Neve feels an itch...

Neve was slowly making her way next to a flower shop, the astonished gardener staring at her from under her gigantic sun hat. Gosh, she would kill to at least wear that hat and suffer in the shade.

With the ropes binding her arms and legs, it was a herculean effort just to finish a damned block. Now Neve was unsure if she could even reach the storage container before it closed altogether. Nope, there was nothing good about this. The only silver lining she could find was that it could at least not get worse.

Even her body was rejecting the adventure, an itching sensation spreading across her skin, focusing near her crotch. Wait, no. There was nothing natural about that feeling, it was another of her sister´s pranks! The sensation grew stronger, until…

“What are you doing to my palm tree, you pervert?!” The scandalized hippie gardener cried out. Neve was rubbing herself up and down the wooden shaft of a palm tree.

“Ahhh… that feels better.” She moaned to herself. Yes, she knew that it was wrong, but couldn’t help it! At least she got the itching curse after she hopped past the cactus…

“Stop!” The gardener aimed her trusty hose towards Neve. First, she drenched her chest, but she soon aimed lower, hitting Neve´s groin with a current of cold water.

“Ack! …actually that feels kind of good…Ugh!” With the torrent of water now aimed squarely on her face, Neve snapped out of her trance. The gardener was staring at her with complete scorn, as did most of the bystanders… Adrenaline shot across her spine, and Neve jumped away for her life, ducking for cover in the first alleyway she found.

Welp, Neve just found out what rock bottom was. There was no excuse out of that one. “Oh, my sister, you see, she used her cosmic abilities to make my crotch itch like crazy, and I just couldn’t help myself.” Yeah right, anyway you looked at it, she came off as a pervert and a liar.

Hey, but at least the impromptu bath cleaned the awful soccer scribbles! And the itching was gone too! Neve came out with two silver linings out of her complete and utter mortification.

But now what? She should resume her march. Time was of the essence! But her feet just refused to move her out of the dingy alleyway. She didn´t dare to face the gardener outside and slowwwwwly hop out of her view. If only there was some sort of shortcut…