Tails of the Stripped

 


Mouse takes a day off to hit the beach... of course as usual she just can’t keep her hands off of things... soon wearing some shades and a necklace that don't belong to her... spreading out her towel on the sand... slipping off her flip flops... stretching out in her green and black polka dot swimsuit... opening her Danger Doll comic to start reading...

The sun beating down on the idyllic scene... not a soul to be seen on the beach... the necklace around your neck seeming to pulse with the sunlight... as you remember stealing it the night before for a collector of strange artifacts... the object just too beautiful not to wear before you turn it over to Orange...

Mouse reaches up to touch the string of black pearls... gasping at how hot they have become... gasping as she realizes they may burn her fair skin... quickly slipping the necklace off... and wrapping it in a corner of the towel... before returning to the story in the comic... some silliness about Kei and Panda fighting zombies...

The black pearls seeming to pulse in the corner of the towel... as you seem to feel something shifting... as if the sand underneath you is being disturbed... your eyes widening as a hand bursts up through the shifting sand of the beach... to clasp around your ankle...

Mouse eeks... her head spinning around... ridiculously large ponytail waving in the sea breeze... blinking at the sight... instinctively smacking the grasping hand with the comic in her own... as she jerks her ankle away... "Hey... let go scumbag..." nibbling at her lip... "How did you know where I would lie down anyway?"

A head poking up out of the sand... along with another hand... the face decayed... dead... as more dead hands burst through the sand underfoot... reaching and clawing at you... one grabbing onto your swimsuit...

Mouse gapes... her indignant voice turning into a high-pitched squeal as she sees these creatures rising all around her... whacking at the clawing hand that has her suit bottom as she tries to pull away... scooping up towel and necklace to make a run for it... "Holy shit... aiyeeeee... help..."

The hand on your swimsuit refusing to let go... forcing you to wiggle out of it before you make a run for it... as a half dozen rotting zombies burst up out of the beach... almost skeletal... perhaps buried down there in pirate times...

Mouse falls to the sand... and the dark shades fall over her eyes... wriggling her ass as she crawls on hands and knees... until her ankles finally come free of the green polka dot garment... her bare bottom glistening as she begins to run... progress slowed by the softness of the sand... and as she tries to wrap the towel around her like a sarong... necklace clenched in a hand as she pumps it...

The necklace still burning hot... almost forcing you to drop it... as it pulses in your grip... the beach continuing to disgorge zombies... who chase after you... scrambling and reaching out with clutching, clammy paws...

Mouse gasps as the sand at her feet literally comes alive with more hands... clutching the makeshift sarong... dragging her sweaty little body down... until she squirms free of terrycloth towel... torn away by claw-like hands... frantically struggling back to her feet... wearing only a coating of sand and dark sunglasses...

The necklace still clutched in your grip... burning hotter than ever... as you run for shelter... the pearls pulsing more intensely... the zombies tearing apart the scraps of cloth... and shambling on... never more than a step behind you... still reaching... aiming to grab hold of you and drag you into their cold embrace...

Mouse gasps as she is nearly surrounded... so terrified that she has not even noticed the necklace searing in her hand until now... dropping it and running for the surf... needing to cool her burned hand in the cold water of the Pacific... bare feet sinking into wet sand...

The sound of snarling zombies behind you making your blood run cold... until you realize that they're not snarling at you... but each other... fighting over the string of black pearls... and sinking down into the sand as they do... tearing the string of pearls from each other's grip... the battle displacing the sand and sinking them all... until not an eddy remains...

Mouse sinks to her knees in the wet sand... still gasping for air... holding her burned hand down into the water as a wave breaks rushes around her little sand-caked form... the cold salt water not easing the pain as she might have hoped... but it does wash her body clean... rising out of the breaker... pert and glistening... wearing only stolen sunglasses as she heads back to the hotel... only to have a cop cuff her for indecent exposure... “These are not nude beaches... by the way where’d you get those nice sunglasses, Missy...?” twitching as she tries to distract him with her Tail of the Stripped...

******

USAngel's handler informing her of the mission... a gang of secessionists lodged in the tunnels underneath an old military base... once a fallout shelter... now their retreat from a world they can't seem to cope with... the Tunnel Rats ready to hold out for years against the government... but also threatening to broadcast sensitive data to Anarchistan... thinking they have more in common with the regime there than with the US...

USAngel salutes... twirling her staff as she snaps to attention... the whirling of her staff blurring into rotor blades... as the little heroine leaps out of the hovering chopper... to root the Rats out of their tunnels... running nimbly forward through the ruins of the old base... looking for her way in... an air duck on the old diagrams... she pulls off the grate and descends...

The vents snaking down... until you get to the other end... both vents heavily filtered in case of gas attack... which means you can't see what might be on the other side... only kick it out and hope for the best...

USAngel grips her staff tightly and kicks with both feet... the filter knocked off in a cloud of dust... from which she emerges like an Angel in her white costume... red white and blue staff at the ready... head on a swivel...

The clang of the filter echoing as it hits the floor... but nobody seems to be around to hear it... the corridors cramped... your staff barely fitting... as you look to see which direction the communications room might be in... once you're smashed their equipment, they might surrender...

USAngel knows the direction from the old diagrams she studied on the flight over... quickly heads in that direction... at the very least she can make sure they don't communicate with anybody in Anarchistan... she nods to herself as she reaches the communications center... activating the flare end of her staff and setting the equipment on fire...

An alarm immediately sounding... as the equipment is damaged beyond repair... the sounds of boots hitting the metal floors of the corridors as the tunnel rats converge on your position... a couple rounding the corner... deadly-looking knives in their hands...

USAngel spins into the fight... her twirling staff becoming a blur as she wades into her attackers... knocking the knives from the hands of the first two... then kicking one in the midsection even as she thrust one end of her staff into the gut of the other...

The two of them folding up... even as more round the corner... unarmed... but reaching out... grabbing onto anything they can in an attempt to wrestle you to the ground... grabbing handfuls of your costume and tugging...

USAngel uses her staff to pole vault into the air... spreading her arms and the morphing wings of her costume... intending to glide over the horde... which looks to be working fine until one whips his belt up... and it catches her ankle... dragging her down into the midst of at least a dozen angry Tunnel Rats...

The Rats swarming over you like their namesake... punching and kicking... and tearing at your costume... ripping it off you in strips... exposing more and more flash... the hands soon roaming as well as hitting and holding...

USAngel has her staff wrestled away from her before she can even activate the taser function... desperately try to scramble up... but the boots and hands are too many... tearing away her white leotard bit by bit as they stomp... then rending her tights as well... her footies coming off with it... as she crawls free... coming up to run... gloved hands pumping... otherwise naked as the day she was born...

The men charging... chasing you... almost trampling each other to get hold of you... snarling like human rats... nevertheless, you gain some ground... even though you don't know where you're going exactly... until a big man steps out right in front of you... maybe six foot nine... or bigger... with muscles to match...

USAngel gasps at the sight of he man into whom she is about to run headlong... no time to dodge... so she tries to run up his front... bare feet aiming to plant on his thigh... his abs... his chest... and flip away... her churning legs and flexing rump working mightily... a smooth clefted pout peering from between her tucked legs...

The big man taken by surprise for a moment... then reaching out to try and grab hold of a churning leg... and slam you into the wall... as the others catch up... everyone in the crowd of men wanting a piece of you...

USAngel squeals as her leg is caught... flailing as she is swung around... oophing as her bare flesh smacks into the wall... and she falls under the forest of stomping boots once more... she manages to pull one off his feet... before the assault drives her flat on the ground... her body lurching each time one of the angry men kicks it...

The pummeling continuing... angry fists slamming into belly... breasts... and temples... before the big man finally calls a halt to it... lifting your dangling body up by the hair...

USAngel groans... no longer offering resistance... her arms hanging limply at her sides... her body bruised and sweaty... a few purple splotches already beginning to appear... she finally finds the resolve to try to cover herself with gloved hands... only to have the gloves ripped off her hands... as the Tunnel Rats call for an example to be made...

The big man delivering a powerful punch to your belly... then one between your legs... before slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes... pushing thick fingers into pussy and ass as a handhold... before carrying you into the dank depths of the tunnels...

USAngel squirms as the grip on her ass tightens... but she is apparently not going to escape this time... the camera zooming in on her plump rump as it twitches... a fitting end to a special vignette called Tail of the Gripped...

******

Molly Whipple steps on the set of DDSTV's new Saturday evening show... "Win or Bare It" hosted by statuesque Barbi Blaze... the opening night to be a celebrity challenge... all proceeds going to the Empire Children's Hospital... Molly waves to the studio audience... her tight pink stretch dress having only one strap... standing tall in her black ankle booties... anxious to see who she'll compete against...

Molly Whipple gasps as none other than "Vicious" Valerie DeVille walks out... towering over Molly... wearing a golden Second Skin bodysuit that fits like a glove... with heels sewn into it... and so tight that it seems unlikely she could be wearing any undergarments... Molly gulps... "Aren't you afraid you'll lose after only one challenge?" The Dark Domme smiles...

Barbi stepping out... to a round of applause... "You all know the rules... the two contestants will face challenges decided by you, the audience at home... competing against one another... if one loses a challenge, she loses a piece of clothing... lose it all and you go home empty handed... after being dressed in the opponent's choice of outfit..."

Molly Whipple taken aback by her surprise opponent... feeling more than a little intimidated by the size and aura of the woman... not to mention the audacity of having so much confidence as to wear a one-piece outfit... Molly nods to herself... she just has to find a way to win one contest... surely she can manage that... she gives the audience a thumbs up...

Barbi grins... as the music plays... "And the first challenge has come up on our challenge board... a naughty one sent in by one of our many viewers... who know what they like to see on DDSTV... a wet costume contest, voted on by you, the audience... aiming to get a sneak preview of what's coming, no doubt..." Two large hoses brought onstage...

Molly Whipple giggles and stands by Valerie... fidgeting in the dark one's shadow... eeping as the cold water is turned on... and the fronts of the two contestants are sprayed... soaking down Molly's pink dress... the tips her modest but genetically perfect breasts pointing up at the stage lights... her eyes widening as she gives Val's pair a sideways glance... how could boobs that size be that buoyant?

Val plainly showing off... striking a pose... arching her back and displaying her ample chest... shooting you a withering glance as the crowd roar their approval... registering votes for the two of you on a readout behind... Val's bar already starting to shoot up... although you're getting some votes too...

Molly Whipple tries go-go dancing to shake her moneymakers... but still the Val's bar rises faster than hers... Molly's lower lip curls out in a pout... Valerie's chest is unbelievable... and twice the size of her own... and even firmer than Belle's... Molly slumps her shoulders... realizing she's lost this round despite gentic perfection...

Val smirks... as the votes are tallied... 70% preferring Val... as the stage hands dry you both off with a pair of giant hairdryers... quickly removing all excess moisture... Barbi strutting up to you... and nodding curtly... "Your turn to remove something, Miss Whipple..."

Molly Whipple sighs and removes a heel... the audience snickering as she tries to stand the remaining one... Molly blushing... "Oh alright... this is awkward..." removing the other one... handing them both to Barbi... turning to look at Val... who with Molly now in bare feet is well over a foot taller... "I'll get you yet..."

The audience jeering... many were obviously hoping for more... as Barbi guides you both to the next exhibit... a pair of mechanical bulls... "Next challenge... who can stay on the longest... be warned... the bulls will buck... spin... and vibrate... furiously... so I hope you can stand the pace..."

Molly Whipple grins... thinking she should be rather good at this... she climbs up and grips the loop of rope with a gloved hand... winking confidently at the chocolate woman in gold... "You're going down this time... whoa!" gasping and holding on for dear life as the machine not only begins to buck... but the saddle vibrates in maddening fashion as well... seemingly worse the louder the crowd cheers...

The saddle ridged as well as vibrating... pressing up against your more vulnerable spots... as the bull spins and bucks... Val seemingly enjoying the added stimulation... and channeling it to hold on tighter... or maybe her saddle isn't quite as effective as yours... which is proving highly distracting...

Molly Whipple holds on tight as the machine bucks faster and faster... her right boob on the strapless side of her dress pops out... waving at the crowd even as Molly struggles to maintain her tingling seat... which gets more and more slippery as her body's own natural reaction kicks in... and she moistens it with her own juices... slipping as the machine whips around... sprawling to the mat in a heap...

The crowd cheering... and clapping... as Val rides the machines right the way to the end of the cycle... leaving her seat spotless... she must have a will of iron... or perhaps it's only fun for her when she's got someone to dominate... either way, you've lost... and here comes Barbi for another item of clothing...

Molly Whipple tucks her boob back into her dress and looks up from her knees... frowning as she removes her gloves... handing them over as she stands... smoothing her dress down over her panties... all she has left herself at this point... two more chances to take down the Dark Domme on "Win or Bare It..."

The crowd cheering and chanting now... as Barbi consults the computer... which once again picks out one of the pre-approved challenges... this time a battle with padded poles... along a tightrope above a deep pool of body oil... perhaps Val's shoes will be her undoing...

Molly Whipple nods her head as she looks down at the heels that are part of Valerie's one-piece costume... "I admit it's a nice look... but it's going to cost you this time..." Molly taking her padded pole and quickly moving to the tightrope... feeling very confident as she curls her toes around it... and waits for her chance to knock Valerie off...

The pole helping you balance on the tightrope... each end heavily wrapped in padding... like a giant Q-tip... as Val steps out onto the wire herself... the pool of oil waiting below... deep enough to cushion a fall from this height...

Molly Whipple advances eagerly to the midway point... anxious to begin... looking up with a smirk as Valerie holds back... shakes her head at Molly... and stomps the rope... the resulting vibration causes Val to teeter where she stands next to the support... but the movement is amplified in the middle of the rope... Molly shows amazing skill... staying on... until a second stomp... "Noooooo..." splash...

You hit the oil hard... finding yourself drenched... as you slamber out... your dress clinging to glistening skin... making it almost unnecessary to take it off... but Barbi quickly strutting up to do just that... even brandishing a pair of scissors to take it off quicker... as Val takes her bow on the support...

Molly Whipple sputters as her dress is cut away... "No fair! She cheated! That was supposed to be a stick fight... and she... she..." Molly blushing and covering her glistening self with her hands... as she is reduced to nothing but oil soaked panties... pouting... "She beat me again darn her..." hanging her head...

Val walking up to cast an appreciative eye over your glistening form... as Barbi returns to the computer... to pick out a final challenge... to decide it one way or the other... one of her eyebrows lifting as she reads it out... "Goodness... something akin to a fencing battle... but with spanking paddles... the first to score three strikes on their opponents bottom wins... who on earth approved that one..."

Molly Whipple blinks and gapes at Barbi... "What in the blazes... you can't be serious..." swallowing hard as the confident Nubian woman struts over to get her paddle with a smirk on her face... Molly wiping off her hands and taking one as well... settling into a ready stance... her quickness could yet save the day... the bell rings and she pounces...

Val spinning... and kicking out with one heel... aiming it for your gut... the paddle poised in her grip like a cobra... the crowd 'oooh'-ing at her merciless tactics... Barbi checking the rules... but there are none...

Molly Whipple contorting and reaching out with a long swing... getting one strike on the powerful gold-clad booty... before the heel in the gut doubles her over... going to her knees... only to have her paddle arm wrenched into the small of her back... Valerie holding her there... smiling evilly like only a Dark Domme would... letting Molly's glistening bottom squirm a bit... before the paddling begins...

The paddle rising and falling... slapping once... twice... three times... against our left cheek... then four... five... six... against the other... then alternating... Val really getting into her work... the audience gasping... and counting along for twenty merciless, stinging whacks... leaving your bottom glowing red... as Barbi steps in... Val immediately smiling angelically and handing her the paddle...

Molly Whipple twitches... her burning bottom writhing... even after the spanking ends... and devious fingers grip her panties... ripping them off as Valeri speaks... "I think you just lost these... and the contest... but you can keep them..." the oily pink panties stuffed between Molly's lips as the dominating woman drags her up... Molly's head bowed as she is led by the hair...

Barbi seemingly having lost control of her own show as the audience hang on Val's every movement... clicking her fingers to summon a stage hand... who brings the requested outfit... Barbi's eyes popping as Val produces a pair of skyscraper heels... a merciless corset designed to cinch your waist to a fraction... a wicked singleglove... the trademark collar and leash... and a pair of latex panties with two immense and cruel dildos built into the inside... to make your every step an act of sexual torture...

Molly Whipple would be speechless even if not gagged with pink panties... forced to endure this humiliation... as she is transformed before a whistling catcalling audience... into a fetish toy dolly named Molly... the glove pulling back on and making her pert breasts poke out over the top of the corset... following the leash... eyes down... trembling with tingling... her glistening glutes rolling deliciously as she struts in the six inch heels... a Tail of the Whipped...

Val leading you right out of the studio as Barbi gapes... and away to who knows what fate... dominated completely... the last sight of you the cameras getting before Val spirits you to her dungeon is your bottom rolling to and fro... as the credits begin to roll on this special edition of The Darke... Tails of the Stripped...

(April 2009)