UberTicklish1
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Mar 27, 2006
- Messages
- 77
- Points
- 0
Lady Angela stared cheerlessly out her window. Life was not what the bards sang about. There were no knights, no dragons. Just day after day of drudgery. Boredom. Nothing exciting ever happened.
The noble woman was discontent with life. Maybe she should’ve given into the demands of her parents and priest and married. Instead she had purposely ruined all her chances and now at 30 summers no man wanted her, she was too old and most likely barren.
She didn’t look barren though, she thought this to herself as she looked down and ran her hands over her wide, flaring hips, then up to her large bust. She was not entirely uncomely, though as a child she had a nearly deadly bout of smallpox that left a light scarring over her right cheek. However she face was pretty enough, her waist neither too small nor too thick, and she had honey-golden hair. Plus even at her advanced years she had good, strong teeth, a full mouth of them, something even her mother didn’t have when she had been Angela’s age.
When Angela was 18 she had been sent to a convent because she refused to marry. However her parents were both murdered not long after by a neighboring lord who wanted their lands. Angela had run away from the nuns and found her destitute uncle. Convincing him to take up his sword to reclaim her inheritance. After that he and Angela reached an agreement, he would stay as her guardian and protector, so long as he never forced her to marry.
Men were disgusting pigs. How many times had she seen her father strike her mother then go and lay with a wench? Rutting like an animal anywhere in the castle? Even her uncle would do such had Angela not controlled him via the purse strings.
Still, she was unhappy. Lately there had been a restlessness to her. It had started when she had over heard a new servant speaking with the others of Angela’s new neighbors a half day ride over.
The maid had mainly nice things to day about the lord and lady. However she had many strange things to say. For instance they sent their servants’ children away to be educated. They did not want a single child in the castle. Nor did they hire any servants who were under 18 summers. Finally they separated the dungeon. The husband using one half to punish his men and local male criminals. The wife using the other half to punish females.
In fact, apparently they were very tough on what they viewed as crime. They did not allow anyone to harass the women under their care, not even visiting nobility. In all other castles male nobles could do what they liked to the women, but not in this one. Plus there was a rumor they had killed a nobleman who had hurt a peasant’s child.
It was the wife that the servant talked about though. Apparently she had been caught stealing and taken down to the dungeon. There she said the mistress had - tickled her. Not the playful tickling Angela had seen between those of the lower class, but from the servant’s description, cruel, vicious tickling. For hours on end the servant had been tickled.
The talk had caused a warm, unfamiliar feeling to coil in Angela’s stomach and loins. Her clothing felt strangely tight in areas. Angela couldn’t think of anything else. Her own parents had never touched her except to slap her when she was bad. What would it be like to be tickled? After her bath she tried to tickle herself, but it got no response.
Maybe there was only one way to find out. After all, no one would really miss her for a few days.
.............................................................................
“Here she is, milady.” The head upstairs maid said, dropping a clumsy curtsey to her mistress before exiting the room.
“Come here, girl,” said the woman, “let me get a good look at you.”
Angela came forward with the proper downcast eyes and curtsied. She had doffed her noble clothing for the poorer clothing of a servant. Deciding it would work towards her plans better.
A firm hand caught her under the chin and lifted her head up. If Angela were to guess at the mistress’ age, she would be about 40, maybe even 50 summers. Yet her hair was still mostly raven black with only light touches of grey. Deep brown eyes outlined in kohl stared deep into Angela’s light green ones. Angela was short like many women, but the Lady was tall, almost as tall as a man, with a willowy body.
“I am Lady Bethany.” She said, now lightly caressing Angela’s scarred cheek. “And what is your name, pretty one?”
“An - Anna, milady.” Angela said, thinking it best to doff her name as well.
“Well, An-Anna.” Bethany mocked slightly, “We have rules here, which we will go over now.” She moved to a cupboard and removed a large jar. “Every day you will join with the other upstairs maids for a bath. I want every spot of you washed. I will not tolerate the filthiness I’ve seen in other places. The only excuse to be dirty is if you just finished a dirty job or have been in a fight. And starting today, every third day you will apply this all over certain your body approximately a half hour before your bath.”
Angela took the jar and opened it, a foul smell filling her delicate nose.
“It will remove all hair it comes in contact with. So make sure it doesn’t touch the hair on your head. You will apply it to your legs, your underarms, and your woman’s mound. Afterwards you will let the others scrub you. Before bed you will apply lotion to all these areas and your feet as well. You will scrub your feet with this stone.” She handed Angela a rough looking stone full of small holes. “It will be done ten minutes into your bath to remove dry, dead skin, and put on lotion on your feet after your bath as well. You will never walk around barefoot except in an emergency. Are we clear on this, Anna?”
“Yes, milady.” Angela was blushing hotly. Remove all her hair? Including the golden fuzz between her thighs? Well, she might as well do it. She had gone this far.
“Good. Other then no stealing, no unseemly behavior with the men, and no murder, those are the majority of the rules. Now go see to your bath and tomorrow you may attend to your duties.”
..................................................................................
Work, of course, was something Angela had not done much of. While she did oversee things such as cooking, sewing, and dyeing, most of the actual work was done by servants and peasants. So it came hard to her, but she managed to fake her way through by watching the others. A week had past this way. She was getting the feel for this place.
Lady Bethany and Lord Jason were unlike any nobles Angela had ever known. For one thing they touched each other more then was seemly. They even kissed on the lips! He would feed her and she would suck on his finger tips. They looked at each other in ways Angela had never seen. He never raised his hand in anger to her or anyone. He never even tried anything with the maids and instead always carried Lady Bethany up to their bed. There was only one time that a man had been taken down to the dungeon, for drunkenly trying to force himself on a peasants’ daughter. He came back up with whip marks on his back then he had been forced to stay in stocks while everyone threw offal at him.
Angela managed to sneak a letter off to her uncle, letting him know she was alright. That she was just trying something new. Another letter when to Angela’s most trusted maid to let her uncle have his allowance.
It was another week before Angela saw her chance. She was finally trusted to clean the lord and lady’s bed chamber along with another new maid.
The new maid started to slip a silver comb into her bodice, but Angela grabbed her and stopped her. “Don’t.” She whispered, then when she saw Bethany coming in from the corner of her eye.
“What’s going on here?” Her ladyship demanded. “What are you doing with that comb, Anna?”
“I - I - I was going to steal it, milady.” Angela said, taking the opening. “I never had anything so fine and the temptation was too much for me.”
Lady Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed.” She moved forward and plucked the comb from Angela’s fingers, handing it to the other maid. “Come with me, Anna.” With a grip like iron on Angela’s upper arm, Bethany dragged her out of the room.
They paused on the way to the dungeon only long enough to call for Lord Jason. They then continued on their way.
First they passed by the men’s chamber. There was no one in there now, however there were chains, a rack, whips, and many other such devices of pain. Angela whimpered, thinking of those instruments biting into her tender flesh even though she knew that wasn’t the fate in store for her.
Now they were in the women’s chamber. While it had the same rack, chains, and other devices to restrain, all were comfortably padded and some of the devices altered in ways.
Bethany’s breath tickled Angela’s ear. “I’m glad you finally broke a rule, Lady Angela.” She whispered. “Oh, yes, I knew all along who you are, my dear. I’ve longed to get my hands on your tender looking flesh.”
Lord Jason took a seat. Grinning wickedly as he watched the festivities. With a knife, Bethany cut off all of Angela’s clothing. “Oh, she’s perfectly aged, my dear.” He said, stroking his light brown beard. “Not too young, not too old. Her bust sags just a small amount. A delightful amount, but under such great weight as those two large globes, anything would sag.”
Bethany just chuckled and pushed a stunned Angela to a set of stocks. The stocks forced Angela to spread her legs wide. Chains from a pole behind her held Angela’s arms high above her head. Every part of her body, never seen naked by a man before today, was vulnerable. Even where her bottom and thighs met was exposed.
“Such smooth, creamy flesh.” Lady Bethany cooed, stroking Angela’s arms with the tips of her fingers. “And look how she quivers. I think she’s ticklish, my love.”
“Perhaps you should test her and find out.” His lordship suggested.
Angela, having never been tickled, was completely unprepared for what happened next. Bethany had taken two stiff feathers and began to run them up and down her arms. Going a little lower with each downstroke. Angela giggled and squirmed, trying to get her arms away, but Bethany was standing behind her, there was no escape.
Just before the feathers reached her armpits, Bethany took them and started to tickle Angela’s ears and neck. Making the poor woman squirm even more.
“Does that tickle, Lady Angela? If you think this is bad, wait until I get to those armpits of your’s. Look at my husband, he can’t wait.” Bethany chuckled. “There’s nothing my husband loves more then a smooth, hairless ticklish armpit on a woman. You should see how he torments me at night with that beard.”
Angela, through her giggles and squirms, managed to look at Lord Jason who’s hazel eyes were heavy with lust. She gasped as she saw he was - doing things - to himself.
As she looked the feathers were suddenly in her armpits and Angela practically screamed with sudden laughter. The feathers sending her into mad, loud, very unladylike laughter. She jerked against her bonds and tried to get away, but she couldn’t.
Now the feathers were dancing down her ribs and her belly. Angela was so ticklish and so unused to it that she was already a weak, laughing mess. Tears popped into her eyes as Lady Bethany began to move forward more to start tickling her thighs. The feathers getting dangerously close to her bald, glistening mound.
Then it stopped. Angela sagged weakly in her bonds. Water was given to her. Then Lady Bethany sat at Angela’s feet.
“While my husband loves armpits, I, my sweetling,” her ladyship was saying, “prefer the tender feet of a woman.” She pressed against Angela’s feet with her entire hand, moaning as she caressed them. “Oh and your’s are perfect. So small, so soft, so delicate.”
The feathers returned. Dragging between Angela’s pudgy toes, down her soft soles, back over the tops of them. They danced around her ankles. Bethany laughing wickedly with each stroke.
Angela was in agony - and ecstasy. The tickling had done strange, frightening, and wonderful things to her. That warm feeling was in her stomach again. Moving down to the joint of her legs. She felt moisture where there normally wasn’t. Her nipples felt hard and so did something between her legs, deep inside her folds. Even as she laughed, laughed like she never had before, she felt the tickling sending her someplace terrifying and exciting.
Before it could, however, Lady Bethany stopped. She gave Angela a rest while she tended to Lord Jason’s - needs. Then returned, naked and looking as lazily satisfied as a well fed cat.
“I think it’s time to move on from feathers, milady.” Bethany said with a throaty chuckle, sitting her bare bottom down on the hard stone floor alongside Angela’s own derriere. Something with soft bristles began to stroke that exposed place where the tops of her legs met her generous backside.
Angela began to scream with laughter. She couldn’t think of anything but laughter. About the tickling now taking over her mind, her body, perhaps even her soul. Sinful feelings came with each tickle and she wished that Lady Bethany would tickle her someplace else nearby.
Soon the brush was moved. Sometimes it would be at Angela’s belly button. Other times in am armpit or brushing a rib. Her neck was teased with it. It dusted over her thrusting nipples, making her moan. And when it was over her feet she thought she’d go mad with desire.
This seemed to go on forever. Every time Angela began to reach for that scary peak, Lady Bethany would stop, give Angela water, then tend to her husband. Tickle tool after tickling tool was used on her. Then finally it was down to Lady Bethany’s own fingers.
At one point Bethany, lightly tweaking a nipple, whispered to Angela, “I think you’re enjoying this, my pretty little tickle toy. I am too.” She kissed Angela then, full on the mouth, pressing close so her own nipples rubbed against Angela. “I may just never let you go.” Then she began her wicked work on Angela’s upper body and thighs again.
When Bethany had worked to Angela’s feet, this time she began to suck and nibble on Angela’s poor tired toes. Ravishing those soft soles with her long fingers and tongue. Angela grew warmer and warmer between her thighs until suddenly in the midst of her wild, raw laughter, her body finally crested and she let out a wild, moaning scream. Then hung limply, out cold.
...................................................................................
Angela woke bound in a soft bed. It had been six months since she had given into temptation and allowed herself to be tickle-seduced by Lady Bethany. She never regretted one day. Not even when they had taken over her lands and castle, telling everyone she had eloped with Lord Jason’s non-existent brother. None but the most trusted servants knew that Lady Angela was actually Bethany’s tickle-toy. Kept in a luxurious cage. However Angela didn’t mind. She knew that she would not be bored. At any time Lady Bethany and Lord Jason would appear. Angela would be tickled. Perhaps for a few seconds, perhaps for hours. The latter ending in a three-way tussle in their extra large bed. Bethany at her feet, Jason dragging his bearded mouth across her armpit.
And sometimes, when Angela was really good, she got to help punish wayward maids and thieving wenches.
~~The End~~
The noble woman was discontent with life. Maybe she should’ve given into the demands of her parents and priest and married. Instead she had purposely ruined all her chances and now at 30 summers no man wanted her, she was too old and most likely barren.
She didn’t look barren though, she thought this to herself as she looked down and ran her hands over her wide, flaring hips, then up to her large bust. She was not entirely uncomely, though as a child she had a nearly deadly bout of smallpox that left a light scarring over her right cheek. However she face was pretty enough, her waist neither too small nor too thick, and she had honey-golden hair. Plus even at her advanced years she had good, strong teeth, a full mouth of them, something even her mother didn’t have when she had been Angela’s age.
When Angela was 18 she had been sent to a convent because she refused to marry. However her parents were both murdered not long after by a neighboring lord who wanted their lands. Angela had run away from the nuns and found her destitute uncle. Convincing him to take up his sword to reclaim her inheritance. After that he and Angela reached an agreement, he would stay as her guardian and protector, so long as he never forced her to marry.
Men were disgusting pigs. How many times had she seen her father strike her mother then go and lay with a wench? Rutting like an animal anywhere in the castle? Even her uncle would do such had Angela not controlled him via the purse strings.
Still, she was unhappy. Lately there had been a restlessness to her. It had started when she had over heard a new servant speaking with the others of Angela’s new neighbors a half day ride over.
The maid had mainly nice things to day about the lord and lady. However she had many strange things to say. For instance they sent their servants’ children away to be educated. They did not want a single child in the castle. Nor did they hire any servants who were under 18 summers. Finally they separated the dungeon. The husband using one half to punish his men and local male criminals. The wife using the other half to punish females.
In fact, apparently they were very tough on what they viewed as crime. They did not allow anyone to harass the women under their care, not even visiting nobility. In all other castles male nobles could do what they liked to the women, but not in this one. Plus there was a rumor they had killed a nobleman who had hurt a peasant’s child.
It was the wife that the servant talked about though. Apparently she had been caught stealing and taken down to the dungeon. There she said the mistress had - tickled her. Not the playful tickling Angela had seen between those of the lower class, but from the servant’s description, cruel, vicious tickling. For hours on end the servant had been tickled.
The talk had caused a warm, unfamiliar feeling to coil in Angela’s stomach and loins. Her clothing felt strangely tight in areas. Angela couldn’t think of anything else. Her own parents had never touched her except to slap her when she was bad. What would it be like to be tickled? After her bath she tried to tickle herself, but it got no response.
Maybe there was only one way to find out. After all, no one would really miss her for a few days.
.............................................................................
“Here she is, milady.” The head upstairs maid said, dropping a clumsy curtsey to her mistress before exiting the room.
“Come here, girl,” said the woman, “let me get a good look at you.”
Angela came forward with the proper downcast eyes and curtsied. She had doffed her noble clothing for the poorer clothing of a servant. Deciding it would work towards her plans better.
A firm hand caught her under the chin and lifted her head up. If Angela were to guess at the mistress’ age, she would be about 40, maybe even 50 summers. Yet her hair was still mostly raven black with only light touches of grey. Deep brown eyes outlined in kohl stared deep into Angela’s light green ones. Angela was short like many women, but the Lady was tall, almost as tall as a man, with a willowy body.
“I am Lady Bethany.” She said, now lightly caressing Angela’s scarred cheek. “And what is your name, pretty one?”
“An - Anna, milady.” Angela said, thinking it best to doff her name as well.
“Well, An-Anna.” Bethany mocked slightly, “We have rules here, which we will go over now.” She moved to a cupboard and removed a large jar. “Every day you will join with the other upstairs maids for a bath. I want every spot of you washed. I will not tolerate the filthiness I’ve seen in other places. The only excuse to be dirty is if you just finished a dirty job or have been in a fight. And starting today, every third day you will apply this all over certain your body approximately a half hour before your bath.”
Angela took the jar and opened it, a foul smell filling her delicate nose.
“It will remove all hair it comes in contact with. So make sure it doesn’t touch the hair on your head. You will apply it to your legs, your underarms, and your woman’s mound. Afterwards you will let the others scrub you. Before bed you will apply lotion to all these areas and your feet as well. You will scrub your feet with this stone.” She handed Angela a rough looking stone full of small holes. “It will be done ten minutes into your bath to remove dry, dead skin, and put on lotion on your feet after your bath as well. You will never walk around barefoot except in an emergency. Are we clear on this, Anna?”
“Yes, milady.” Angela was blushing hotly. Remove all her hair? Including the golden fuzz between her thighs? Well, she might as well do it. She had gone this far.
“Good. Other then no stealing, no unseemly behavior with the men, and no murder, those are the majority of the rules. Now go see to your bath and tomorrow you may attend to your duties.”
..................................................................................
Work, of course, was something Angela had not done much of. While she did oversee things such as cooking, sewing, and dyeing, most of the actual work was done by servants and peasants. So it came hard to her, but she managed to fake her way through by watching the others. A week had past this way. She was getting the feel for this place.
Lady Bethany and Lord Jason were unlike any nobles Angela had ever known. For one thing they touched each other more then was seemly. They even kissed on the lips! He would feed her and she would suck on his finger tips. They looked at each other in ways Angela had never seen. He never raised his hand in anger to her or anyone. He never even tried anything with the maids and instead always carried Lady Bethany up to their bed. There was only one time that a man had been taken down to the dungeon, for drunkenly trying to force himself on a peasants’ daughter. He came back up with whip marks on his back then he had been forced to stay in stocks while everyone threw offal at him.
Angela managed to sneak a letter off to her uncle, letting him know she was alright. That she was just trying something new. Another letter when to Angela’s most trusted maid to let her uncle have his allowance.
It was another week before Angela saw her chance. She was finally trusted to clean the lord and lady’s bed chamber along with another new maid.
The new maid started to slip a silver comb into her bodice, but Angela grabbed her and stopped her. “Don’t.” She whispered, then when she saw Bethany coming in from the corner of her eye.
“What’s going on here?” Her ladyship demanded. “What are you doing with that comb, Anna?”
“I - I - I was going to steal it, milady.” Angela said, taking the opening. “I never had anything so fine and the temptation was too much for me.”
Lady Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed.” She moved forward and plucked the comb from Angela’s fingers, handing it to the other maid. “Come with me, Anna.” With a grip like iron on Angela’s upper arm, Bethany dragged her out of the room.
They paused on the way to the dungeon only long enough to call for Lord Jason. They then continued on their way.
First they passed by the men’s chamber. There was no one in there now, however there were chains, a rack, whips, and many other such devices of pain. Angela whimpered, thinking of those instruments biting into her tender flesh even though she knew that wasn’t the fate in store for her.
Now they were in the women’s chamber. While it had the same rack, chains, and other devices to restrain, all were comfortably padded and some of the devices altered in ways.
Bethany’s breath tickled Angela’s ear. “I’m glad you finally broke a rule, Lady Angela.” She whispered. “Oh, yes, I knew all along who you are, my dear. I’ve longed to get my hands on your tender looking flesh.”
Lord Jason took a seat. Grinning wickedly as he watched the festivities. With a knife, Bethany cut off all of Angela’s clothing. “Oh, she’s perfectly aged, my dear.” He said, stroking his light brown beard. “Not too young, not too old. Her bust sags just a small amount. A delightful amount, but under such great weight as those two large globes, anything would sag.”
Bethany just chuckled and pushed a stunned Angela to a set of stocks. The stocks forced Angela to spread her legs wide. Chains from a pole behind her held Angela’s arms high above her head. Every part of her body, never seen naked by a man before today, was vulnerable. Even where her bottom and thighs met was exposed.
“Such smooth, creamy flesh.” Lady Bethany cooed, stroking Angela’s arms with the tips of her fingers. “And look how she quivers. I think she’s ticklish, my love.”
“Perhaps you should test her and find out.” His lordship suggested.
Angela, having never been tickled, was completely unprepared for what happened next. Bethany had taken two stiff feathers and began to run them up and down her arms. Going a little lower with each downstroke. Angela giggled and squirmed, trying to get her arms away, but Bethany was standing behind her, there was no escape.
Just before the feathers reached her armpits, Bethany took them and started to tickle Angela’s ears and neck. Making the poor woman squirm even more.
“Does that tickle, Lady Angela? If you think this is bad, wait until I get to those armpits of your’s. Look at my husband, he can’t wait.” Bethany chuckled. “There’s nothing my husband loves more then a smooth, hairless ticklish armpit on a woman. You should see how he torments me at night with that beard.”
Angela, through her giggles and squirms, managed to look at Lord Jason who’s hazel eyes were heavy with lust. She gasped as she saw he was - doing things - to himself.
As she looked the feathers were suddenly in her armpits and Angela practically screamed with sudden laughter. The feathers sending her into mad, loud, very unladylike laughter. She jerked against her bonds and tried to get away, but she couldn’t.
Now the feathers were dancing down her ribs and her belly. Angela was so ticklish and so unused to it that she was already a weak, laughing mess. Tears popped into her eyes as Lady Bethany began to move forward more to start tickling her thighs. The feathers getting dangerously close to her bald, glistening mound.
Then it stopped. Angela sagged weakly in her bonds. Water was given to her. Then Lady Bethany sat at Angela’s feet.
“While my husband loves armpits, I, my sweetling,” her ladyship was saying, “prefer the tender feet of a woman.” She pressed against Angela’s feet with her entire hand, moaning as she caressed them. “Oh and your’s are perfect. So small, so soft, so delicate.”
The feathers returned. Dragging between Angela’s pudgy toes, down her soft soles, back over the tops of them. They danced around her ankles. Bethany laughing wickedly with each stroke.
Angela was in agony - and ecstasy. The tickling had done strange, frightening, and wonderful things to her. That warm feeling was in her stomach again. Moving down to the joint of her legs. She felt moisture where there normally wasn’t. Her nipples felt hard and so did something between her legs, deep inside her folds. Even as she laughed, laughed like she never had before, she felt the tickling sending her someplace terrifying and exciting.
Before it could, however, Lady Bethany stopped. She gave Angela a rest while she tended to Lord Jason’s - needs. Then returned, naked and looking as lazily satisfied as a well fed cat.
“I think it’s time to move on from feathers, milady.” Bethany said with a throaty chuckle, sitting her bare bottom down on the hard stone floor alongside Angela’s own derriere. Something with soft bristles began to stroke that exposed place where the tops of her legs met her generous backside.
Angela began to scream with laughter. She couldn’t think of anything but laughter. About the tickling now taking over her mind, her body, perhaps even her soul. Sinful feelings came with each tickle and she wished that Lady Bethany would tickle her someplace else nearby.
Soon the brush was moved. Sometimes it would be at Angela’s belly button. Other times in am armpit or brushing a rib. Her neck was teased with it. It dusted over her thrusting nipples, making her moan. And when it was over her feet she thought she’d go mad with desire.
This seemed to go on forever. Every time Angela began to reach for that scary peak, Lady Bethany would stop, give Angela water, then tend to her husband. Tickle tool after tickling tool was used on her. Then finally it was down to Lady Bethany’s own fingers.
At one point Bethany, lightly tweaking a nipple, whispered to Angela, “I think you’re enjoying this, my pretty little tickle toy. I am too.” She kissed Angela then, full on the mouth, pressing close so her own nipples rubbed against Angela. “I may just never let you go.” Then she began her wicked work on Angela’s upper body and thighs again.
When Bethany had worked to Angela’s feet, this time she began to suck and nibble on Angela’s poor tired toes. Ravishing those soft soles with her long fingers and tongue. Angela grew warmer and warmer between her thighs until suddenly in the midst of her wild, raw laughter, her body finally crested and she let out a wild, moaning scream. Then hung limply, out cold.
...................................................................................
Angela woke bound in a soft bed. It had been six months since she had given into temptation and allowed herself to be tickle-seduced by Lady Bethany. She never regretted one day. Not even when they had taken over her lands and castle, telling everyone she had eloped with Lord Jason’s non-existent brother. None but the most trusted servants knew that Lady Angela was actually Bethany’s tickle-toy. Kept in a luxurious cage. However Angela didn’t mind. She knew that she would not be bored. At any time Lady Bethany and Lord Jason would appear. Angela would be tickled. Perhaps for a few seconds, perhaps for hours. The latter ending in a three-way tussle in their extra large bed. Bethany at her feet, Jason dragging his bearded mouth across her armpit.
And sometimes, when Angela was really good, she got to help punish wayward maids and thieving wenches.
~~The End~~
