Resume time

At your urging, time resumes its march.

The woman’s next hop lands with a wet schlop. Her eyes fly wide as she feels the warm, slippery touch crash into her from every intimate angle simultaneously: The thick layers of oil coating her breasts, the way it glides slickly between her legs, the rivulets racing deep down the cleft of her ass. The way it is covering nearly every inch of her naked body and squelches obscenely with every shift if her thighs.

”Mhmhpfh?!”

The knight’s muffled cry of surprise is sharp and loud. Her hobbled legs prevent any elegant motion, and her startled half-turn causes her glistening tits to bounce, slapping against each other with a lewd, wet sound. She staggers, whipping her head around to look in your direction. Her face burns a fiery crimson. You can tell the knight can feel each place your hands have roamed, and the copious attention you’ve lavished on her sensitive areas. Her nipples stiffen further in the cool air, feeling the echoes of your tender caresses. They are further teased by the bobbing motions of her own breasts.

You can’t help but grin with satisfaction. Her eyes blaze with that familiar muddle of rage and disbelief. Her teeth gnash against the garter gag, muffling her snarls of objection into an unintelligible ”mhmpf, mhmmf!” It’s more pathetic than intimidating; an oily, naked caricature of the proud, brazen knight of yester-minute, waddling down a filthy alley in bonds. Each little hop to attempt to regain her balance causes her tits to bounce and sway, and her predicament only worsens with every shifting movement as the dripping wetness pools and rubs against her clit. Her eyes flutter; a momentary break in her defiance. A ‘mhmp’ laced with a hint of a desperate whimper. She regains herself and shoots you another furious look of protest.

You chuckle at her: ”That’s right, darling. Keep telling yourself you’re not enjoying this.”