Flirt

Velvet Vixen lets out a slow, shaky breath as Daisy’s brush glides across her inner thighs—warm, wet, deliberate.

She shifts in her bonds—not out of resistance, but because her nerves are lit up like a spotlight. Every stroke of glaze leaves a trail of sensitivity in its wake, and her post-Hot Box body is not recovering quickly.

“Y-You sure,” she pants, lashes fluttering, “you’re not just doing this for fun?”

Daisy doesn’t pause.

She dips the brush again with a satisfied swish, leans in close, and grins like the cat that not only caught the canary… but tied it down and painted it gold.

“Oh sugar,” she purrs, “I’m enjoyin’ this more than I should.”

She leans over Vixen’s spread leg, brushing a fresh layer across the tight fabric of her hip.

“But I think you are, too.”

Velvet Vixen opens her mouth to retort—then bites her lip as the next pass of the brush sends a shiver down her spine. Her wrists twist in their bindings. Her chest rises with a desperate, involuntary breath.

Daisy watches her reaction with sparkling eyes.

“See?” she giggles. “It’s all over your face, baby.”

The brush moves higher. The glaze gets thicker.

The scent of honey and flowers clings to her skin. Her costume is starting to glimmer with the stuff. Her body flushes deeper as the last remnants of control threaten to slip through her fingers again.