nytklee
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Chapter 2: The Cruel Tease
Victor’s heart hammered in his chest, the vibrator’s erratic pulses driving him to the brink as he shuffled toward Chad’s bed, the key to his handcuffs glinting tantalizingly under the pillow. His bound ankles and knees, cinched tight with leather belts, forced him to move in tiny, teetering steps, the four-inch heels wobbling beneath him. The itching powder in his high heels was a relentless torment, a prickling fire against his nylon-clad feet that made him twitch and squirm, each movement only intensifying the vibrator’s cruel teasing. His muffled moans, stifled by the red ball gag, echoed in the dim dorm room, his crimson lips stretched around it as he fought to stay focused. The French maid costume, short black satin dress, sheer thigh-high stockings and cascading blond wig, clung to his sweat-slicked skin, a perfect picture of debauched captivity.
He was inches from the pillow when the unmistakable jangle of keys and raucous laughter erupted outside the door. Victor froze, his eyes widening in panic. “No, no, no,” he thought, the words garbled into a desperate whimper behind the gag. Chad wasn’t supposed to be back yet, let alone with company.
No time to reach the key. Victor’s mind raced. He shuffled as fast as his bound ankles and knees allowed and dove into the closet, pulling the sliding door shut behind him. The cramped space smelled faintly of laundry detergent and old sneakers, but it was his only refuge. He pressed himself against the wall, heart pounding, the gag muffling his ragged breaths.
The door swung open, and a wave of drunken chatter flooded the room. Victor’s mind raced. He hadn’t expected Chad back so soon, let alone with a posse of half-drunk friends in tow.
“Yo, Chad, let’s keep this party going!” Oliver, in a cheap superhero costume, tossing an empty beer can onto Victor’s bed. “You got any more booze?”
“Check the mini fridge,” Chad said, flopping onto his bed. Maggie, dressed as a witch with a crooked hat, giggled and sprawled across the floor, pulling out her phone to blast music. Oliver started rummaging through the desk, tossing papers aside. Victor’s stomach churned. If they found him like this: bound, gagged, and dressed as a slutty maid, he’d never live it down.
He tried to stay still, but the vibrator surged again, a long, intense buzz that made his hips buck involuntarily. A muffled moan escaped the gag, and he clamped his lips around it, praying no one heard. The itching powder was driving him insane, his feet twitching uncontrollably in the heels, the nylon stockings amplifying every sensation. He was so close to the edge, his body screaming for release, but the relentless itch kept him tethered to torment, denying him the climax he craved. “Just stay quiet,” he thought, his mind a haze of desperation. “They’ll leave soon.”
“Yo, Chad, your dorm’s perfect for the after-party!” a deep voice boomed, followed by a chorus of giggles and clinking bottles. Victor’s blood ran cold as he recognized another voice, soft, sultry, and achingly familiar. It was Lila, his dream girl, a sophomore with raven hair, emerald eyes, and a wicked smile that had haunted his fantasies since orientation week. Her presence made his predicament both thrilling and mortifying.
“Yo, what’s this? Oliver's hand emerged with a familiar vial: Victor’s itching powder.‘Itching Powder?”He squinted at the label, then burst out laughing. “Who the hell keeps this in their dorm?”
Lila leaned forward, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, that’s evil. If someone put that in my shoes, I’d be done for. My feet are way too sensitive.” She kicked off her boots, wiggling her fishnet-covered toes, and Victor’s cock throbbed painfully against the vibrator’s relentless pulses. Her words sent a shiver through him, the image of her squirming under the powder’s torment almost too much to bear.
Maggie snatched the vial, shaking it. “Bet it’s Chad’s. Some prank shit, right?”
Chad shrugged, his smirk widening as he leaned back on his bed, hands behind his head. “Not mine, but I ain’t complaining. Finders keepers.” Victor’s stomach twisted. Chad knew damn well whose it was but was playing dumb, leaving Victor to stew in his humiliating trap.
Then Oliver’s eyes landed on something else on the desk: the remote for Victor’s vibrator. “What’s this? Some kinda… toy controller?” He pressed a button, and Victor stifled a moan as the vibrator surged to a high, pulsating rhythm, sending waves of torturous pleasure through his bound body. His hips bucked involuntarily, the itching powder making his feet writhe inside the heels. He bit down on the gag, desperate to stay silent, but a muffled whimper escaped.
“Did you hear that?” Lila’s head snapped toward the closet, her voice laced with curiosity. Victor’s heart stopped. “Something’s in there.”
Oliver, grinning like a predator, strode to the closet and yanked the door open. Victor’s world tilted as light flooded in, revealing him in all his debauched glory: the French maid dress rucked up to expose his stocking tops, the leather belts binding his legs, the handcuffs pinning his arms, and the gag stretching his crimson lips. His blond wig was askew, his face flushed with arousal and shame.
“Holy shit!” Oliver roared with laughter. Is that… a chick in a maid costume?”
Maggie clapped a hand over her mouth, giggling uncontrollably. “Is that… Victor? Oh my God, he’s dressed like a slutty maid!”
Lila’s eyes widened, then narrowed with a wicked, knowing smile. “Well, well, Victor. Didn’t know you had this side to you.”“You look… deliciously helpless.”
Victor’s muffled pleas were incoherent, his body trembling as the vibrator buzzed mercilessly, pushing him to the edge but never over. The itching powder was unbearable now, his feet twitching uncontrollably in the heels. He tried to speak, to beg, but the gag turned his words into pathetic moans.
“Yo, Chad, you sneaky bastard!” Oliver slurred, shoving Victor onto the bed, where he landed with a muffled yelp, his cuffed hands trapped behind him. “Hiding this kinky little maid for yourself, huh? Well, now you just get to watch!”
Maggie giggled, swaying as she clutched a vodka bottle. “Yeah, Chad, no hogging the fun! Let’s help this cutie untie himself, motivate him a little.” She brandished a feather from her costume, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Tickling’s the best way, right?”
Victor’s eyes widened, his muffled protests garbled as Oliver and Maggie descended. Oliver’s thick fingers dug into Victor’s ribs, skittering over the satin maid dress, while Maggie’s feather danced along his exposed collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin above his stockings. Victor thrashed, his laughter erupting in choked bursts through the gag, his body twitching helplessly against the leather belts binding his ankles and knees.
Lila, lounging on the bed’s edge in her tight black cat costume, zeroed in on Victor’s feet. Her emerald eyes gleamed as she slipped off his powdered high heels, revealing his nylon-clad soles, still dusted with the itching powder’s maddening residue. “Oh, you poor thing,” she purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. She dragged a manicured nail along his arch, slow and deliberate, watching him jolt. “This is how Catwoman tortures her victims, darling. Nice and slow, until you’re begging.”
Victor howled through the gag, his laughter a desperate, muffled cacophony as Lila’s nails scribbled across his soles, the nylon amplifying every ticklish sensation. The itching powder made it unbearable, his toes curling uselessly in the stockings. He twisted his body, trying to avoid her relentless fingers, but was careful not to kick too hard, terrified of hurting her. His hips bucked as the vibrator surged, pushing him to the edge, his muffled pleas,“Mmph! P-please!”, lost in the group’s laughter.
Chad sprawled on his bed, his smirk sharp as he watched the scene unfold, his eyes flicking between Victor’s writhing form and Lila’s predatory focus. He leaned forward, his hand brushing Lila’s right foot, where her fishnet tights left her toes exposed. His fingers grazed her sole, teasing the sensitive skin.
Lila squealed, jerking her foot away with a giggle. “Chad, you jerk!” she snapped, her voice playful but firm. “Sit back and watch, or I’ll tie you up next!” Her cheeks flushed, but she quickly turned her attention back to Victor, her nails resuming their merciless assault on his nylon feet. She traced circles around his heels, then skittered up to his toes, relishing his frantic laughter. “That’s it, little maid,” she cooed, “squirm for me.”
To be continue......
Victor’s heart hammered in his chest, the vibrator’s erratic pulses driving him to the brink as he shuffled toward Chad’s bed, the key to his handcuffs glinting tantalizingly under the pillow. His bound ankles and knees, cinched tight with leather belts, forced him to move in tiny, teetering steps, the four-inch heels wobbling beneath him. The itching powder in his high heels was a relentless torment, a prickling fire against his nylon-clad feet that made him twitch and squirm, each movement only intensifying the vibrator’s cruel teasing. His muffled moans, stifled by the red ball gag, echoed in the dim dorm room, his crimson lips stretched around it as he fought to stay focused. The French maid costume, short black satin dress, sheer thigh-high stockings and cascading blond wig, clung to his sweat-slicked skin, a perfect picture of debauched captivity.
He was inches from the pillow when the unmistakable jangle of keys and raucous laughter erupted outside the door. Victor froze, his eyes widening in panic. “No, no, no,” he thought, the words garbled into a desperate whimper behind the gag. Chad wasn’t supposed to be back yet, let alone with company.
No time to reach the key. Victor’s mind raced. He shuffled as fast as his bound ankles and knees allowed and dove into the closet, pulling the sliding door shut behind him. The cramped space smelled faintly of laundry detergent and old sneakers, but it was his only refuge. He pressed himself against the wall, heart pounding, the gag muffling his ragged breaths.
The door swung open, and a wave of drunken chatter flooded the room. Victor’s mind raced. He hadn’t expected Chad back so soon, let alone with a posse of half-drunk friends in tow.
“Yo, Chad, let’s keep this party going!” Oliver, in a cheap superhero costume, tossing an empty beer can onto Victor’s bed. “You got any more booze?”
“Check the mini fridge,” Chad said, flopping onto his bed. Maggie, dressed as a witch with a crooked hat, giggled and sprawled across the floor, pulling out her phone to blast music. Oliver started rummaging through the desk, tossing papers aside. Victor’s stomach churned. If they found him like this: bound, gagged, and dressed as a slutty maid, he’d never live it down.
He tried to stay still, but the vibrator surged again, a long, intense buzz that made his hips buck involuntarily. A muffled moan escaped the gag, and he clamped his lips around it, praying no one heard. The itching powder was driving him insane, his feet twitching uncontrollably in the heels, the nylon stockings amplifying every sensation. He was so close to the edge, his body screaming for release, but the relentless itch kept him tethered to torment, denying him the climax he craved. “Just stay quiet,” he thought, his mind a haze of desperation. “They’ll leave soon.”
“Yo, Chad, your dorm’s perfect for the after-party!” a deep voice boomed, followed by a chorus of giggles and clinking bottles. Victor’s blood ran cold as he recognized another voice, soft, sultry, and achingly familiar. It was Lila, his dream girl, a sophomore with raven hair, emerald eyes, and a wicked smile that had haunted his fantasies since orientation week. Her presence made his predicament both thrilling and mortifying.
“Yo, what’s this? Oliver's hand emerged with a familiar vial: Victor’s itching powder.‘Itching Powder?”He squinted at the label, then burst out laughing. “Who the hell keeps this in their dorm?”
Lila leaned forward, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, that’s evil. If someone put that in my shoes, I’d be done for. My feet are way too sensitive.” She kicked off her boots, wiggling her fishnet-covered toes, and Victor’s cock throbbed painfully against the vibrator’s relentless pulses. Her words sent a shiver through him, the image of her squirming under the powder’s torment almost too much to bear.
Maggie snatched the vial, shaking it. “Bet it’s Chad’s. Some prank shit, right?”
Chad shrugged, his smirk widening as he leaned back on his bed, hands behind his head. “Not mine, but I ain’t complaining. Finders keepers.” Victor’s stomach twisted. Chad knew damn well whose it was but was playing dumb, leaving Victor to stew in his humiliating trap.
Then Oliver’s eyes landed on something else on the desk: the remote for Victor’s vibrator. “What’s this? Some kinda… toy controller?” He pressed a button, and Victor stifled a moan as the vibrator surged to a high, pulsating rhythm, sending waves of torturous pleasure through his bound body. His hips bucked involuntarily, the itching powder making his feet writhe inside the heels. He bit down on the gag, desperate to stay silent, but a muffled whimper escaped.
“Did you hear that?” Lila’s head snapped toward the closet, her voice laced with curiosity. Victor’s heart stopped. “Something’s in there.”
Oliver, grinning like a predator, strode to the closet and yanked the door open. Victor’s world tilted as light flooded in, revealing him in all his debauched glory: the French maid dress rucked up to expose his stocking tops, the leather belts binding his legs, the handcuffs pinning his arms, and the gag stretching his crimson lips. His blond wig was askew, his face flushed with arousal and shame.
“Holy shit!” Oliver roared with laughter. Is that… a chick in a maid costume?”
Maggie clapped a hand over her mouth, giggling uncontrollably. “Is that… Victor? Oh my God, he’s dressed like a slutty maid!”
Lila’s eyes widened, then narrowed with a wicked, knowing smile. “Well, well, Victor. Didn’t know you had this side to you.”“You look… deliciously helpless.”
Victor’s muffled pleas were incoherent, his body trembling as the vibrator buzzed mercilessly, pushing him to the edge but never over. The itching powder was unbearable now, his feet twitching uncontrollably in the heels. He tried to speak, to beg, but the gag turned his words into pathetic moans.
“Yo, Chad, you sneaky bastard!” Oliver slurred, shoving Victor onto the bed, where he landed with a muffled yelp, his cuffed hands trapped behind him. “Hiding this kinky little maid for yourself, huh? Well, now you just get to watch!”
Maggie giggled, swaying as she clutched a vodka bottle. “Yeah, Chad, no hogging the fun! Let’s help this cutie untie himself, motivate him a little.” She brandished a feather from her costume, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Tickling’s the best way, right?”
Victor’s eyes widened, his muffled protests garbled as Oliver and Maggie descended. Oliver’s thick fingers dug into Victor’s ribs, skittering over the satin maid dress, while Maggie’s feather danced along his exposed collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin above his stockings. Victor thrashed, his laughter erupting in choked bursts through the gag, his body twitching helplessly against the leather belts binding his ankles and knees.
Lila, lounging on the bed’s edge in her tight black cat costume, zeroed in on Victor’s feet. Her emerald eyes gleamed as she slipped off his powdered high heels, revealing his nylon-clad soles, still dusted with the itching powder’s maddening residue. “Oh, you poor thing,” she purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. She dragged a manicured nail along his arch, slow and deliberate, watching him jolt. “This is how Catwoman tortures her victims, darling. Nice and slow, until you’re begging.”
Victor howled through the gag, his laughter a desperate, muffled cacophony as Lila’s nails scribbled across his soles, the nylon amplifying every ticklish sensation. The itching powder made it unbearable, his toes curling uselessly in the stockings. He twisted his body, trying to avoid her relentless fingers, but was careful not to kick too hard, terrified of hurting her. His hips bucked as the vibrator surged, pushing him to the edge, his muffled pleas,“Mmph! P-please!”, lost in the group’s laughter.
Chad sprawled on his bed, his smirk sharp as he watched the scene unfold, his eyes flicking between Victor’s writhing form and Lila’s predatory focus. He leaned forward, his hand brushing Lila’s right foot, where her fishnet tights left her toes exposed. His fingers grazed her sole, teasing the sensitive skin.
Lila squealed, jerking her foot away with a giggle. “Chad, you jerk!” she snapped, her voice playful but firm. “Sit back and watch, or I’ll tie you up next!” Her cheeks flushed, but she quickly turned her attention back to Victor, her nails resuming their merciless assault on his nylon feet. She traced circles around his heels, then skittered up to his toes, relishing his frantic laughter. “That’s it, little maid,” she cooed, “squirm for me.”
To be continue......
