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Chapter 14 by Big Finish 5678 Big Finish 5678

What's next?

Laura frees herself

When the cold ice cream made contact with my breasts, it was the only time I was grateful my lips had been glued shut, or else I'd have let out the most shrill, embarrassing scream imaginable. But although the sound could only be heard by those in close proximity, the muffled noise that reverberated within my mouth was still very distinct and humiliatingly out of character.

But if you had felt what I had felt, you wouldn't blame me. My boobs felt like the cold had set them ablaze. My brown areolas were obscured by the pink cream already melting over, and they quickly turned diamond hard. I shivered and writhed like mad, flinging the cones into the face of a dumbstruck guy who'd been ogling my tits. But that last, madcap struggle finally loosened the rope binding my ankles. My feet slipped through the rope, and I flopped onto the floor like the fish I had replaced. I’d fallen on my front, and I tried to pull myself up onto my feet, but with my hands still stuck to my thighs I was **** to pull my knees underneath my chest, thrusting out my curvy behind to the scandalised onlookers.

Eventually, I steadied myself onto my feet, and sprinted through the pier Without the use of my hands, my unsecured breasts were free to bounce and jiggle as I ran, much to the delight of some. I tried my best to ignore the voices of those around me. While there were plenty of catcalls, most people were just booing my departure, like I was a pantomime villain exiting stage left, for they were still bitter at my supposed sabotage of the competition.

Well that wouldn’t matter now. Because I could finally get into my car and... then it dawned on me. With my hands stuck to my thighs, I'd be unable to pick up my keys and unlock the thing. I stopped in my tracks, and heel turned into an alleyway to hide from the townsfolk and consider my next move. If I wanted out of this town, then I'd need to at least free my hands from their gluey bonds. Not to mention that I was still covered in scribbles, sweat, tartare sauce, and ice cream. Even without the awful sticky sensations, I still didn't want to get the inside of my car dirty. Of course, I could've waited, but as the Queen had said, the formula was untested, and I had no idea how long it would take to wear off, so my hastiness should be forgiven.

With my lips also glued shut, it would be impossible to ask anyone else for help, not that they'd give any to me anyhow, as I had been on display at the pier long enough to solidify my reputation as an evil protestor who had rained on their parade. The way I saw it, I only had two solutions. Either make a mad dash for the beach and take a shallow skinny dip. Or, be stealthier, and look for something in the alleyways. I glanced around behind me, and spotted a garden hose that had - thankfully - already been connected to a tap. I could use it to wash myself, but it would be incredibly difficult to manoeuvre it with only my feet. I peaked back out of the alleyway and looked at the Beach. Boy, did I not want to run past and flash that crowd. At least, no more than I had already done.

Both options were tricky, but I had to pick.

What does Laura do?

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