbed her heels and arches.
Zasalamel elicited several coos from his victim as he massaged her tender soles. He gently rubbed her toes and watched as her breathing grew deeper and slower. A pleasant smile spread across Ivy’s face as the African stroked her ankles. He wiggled his fingers slowly across her soles to make her giggle and curl her toes again.
Though his touches were ticklish, Ivy also found this stimulation of her feet rather arousing. She had endured a brief session of bastinado before, but no lover had bothered to tickle her feet. She never would have guessed that her feet were an erogenous zone for her, or that tickling them would turn her on. She erupted into squealing laughter when her captor decided to slide his fingers swiftly along her soles and under her toes.
NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHHHH
Zasalamel was amused by her renewed struggling. Her feet flailed as much as her bonds allowed, but he would just grip her toes to hold them still as he raked his fingers up and down her soles. To increase her laughter, he would pull her toes back and wiggle his fingertips under them. This area seemed the most ticklish on her feet, and when he poked a wet paintbrush here, she went into even further hysterics.
Ivy’s sides began to hurt from so much laughter. Surely, this was the pain Zasalamel had mentioned earlier. Her body was sending confusing signals of both ticklishness and arousal as her feet were titillated. As if sensing her growing fatigue, her tormentor stopped to give her another break, but this was abruptly ended with the sensation of something warm and wet along her soles. As the feeling slithered around her wriggling toes, she could tell that Zasalamel was licking her feet. As he sucked and nibbled each toe, she let out several yearning moans.
The African warrior intensified the torture of this experience by running his teeth down her slippery soles. Ivy howled in laughter as Zasalamel nibbled the balls of her feet, her arches, and heels.
AAAAAAAAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAHHH
The poor British girl bucked wildly on the table now. Because her captor was still holding her toes, her feet were held still, but her legs slapped against the cold marble. She felt him slide his fingers along her calves and behind her knees to get more shrieks from her. As his nimble fingers tantalized the backs of her thighs, he licked and kissed her inner thighs. Her arousal heightened when he rubbed her mound through her panties.
Zasalamel nibbled along the edge of her panties as he pinched her hips. He was rewarded with hearty laughter once again. When his hands slid along her sides and ribs, she shuddered and laughed louder. He brushed his hands against her back, which caused her to arch her hips and squeal as he unhooked her bra. He threw off the thin garment with his teeth and tickled her back as he kissed her supple breasts. Her alabaster skin contrasted nicely with her bright pink nipples.
Ivy gasped as her captor’s cold hands fondled her breasts. She sighed again as warm breath made her pointy nipples tingle. She shook passionately as his tongue flicked and encircled her nipples. He certainly knew how to keep her on edge. By the time he began nibbling and sucking each nipple, her panties were soaked.
OOOOOOOOOOHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHHUUUUUUUNNNNNHHHHH
Zasalamel felt his own libido take hold of him as observed Ivy’s moans and hip thrusts. Sweat was soaking her blindfold, her face and chest had become a pinkish shade, and he could smell her desire. He grasped her firm buttocks and pressed his face against the front of her panties. When her hips shook again, he knew she was ready. He ripped off her panties with his teeth and lashed his tongue against her moistened lips.
Ivy cried out in a breathtaking moan as his meaty tongue entered her. Her hips trembled as he twirled it inside her. Still squeezing her buttocks, Zasalamel guided her thrusts to match his tongue’s movements, and Ivy exploded with wetness when his tongue brushed against her clit. He sucked and nibbled the swollen nub to finally push her over the edge.
OOOOOOOOHHHHHHGGGAAAAAAAHHAHAAAAAHAHHHDDDD
Ivy lay very still on the table as she barely maintained consciousness. That was one of the best series of orgasms she had ever had. Still, a few worries lingered in the back of her mind. Yet, despite her usually dominant demeanor, this man had appealed to the deep submissive side within her. Just then, something warm and hard brushed against her shaven mound.
“I’m not done yet, you know. Perhaps, you’d prefer if I took off that blindfold now….”
TO BE CONTINUED….
For the uninitiated, here is a great link about Ivy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isabella_"Ivy"_Valentine
Here is a link on Zasalamel: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zasalamel
Elements of this story have been “borrowed” from the Project Soul website: http://www.soularchive.jp/
Soulcalibur – Part Six: Ivy vs. Zasalamel
It was a cold day at the Valentine Mansion. The end of the year was rapidly approaching as Ivy studied the arcane texts in front of her. She finally was starting to understand how to wield the Soul Calibur and destroy the Soul Edge with it. The only obstacle that stood in her way now was the fact that she did not know exactly where the Soul Calibur and Soul Edge were. As various thoughts flooded her mind, she began to nod off. Just before she fell asleep, the door to her lab opened. Standing at the entrance was a tall, African man in a white robe marked with cryptic symbols.
“Who are you?” Ivy masked her surprise with a tone of disdain as she closed her most prized book.
“Did you read that?” The mysterious intruder’s voice was as cold as the winter air, and his accent sounded unusual, almost primordial.
For a few fleeting moments, they stared at each other in silence. Each of them seemed to size the other up. In a remarkably swift motion, Ivy grabbed her book, jumped up from her desk, and withdrew her sword.
The man just grinned grimly as he pulled a massive scythe seemingly out of thin air. Ivy had thought her sword would provide her with a considerable range advantage, but she was wrong.
Ivy made the first slash as the sword transformed into her trademark whip. The end of the blade swung dangerously close to the intruder’s face, but he knocked it away with his scythe. He returned her attack with a deadly swipe near her neck that she narrowly dodged. Back and forth, the combat ensued between these evenly matched warriors. With each attack, a chair, desk, or bookshelf would fall prey to the destructive power of both combatants’ weapons.
Yet, Ivy slowly began to realize that her enemy was gaining the upper hand. For some strange reason, it was taking her more effort than usual to transform and control her sword-whip. She suspected that her opponent was using some sort of magic to hinder her sword’s abilities. After the man slipped a hard thrust with the butt of his scythe past her defenses, Ivy was thrown backwards against the floor. She quickly got up from her fall but winced in pain from the resulting wound inflicted on her shoulder.
She noticed a few moments too late that she wasn’t holding her book any longer. The African man was now balancing the book in his outstretched hand.
“This is a mistake from my past. The world no longer needs this….” The book was instantly engulfed in flames that seemed to emanate from his hand.
Ivy gasped and stared in utter horror as the primary source of months of her research was completely destroyed right in front of her. The man dropped the burning book to the floor, and when it shattered into burning ashes, the flames spread fiercely across the room. A wall of flame effectively separated her from this intruder as he turned to leave.
“STOP!!!” Ivy roared in anger.
“If you wish to learn everything about the cursed sword and the spirit sword, then follow the knight you know so well….” He turned to leave yet again.
Before even committing these words to memory, Ivy’s rage took hold of her. How could this man enter her home, destroy her research and her lab, and expect to leave unscathed? She ran forward and jumped the flames in just enough time to catch a glimpse of the man running out of the doorway. She pursued him at a full sprint, and when she turned to look down the hallway, he was almost at the door to the stairway. This man was amazingly fast, thought Ivy.
The intruder heard the sound of Ivy’s heels against the carpeted floor of the hallway and glanced at her before looking down the spiral stairway. After a moment of hesitation, he leapt from the railing.
Ivy had almost caught up with the man, when she saw him flip over the railing. She ran up to the edge and looked down. Miraculously, he landed with a roll, and broke into a run yet again. Time was running out, and if he made it to the front double doors, she knew she’d probably lose him outside. Instinctively, she looked up at the chandelier nearest to her.
The double doors were looming just ahead of the man as he continued running. However, the sound of clinking glass startled him. He turned around just in time to see Ivy swinging from her sword-whip attached to the chandelier. At the peak of her swing, her whip let go of the chandelier, and she came flying down towards him with her sword pointed right at him.
“AAAAAHHH!!!!” Ivy screamed as she prepared to impale her enemy. Unfortunately, he had enough time to strike her sword from her while he dodged her body. She hit the floor in a violent thump that sent her somersaulting against the front doors. Darkness clouded her senses as she saw her enemy approaching her, and the faint smell of smoke hung in the air.
Ivy awoke to the feel of cold water upon her face and chest. She opened her eyes, but she still could not see anything. She had been blindfolded, and when she tried to sit up, she discovered that she was bound spread-eagle to a table. The sound of dripping water could be heard in the distance, and the cold air of the room brushed against her pale skin. She was only wearing her bikini undergarments.
“I see that you’re awake now.” The ominous voice of her enemy reverberated throughout the room.
“Who in the bloody hell are you?!” Ivy was deeply fearful of what this man might subject her to, but she could only hope her ferocity would deter him.
“I’m Zasalamel.”
Ivy froze in fear. That was the name of the original author of the book she had just read. But this couldn’t be him: the book she had read was a one thousand year old translation of a text that was originally written around the time of Ancient Nubia.
“I know what you’re thinking. How could a man several millennia old still be alive? The answer is reincarnation. However, I must warn you…. Immortality is not as nice as it sounds.”
For the moment, Ivy assumed that this man was truly insane, but she had more pressing matters now. She had to find a way out of these bonds.
“You’re probably wondering where you are now. Take a guess….”
“In the backroom of Vauxhall, I suppose.”
“Oh… you’re comedic. I like that….” Zasalamel leaned close to Ivy and spoke in a low whisper. “Actually, we’re in the dungeon beneath your mansion. It appears that the original owners had some peculiar interests.”
“Don’t be absurd! My family has owned this estate for generations, and we have no dungeon!”
“Well then, perhaps, your ancestors had a darker side to them than you realized. Of course, I know that your real parents have been dead for over 20 years.”
Ivy froze again. How could he know so much about her? She had never seen this man before today, but somehow, he even knew her darkest secrets (and a few things she was unaware of).
“Another gift of my immortal state is telepathy. So when I said that I knew what you’re thinking, I was being literal.” Zasalamel laughed menacingly.
Ivy was growing even more uncomfortable with her situation. If what he was saying was true, then she was at a supreme disadvantage against this man. Of course, there still was the possibility that he was utterly nuts, which was hardly better. As she struggled against her bonds again, she felt a cold, wet sensation on her stomach that caused her to shudder.
“As I said earlier, I like how you are comedic. In fact, there will be plenty of time for you to laugh tonight.”
Ivy began to side more with the insanity possibility at these words, but another thought occurred to her. “So, you said we’re in the basement of my mansion, correct?”
“Yes, and I have already put out the fire in your study.”
Ivy grunted in annoyance as cold droplets of water ran along her navel. Maybe he really was a telepath, since she had been wondering about the fire. Then again, the phrasing of her question could have easily led him to that topic. Before she could contemplate this further, cold fingers goosed her delicate ribs.
WWUUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAHHHHH
Zasalamel smiled at the spastic reactions he was getting from Ivy. She seemed as ticklish as he was hoping for, and her stomach proved to be just as vulnerable as her ribs. He continued groping her ribs as he slid an ice cube along her quivering stomach with his teeth and tongue. She was bucking wildly against the table, but the bonds held her wrists and ankles firmly.
Ivy squinted her eyes shut as laughter flowed heartily from her. She had never known she was this ticklish; her lovers had been interested in sharing pain, but never tickling. Just as she was beginning to adjust to this torture, Zasalamel’s slippery fingers slid into her shaved pits. Her laughter became shrill squeals.
HHHHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHHH
Zasalamel was enjoying every minute of making his victim squirm. He kept stroking her pits as he moistened her bra with the ice cube. When the imprints of Ivy’s erect nipples were visible through the thin cloth, he let the ice cube slip into her cleavage. She shrieked at this cold touch.
Ivy desperately tried to twist her chest enough to throw the ice cube from her cleavage, but it was no use. The ice against her cleavage was chilling, but when her aggressor had rubbed it against her nipples, she moaned longingly. She groaned in pain when he pulled her hair to force her head back. As he held her in this position, she felt him lick and kiss her sensitive neck. Past lovers had put her through this, and so the pleasure mixed with pain aroused her more. As he sucked and softly bit her neck several times, she moaned loudly, and her hips twitched.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNHHHHHH
Zasalamel was very pleased with what he was hearing. He still held onto her hair as he leaned over to one of her ears. “I see that you like pain,” he whispered as he licked and nibbled the edge of her ear. Ivy silently mouthed the word “yes” with a nervous smile. “As you will soon discover, tickling can be a form of pain unto itself.” He let go of her hair and walked away from the table for a moment.
Despite her predicament, Ivy was very turned on by all this suspense. Whether she liked it or not, danger could drive her wild under the proper circumstances. She tried to cool down her libido, however, because she still wanted to get out of this somehow. Suddenly, she felt light, wispy touches along her bare soles.
Even though she wore high-heeled boots most of the time, Ivy took good care of her feet. She would get pedicures regularly to prevent getting calluses from her rigid footwear. Unfortunately, this also meant her soft soles were quite sensitive. Ivy curled her toes reflexively as the touches continued to tease her. Since she was blindfolded, she was unable to anticipate his moves.
Zasalamel stood at the foot of the table. His victim’s feet were flexing with each brush of the feather dusters. Ivy’s soles were pale and wrinkly, and her round toes wriggled each time the feathers would sneak under and between them. Her toenails were painted a deep purple. He twirled the dusters up and down her soles for greater effect.
Ivy bit her lip and tried to muffle her giggles. Her feet twitched futilely as the dusters tormented her sensitive soles. After a few minutes of this, the dusters stopped. Ivy sighed in hope that her captor would give her a rest. Only seconds later, she felt the familiar touch of cold fingers fondling the tops and soles of her feet. His thumbs softly rubbed her heels and arches.
Zasalamel elicited several coos from his victim as he massaged her tender soles. He gently rubbed her toes and watched as her breathing grew deeper and slower. A pleasant smile spread across Ivy’s face as the African stroked her ankles. He wiggled his fingers slowly across her soles to make her giggle and curl her toes again.
Though his touches were ticklish, Ivy also found this stimulation of her feet rather arousing. She had endured a brief session of bastinado before, but no lover had bothered to tickle her feet. She never would have guessed that her feet were an erogenous zone for her, or that tickling them would turn her on. She erupted into squealing laughter when her captor decided to slide his fingers swiftly along her soles and under her toes.
NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHHHH
Zasalamel was amused by her renewed struggling. Her feet flailed as much as her bonds allowed, but he would just grip her toes to hold them still as he raked his fingers up and down her soles. To increase her laughter, he would pull her toes back and wiggle his fingertips under them. This area seemed the most ticklish on her feet, and when he poked a wet paintbrush here, she went into even further hysterics.
Ivy’s sides began to hurt from so much laughter. Surely, this was the pain Zasalamel had mentioned earlier. Her body was sending confusing signals of both ticklishness and arousal as her feet were titillated. As if sensing her growing fatigue, her tormentor stopped to give her another break, but this was abruptly ended with the sensation of something warm and wet along her soles. As the feeling slithered around her wriggling toes, she could tell that Zasalamel was licking her feet. As he sucked and nibbled each toe, she let out several yearning moans.
The African warrior intensified the torture of this experience by running his teeth down her slippery soles. Ivy howled in laughter as Zasalamel nibbled the balls of her feet, her arches, and heels.
AAAAAAAAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAHHH
The poor British girl bucked wildly on the table now. Because her captor was still holding her toes, her feet were held still, but her legs slapped against the cold marble. She felt him slide his fingers along her calves and behind her knees to get more shrieks from her. As his nimble fingers tantalized the backs of her thighs, he licked and kissed her inner thighs. Her arousal heightened when he rubbed her mound through her panties.
Zasalamel nibbled along the edge of her panties as he pinched her hips. He was rewarded with hearty laughter once again. When his hands slid along her sides and ribs, she shuddered and laughed louder. He brushed his hands against her back, which caused her to arch her hips and squeal as he unhooked her bra. He threw off the thin garment with his teeth and tickled her back as he kissed her supple breasts. Her alabaster skin contrasted nicely with her bright pink nipples.
Ivy gasped as her captor’s cold hands fondled her breasts. She sighed again as warm breath made her pointy nipples tingle. She shook passionately as his tongue flicked and encircled her nipples. He certainly knew how to keep her on edge. By the time he began nibbling and sucking each nipple, her panties were soaked.
OOOOOOOOOOHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHHUUUUUUUNNNNNHHHHH
Zasalamel felt his own libido take hold of him as observed Ivy’s moans and hip thrusts. Sweat was soaking her blindfold, her face and chest had become a pinkish shade, and he could smell her desire. He grasped her firm buttocks and pressed his face against the front of her panties. When her hips shook again, he knew she was ready. He ripped off her panties with his teeth and lashed his tongue against her moistened lips.
Ivy cried out in a breathtaking moan as his meaty tongue entered her. Her hips trembled as he twirled it inside her. Still squeezing her buttocks, Zasalamel guided her thrusts to match his tongue’s movements, and Ivy exploded with wetness when his tongue brushed against her clit. He sucked and nibbled the swollen nub to finally push her over the edge.
OOOOOOOOHHHHHHGGGAAAAAAAHHAHAAAAAHAHHHDDDD
Ivy lay very still on the table as she barely maintained consciousness. That was one of the best series of orgasms she had ever had. Still, a few worries lingered in the back of her mind. Yet, despite her usually dominant demeanor, this man had appealed to the deep submissive side within her. Just then, something warm and hard brushed against her shaven mound.
“I’m not done yet, you know. Perhaps, you’d prefer if I took off that blindfold now….”
TO BE CONTINUED….
