Priscilla carefully wiped down the window in front of her. She was careful to make certain not a single smudge remained with practiced efficiency and did so as quickly as she could manage. This room was the absolute last one she wanted to be in. It took all of her willpower to keep from trembling in fear at the muffled screams coming from the bed behind her. With horrified curiosity she glanced over her shoulder and immediately regretted doing so. Her stomach turned at the sight.
A girl she’d never seen before, her master’s newest wife, was tied spread eagle to the bed. The young woman’s face was twisted in an expression of ticklish agony with tears streaming down her face through eyes tightly squeezed shut. A man and 4 women were responsible for her suffering. The man, her master, was gagging her by shoving his rock-hard penis deep into her mouth and enjoying feeling her anguished screams transmitted directly into his member. The girl’s stomach must be her weak spot since 2 of the women were scrabbling their nails across it with wild abandon. Priscilla could empathize with the desperation on the women’s faces, they were 2 of the master’s wives. If they failed to impress upon the master that this new girl was his best tickle toy yet they were under threat of becoming the target of his sadistic pastimes next.
The 26-year-old, 5’4”, busty albino maid shuddered in horror at the sight of the final 2 women attending to the new wife’s feet and quickly looked away. It was the twins. The only thing differentiating the lithe, 5’1”, young women with sharp faces and long brown hair were their dresses and ways they tortured the girl in front of them. One stood scrubbing their victim’s foot with a hairbrush in a simple blue dress while the other wore a similar purple one and was putting her nails and a feather to use with lighter teasing on the opposite sole. The master’s unending sadism had clearly been inherited by his daughters a hundred-fold. There wasn’t a woman in the village who wasn’t terrified of the girls. While their father was content to get his kicks taking women he fancied as his wives and torturing them into submission, the twins’ appetite for suffering was unending. The maids of the lord’s mansion lived in constant fear of catching their attention. Priscilla herself had been fortunate enough to never have given them reason to recognize that she exists, but it had been hammered into her what happened to those who did. Every other day she had trouble getting sleep after returning to the servant’s house to find one of the bunks vacant and being forced to spend the night listening to her coworker’s endless frenzied laughter reverberate throughout the building.
Priscilla refused to let her fear take control of her. She methodically cleaned every last piece of furniture until it was spotless before making her way out of the room. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she broke out in a run to put as much distance between herself and the sound of the new wife’s screams as she could. She didn’t stop until she crossed from the east wing all the way to the west wing where it was quiet. The young woman hid in one of the unused guest rooms where she crouched holding her head in fear.
“I want out… let me out…” she moaned. Priscilla had never wanted to be here. As a prisoner of war when the lord of this fiefdom had subjugated one of his neighbors, she had initially believed herself to be lucky that she’d gotten employed as a maid rather than meet a more unfortunate fate at the soldiers’ hands like many of the other women had. Having found out what exactly happens to women at the mansion made her want to run away, to set off into the surrounding woods during the night in an attempt to escape unnoticed. It was the fear of being caught and handed off to the twins that kept her from trying it. Priscilla hated being tickled. Being tied up and tickled was the worst form of torture she was capable of imagining. The idea of having those sadists punish her like that until every last drop of defiance had been driven out of her kept her paralyzed with fear.
The young maid took a deep breath to steady herself, wiped away the forming tears, and stood up. She had a job to complete. The less trouble she caused the better chance she had of not being tortured. And if she kept that up, she’d some day find an opportunity to flee to the safety of another land. The thought of one day getting to peacefully run her own bakery without having to live in constant fear of being tickled into insanity was what kept her going day to day. She made certain that the white hair that came half-way down her neck hadn’t been too disturbed in her flight in the reflection of a window and forced herself to make her way back to the east wing.
Priscilla made her way room to room cleaning. A hope was growing in her heart that she’d successfully made it through another day without drawing attention to herself, only to have it dashed by the sight of the lord standing in the main hall flanked by 2 guards.
The thin, middle aged ex-knight dressed in a well-fitting suit could have easily passed as a stately figure to be trusted if Priscilla didn’t know his true nature. With dark brown hair greying around the edges, cheeks creased by laugh lines, and a jovial look in his eye, she had initially been overjoyed to have been taken in by such a handsome, kindhearted gentleman. Having spent months witnessing the horrific way he treated women who caught his fancy had thoroughly destroyed that image.
“You there, servant. Hold,” he commanded as she tried to slip past him with her head bowed. Priscilla froze. He gently cupped her face in his calloused hand. He turned her head this way and that while looking her over. The albino maid had the unsettling impression that this is what cattle must feel like. “You’re quite beautiful, aren’t you? I must apologize for not noticing it sooner. I only noticed seeing how gracefully you moved while cleaning the room we were… passing the time in. Come, join me.” The lord turned and began walking towards the great stairs dominating the middle of the main hall. Priscilla stood rooted to her spot in fear. The guards roughly pushed her forward to get her moving. She stiffly followed him up the stairs and into one of the side rooms.
She tried to turn and make a run for it upon seeing what was in the room. The twins were standing next to a pair of open stocks. A pair of manacles were hanging from a post installed behind the chair. The guards roughly grabbed her and threw her onto the ground in response to her attempt to flee. She looked up in terror at her master, who was looking down on her with a disarmingly kind smile.
“Come now, there’s no need to be scared. All we wish is to have some fun together,” he cooed. Priscilla scrambled on her hands and knees to prostrate herself before him.
“Please… please master, let me go. I don’t know what I did to earn your ire, but please, allow me to make it up to you someway else. Not this. Anything but this!” she begged. The lord made a show of sadly shaking his head and sighing. His eyes were crinkled with amusement.
“Such little faith in me! All I wished for was a fun night getting to know you better. Is it truly so wrong to celebrate a young woman of such exceptional beauty? Well, if that’s how it has to be… Strip.” he commanded. “Strip for us and your insubordination will be forgiven. And not another peep out of you until I command it.” Priscilla slowly stood up. With one last fearful glance at the twins, she began to disrobe. Her maid uniform, underwear, and slippers were left in a pile on the floor leaving her in only her headdress, garter belt, and stockings. Her attempts to remove those had been met with a disapproving shake of her master’s head. Her skin crawled under the wolfish ways her master, the guards, and the twins drank in the sight of her naked body.
“Come. Here now.” Priscilla felt the slender hands of the twins take hers and lead her over to the stocks. She wanted to cry. She wanted to run screaming from the room. But with the guards standing beside the door she didn’t have any hope of escape. Instead, she allowed herself to be seated in the chair where her feet were locked in stock and her wrists bound above her head in the manacles. She shook at the sight of the twins taking seat right at her stockinged feet.
“Please…” she pleaded one final time. Anger flashed across the lord’s face. He grabbed a ball-gag lying on a nearby table, roughly grabbed her jaw to pry it open, and shoved the gag in.
“I told you not to speak! I will not stand for disobedience from some lowly whore,” he snarled. He motioned to the twins with his head. “Teach her some respect.”
“HeheheheHAHAHAHAahahaheheheHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Despite her best efforts, Priscilla couldn’t contain the giggling caused by the twins gently stroking their long nails down her stocking-clad soles. They carefully paid attention to the cadence of her laughter as they used one hand to hold the foot still while applying the 5 nails on the other hands to gently tracing up and down without breaking contact with her foot. Once they identified particularly sensitive spots, they dedicated their attacks to those areas. Their nails would scratch against a tender spot beneath the balls of her feet, jump up to dig in at the base of her toes, then swoop down against the outside edges of her soles. Priscilla’s giggling transformed to squeals and full-blown laughter into her gag.
The lord watched his daughters make her squeal and jump in the chair for a couple minutes before joining in. Priscilla’s laughter grew more frenzied feeling rough, calloused fingers reach around her massive breasts to ply at her ribs. The lord was no stranger to making women suffer. He worked in between bones in search of tender spots. At random points he’d unexpectedly jump his fingers up to shake in her armpits or down to stroke and squeeze her sides.
Priscilla was in hysterics. She screamed into her gag in agony from the horrible waves of tickling assaulting her. Her mind was quickly going to shambles. She couldn’t help but try to predict how her tormentors were going to tickle her next. When she thought the twins were going to tickle her toes, they instead assaulted her arches. Expecting her master to tickle her sides earned her fingers drawing around the outside edges of her armpits. Her every expectation was dashed in favor of what she was expecting least. The complete inability to prepare herself for how their fingers were going to attack her next created an overwhelming sense of helplessness the likes of which she’d never experienced.
After nearly 20 minutes of punishment she received a break. She watched in horror as she sat wheezing for breath through her gag as her master dropped his trousers to reveal his erect penis. The twins tore apart her stockings to leave her feet bare, then lathered her soles up with baby oil while holding nail brushes. Her master shoved his throbbing member in between her breasts and began to squeeze her breasts against it with his hands.
“HAHAHAHAHANOOOOOO! MEHAHAHAHASHEEE! PLE SHTOOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Priscilla didn’t have time to be revolted when a stream of semen soon erupted to spray over her face. She was too busy begging and screaming into her gag from the twins seizing her toes to immobilize them and begin deftly brushing the tips of her toes with the brushes. The soft bristles excited the hyper-sensitive nerve endings on the top of her toes. It was like bolts of lightning were being sent traveling up her legs and chest to come fry her brain. She screamed and shook, with her struggles only serving to excite her master into enjoying a second and third breastjob.
The twins moved their brushes down to scrub the whole of her toes. Finished pleasuring himself, her lord began to amuse himself by grabbing a feather to flick it against the nipple of her right breast. His other hand was put to work spidering over her other soft, shaking, milky white breast. It was too intense for Priscilla to handle. She went completely berserk. Screams as loud as her lungs could handle continued to be forced out of her until she was completely out of air, at which point she devolved into shaking with silent laughter. Her chest and face were on fire with the pain of trying to express just how much she was suffering. It took nearly 30 seconds for the pain of not being able to breath to overcome her need to laugh. What little air she managed to get was immediately forced out of her lungs again. Her bladder was turning itself inside out to force out every last drop of pee in order to show her torturers that she truly couldn’t take it anymore.
After nearly an hour of non-stop torture, where her master made certain to explore every square centimeter of her upperbody and the twins poked and prodded everything from her toes up to her hips, the tickling finally stopped. They had stopped not out of mercy, but in response to her almost blacking out. Even the mercy of unconsciousness was taken away from her. They gave her a couple minutes to catch her breath before resuming the torture.
This time the twins took care of her upperbody. One stood behind her to reach around and grab handfuls of her soft breasts. The other was sitting to her side reaching down to have slender fingers explore against her pussy walls. Her lord had tied back her toes with pieces of string so he was free to grab 2 hairbrushes by the base of the handles and madly scrub them up and down her oiled feet. She was forced to orgasm over and over again and experience having every single one taken away by her lord’s intense foot tickling. Priscilla was left broken, sobbing in misery at her predicament when they next stopped.
Her lord and the twins continued to play with her all throughout the night. Every time she was about to pass out, they’d stop to allow her to rest so they could continue tickling. When she did fall unconscious, she was forced back awake with smelling salts to prevent her from escaping further punishment. They continued to torture her until she was truly so exhausted that they couldn’t keep her awake no matter how hard they tried.
----
The first thing Priscilla felt when she came to was the cold, damp air. She realized with a start that she was bound spread eagle, nude to a bondage rack in what appeared to be the dungeons. A ball-gag was fit into her mouth. Her heart was gripped with icy fear. All around her were other naked women similarly bound and gagged to various bondage devices. Every last one of them had the vacant look of having been tortured until not a single shred of their minds remained. The stench of stale urine filled the air. Priscilla jumped at the sound of a nearby door opening, then screamed in fear into her gag when she realized who had opened it. It was the twins, naked as the day they were born and sporting smiles that chilled her to the bone. She finally realized where she was. It was the twins’ personal torture chamber. It was the rumored secret room below the mansion spoken of in hushed whispers as a place no woman had ever returned from. Priscilla was terrified by the realization that this place was real and what it meant for her to be tied up in it.
“Wakey wakey, sleepy head!” they sang in unison. The twins advanced towards her threateningly holding feathers in front of them.
“You see, we had so much fun tickling you that we absolutely had to have you to ourselves,” one of them said.
“Yes, it’d be a shame to allow Father to take you as his bride. Then we wouldn’t get to play with you as much as we wanted. We couldn’t take that chance,” chimed in the other.
“And why would we ever allow such a ticklish treat as you the mercy of being able to sleep with a man in order to not be tickled anymore?” they finished together. Priscilla screamed, cried, and fought as hard as she could against her bonds in an attempt to escape. It was futile. The stiff feathers made contact with her nipples and began to teasingly flick against them no matter how she twisted to avoid it. 2 sets of slim fingers caressed around her womanhood.
“We’re going to have so much fun together!”
Continued in Part 2
A girl she’d never seen before, her master’s newest wife, was tied spread eagle to the bed. The young woman’s face was twisted in an expression of ticklish agony with tears streaming down her face through eyes tightly squeezed shut. A man and 4 women were responsible for her suffering. The man, her master, was gagging her by shoving his rock-hard penis deep into her mouth and enjoying feeling her anguished screams transmitted directly into his member. The girl’s stomach must be her weak spot since 2 of the women were scrabbling their nails across it with wild abandon. Priscilla could empathize with the desperation on the women’s faces, they were 2 of the master’s wives. If they failed to impress upon the master that this new girl was his best tickle toy yet they were under threat of becoming the target of his sadistic pastimes next.
The 26-year-old, 5’4”, busty albino maid shuddered in horror at the sight of the final 2 women attending to the new wife’s feet and quickly looked away. It was the twins. The only thing differentiating the lithe, 5’1”, young women with sharp faces and long brown hair were their dresses and ways they tortured the girl in front of them. One stood scrubbing their victim’s foot with a hairbrush in a simple blue dress while the other wore a similar purple one and was putting her nails and a feather to use with lighter teasing on the opposite sole. The master’s unending sadism had clearly been inherited by his daughters a hundred-fold. There wasn’t a woman in the village who wasn’t terrified of the girls. While their father was content to get his kicks taking women he fancied as his wives and torturing them into submission, the twins’ appetite for suffering was unending. The maids of the lord’s mansion lived in constant fear of catching their attention. Priscilla herself had been fortunate enough to never have given them reason to recognize that she exists, but it had been hammered into her what happened to those who did. Every other day she had trouble getting sleep after returning to the servant’s house to find one of the bunks vacant and being forced to spend the night listening to her coworker’s endless frenzied laughter reverberate throughout the building.
Priscilla refused to let her fear take control of her. She methodically cleaned every last piece of furniture until it was spotless before making her way out of the room. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she broke out in a run to put as much distance between herself and the sound of the new wife’s screams as she could. She didn’t stop until she crossed from the east wing all the way to the west wing where it was quiet. The young woman hid in one of the unused guest rooms where she crouched holding her head in fear.
“I want out… let me out…” she moaned. Priscilla had never wanted to be here. As a prisoner of war when the lord of this fiefdom had subjugated one of his neighbors, she had initially believed herself to be lucky that she’d gotten employed as a maid rather than meet a more unfortunate fate at the soldiers’ hands like many of the other women had. Having found out what exactly happens to women at the mansion made her want to run away, to set off into the surrounding woods during the night in an attempt to escape unnoticed. It was the fear of being caught and handed off to the twins that kept her from trying it. Priscilla hated being tickled. Being tied up and tickled was the worst form of torture she was capable of imagining. The idea of having those sadists punish her like that until every last drop of defiance had been driven out of her kept her paralyzed with fear.
The young maid took a deep breath to steady herself, wiped away the forming tears, and stood up. She had a job to complete. The less trouble she caused the better chance she had of not being tortured. And if she kept that up, she’d some day find an opportunity to flee to the safety of another land. The thought of one day getting to peacefully run her own bakery without having to live in constant fear of being tickled into insanity was what kept her going day to day. She made certain that the white hair that came half-way down her neck hadn’t been too disturbed in her flight in the reflection of a window and forced herself to make her way back to the east wing.
Priscilla made her way room to room cleaning. A hope was growing in her heart that she’d successfully made it through another day without drawing attention to herself, only to have it dashed by the sight of the lord standing in the main hall flanked by 2 guards.
The thin, middle aged ex-knight dressed in a well-fitting suit could have easily passed as a stately figure to be trusted if Priscilla didn’t know his true nature. With dark brown hair greying around the edges, cheeks creased by laugh lines, and a jovial look in his eye, she had initially been overjoyed to have been taken in by such a handsome, kindhearted gentleman. Having spent months witnessing the horrific way he treated women who caught his fancy had thoroughly destroyed that image.
“You there, servant. Hold,” he commanded as she tried to slip past him with her head bowed. Priscilla froze. He gently cupped her face in his calloused hand. He turned her head this way and that while looking her over. The albino maid had the unsettling impression that this is what cattle must feel like. “You’re quite beautiful, aren’t you? I must apologize for not noticing it sooner. I only noticed seeing how gracefully you moved while cleaning the room we were… passing the time in. Come, join me.” The lord turned and began walking towards the great stairs dominating the middle of the main hall. Priscilla stood rooted to her spot in fear. The guards roughly pushed her forward to get her moving. She stiffly followed him up the stairs and into one of the side rooms.
She tried to turn and make a run for it upon seeing what was in the room. The twins were standing next to a pair of open stocks. A pair of manacles were hanging from a post installed behind the chair. The guards roughly grabbed her and threw her onto the ground in response to her attempt to flee. She looked up in terror at her master, who was looking down on her with a disarmingly kind smile.
“Come now, there’s no need to be scared. All we wish is to have some fun together,” he cooed. Priscilla scrambled on her hands and knees to prostrate herself before him.
“Please… please master, let me go. I don’t know what I did to earn your ire, but please, allow me to make it up to you someway else. Not this. Anything but this!” she begged. The lord made a show of sadly shaking his head and sighing. His eyes were crinkled with amusement.
“Such little faith in me! All I wished for was a fun night getting to know you better. Is it truly so wrong to celebrate a young woman of such exceptional beauty? Well, if that’s how it has to be… Strip.” he commanded. “Strip for us and your insubordination will be forgiven. And not another peep out of you until I command it.” Priscilla slowly stood up. With one last fearful glance at the twins, she began to disrobe. Her maid uniform, underwear, and slippers were left in a pile on the floor leaving her in only her headdress, garter belt, and stockings. Her attempts to remove those had been met with a disapproving shake of her master’s head. Her skin crawled under the wolfish ways her master, the guards, and the twins drank in the sight of her naked body.
“Come. Here now.” Priscilla felt the slender hands of the twins take hers and lead her over to the stocks. She wanted to cry. She wanted to run screaming from the room. But with the guards standing beside the door she didn’t have any hope of escape. Instead, she allowed herself to be seated in the chair where her feet were locked in stock and her wrists bound above her head in the manacles. She shook at the sight of the twins taking seat right at her stockinged feet.
“Please…” she pleaded one final time. Anger flashed across the lord’s face. He grabbed a ball-gag lying on a nearby table, roughly grabbed her jaw to pry it open, and shoved the gag in.
“I told you not to speak! I will not stand for disobedience from some lowly whore,” he snarled. He motioned to the twins with his head. “Teach her some respect.”
“HeheheheHAHAHAHAahahaheheheHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Despite her best efforts, Priscilla couldn’t contain the giggling caused by the twins gently stroking their long nails down her stocking-clad soles. They carefully paid attention to the cadence of her laughter as they used one hand to hold the foot still while applying the 5 nails on the other hands to gently tracing up and down without breaking contact with her foot. Once they identified particularly sensitive spots, they dedicated their attacks to those areas. Their nails would scratch against a tender spot beneath the balls of her feet, jump up to dig in at the base of her toes, then swoop down against the outside edges of her soles. Priscilla’s giggling transformed to squeals and full-blown laughter into her gag.
The lord watched his daughters make her squeal and jump in the chair for a couple minutes before joining in. Priscilla’s laughter grew more frenzied feeling rough, calloused fingers reach around her massive breasts to ply at her ribs. The lord was no stranger to making women suffer. He worked in between bones in search of tender spots. At random points he’d unexpectedly jump his fingers up to shake in her armpits or down to stroke and squeeze her sides.
Priscilla was in hysterics. She screamed into her gag in agony from the horrible waves of tickling assaulting her. Her mind was quickly going to shambles. She couldn’t help but try to predict how her tormentors were going to tickle her next. When she thought the twins were going to tickle her toes, they instead assaulted her arches. Expecting her master to tickle her sides earned her fingers drawing around the outside edges of her armpits. Her every expectation was dashed in favor of what she was expecting least. The complete inability to prepare herself for how their fingers were going to attack her next created an overwhelming sense of helplessness the likes of which she’d never experienced.
After nearly 20 minutes of punishment she received a break. She watched in horror as she sat wheezing for breath through her gag as her master dropped his trousers to reveal his erect penis. The twins tore apart her stockings to leave her feet bare, then lathered her soles up with baby oil while holding nail brushes. Her master shoved his throbbing member in between her breasts and began to squeeze her breasts against it with his hands.
“HAHAHAHAHANOOOOOO! MEHAHAHAHASHEEE! PLE SHTOOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Priscilla didn’t have time to be revolted when a stream of semen soon erupted to spray over her face. She was too busy begging and screaming into her gag from the twins seizing her toes to immobilize them and begin deftly brushing the tips of her toes with the brushes. The soft bristles excited the hyper-sensitive nerve endings on the top of her toes. It was like bolts of lightning were being sent traveling up her legs and chest to come fry her brain. She screamed and shook, with her struggles only serving to excite her master into enjoying a second and third breastjob.
The twins moved their brushes down to scrub the whole of her toes. Finished pleasuring himself, her lord began to amuse himself by grabbing a feather to flick it against the nipple of her right breast. His other hand was put to work spidering over her other soft, shaking, milky white breast. It was too intense for Priscilla to handle. She went completely berserk. Screams as loud as her lungs could handle continued to be forced out of her until she was completely out of air, at which point she devolved into shaking with silent laughter. Her chest and face were on fire with the pain of trying to express just how much she was suffering. It took nearly 30 seconds for the pain of not being able to breath to overcome her need to laugh. What little air she managed to get was immediately forced out of her lungs again. Her bladder was turning itself inside out to force out every last drop of pee in order to show her torturers that she truly couldn’t take it anymore.
After nearly an hour of non-stop torture, where her master made certain to explore every square centimeter of her upperbody and the twins poked and prodded everything from her toes up to her hips, the tickling finally stopped. They had stopped not out of mercy, but in response to her almost blacking out. Even the mercy of unconsciousness was taken away from her. They gave her a couple minutes to catch her breath before resuming the torture.
This time the twins took care of her upperbody. One stood behind her to reach around and grab handfuls of her soft breasts. The other was sitting to her side reaching down to have slender fingers explore against her pussy walls. Her lord had tied back her toes with pieces of string so he was free to grab 2 hairbrushes by the base of the handles and madly scrub them up and down her oiled feet. She was forced to orgasm over and over again and experience having every single one taken away by her lord’s intense foot tickling. Priscilla was left broken, sobbing in misery at her predicament when they next stopped.
Her lord and the twins continued to play with her all throughout the night. Every time she was about to pass out, they’d stop to allow her to rest so they could continue tickling. When she did fall unconscious, she was forced back awake with smelling salts to prevent her from escaping further punishment. They continued to torture her until she was truly so exhausted that they couldn’t keep her awake no matter how hard they tried.
----
The first thing Priscilla felt when she came to was the cold, damp air. She realized with a start that she was bound spread eagle, nude to a bondage rack in what appeared to be the dungeons. A ball-gag was fit into her mouth. Her heart was gripped with icy fear. All around her were other naked women similarly bound and gagged to various bondage devices. Every last one of them had the vacant look of having been tortured until not a single shred of their minds remained. The stench of stale urine filled the air. Priscilla jumped at the sound of a nearby door opening, then screamed in fear into her gag when she realized who had opened it. It was the twins, naked as the day they were born and sporting smiles that chilled her to the bone. She finally realized where she was. It was the twins’ personal torture chamber. It was the rumored secret room below the mansion spoken of in hushed whispers as a place no woman had ever returned from. Priscilla was terrified by the realization that this place was real and what it meant for her to be tied up in it.
“Wakey wakey, sleepy head!” they sang in unison. The twins advanced towards her threateningly holding feathers in front of them.
“You see, we had so much fun tickling you that we absolutely had to have you to ourselves,” one of them said.
“Yes, it’d be a shame to allow Father to take you as his bride. Then we wouldn’t get to play with you as much as we wanted. We couldn’t take that chance,” chimed in the other.
“And why would we ever allow such a ticklish treat as you the mercy of being able to sleep with a man in order to not be tickled anymore?” they finished together. Priscilla screamed, cried, and fought as hard as she could against her bonds in an attempt to escape. It was futile. The stiff feathers made contact with her nipples and began to teasingly flick against them no matter how she twisted to avoid it. 2 sets of slim fingers caressed around her womanhood.
“We’re going to have so much fun together!”
Continued in Part 2
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