Hot Summer Job/Continue toying with Larissa

You're all the way interested in cute, submissive little Larissa. You need to know what else you can do to your sister's friend.

"-eye ants eel reaarry weet." Larissa picks and roams her lap with her fingers as she mumbles this realization. You have no idea how she failed to notice this when she could see, especially since she had a purple stream cascading down her front when she stuck her tongue out a few minutes ago.

The polished metal from a pair of handcuffs manages to catch your eye. Your heart skips a beat when you shuffle over and pick them from the pile. They're pretty hefty. These do not feel fake.

"It's from our popsicles," your sis explains, grabbing them from atop the mattress. There's now a purple wet spot on the sheets as well. Collateral damage of sorts.

"How about some bracelets Larissa?" you ask innocently. Your sister looks at you wide-eyed, stifling a giggle when she sees the handcuffs.

"-kay!"

"Alright. I just need your wrists."

Larissa demurely holds her hands up in front of her face. You quickly snap on the first cuff, needing to click all the way down to the smallest latch for it to fit her wrists. But once you get this secured you come up with another fun idea.

"-iss is hea-y," comments Rissa.

"One sec."

You pull on the chain connecting Larissa's tiny nipples and pass the second cuff through the loop. Only then do you affix it to her other wrist, having to pull it closer to her body to reach.

"Is -iss a -racelet??" she asks, a note of confusion coming from her.

"They're handcuffs!" declares Bree. "So I can do this!"

Your sister leans forward and shoves both popsicles into the younger girl's mouth, barely fitting both of them inside the ring gag. Larissa once again gags a little, and tries to bring her hands up to stop it. But the chains looped through her cuffs makes that difficult. Pulled taught, the clamps tug on her nipples and force a muffled grunt from the 9 year old. Her head back trying to evade the popsicles, she can just flick her fingers against Bree's hands.

Bree pulls back after a moment, smiling happily at her friend's worsening predicament. It seems like this is just some weird game to her.

Rissa drops her head and wipes around her mouth with her fingers. "-at's not niesh."

"Okay. Stick your tongue out!"

Despite everything (or maybe because of?) Larissa is still so compliant. She sits up and blindly presents her tongue through her gaping mouth. Bree gently places the tip of a single popsicle right in the center, dabbing it playfully before laying it down lengthwise and rubbing it over the entire surface of Rissa's dainty tongue. Side to side. Front to back. She even it swirls it over the side and dips between Rissa's tongue and lower lip. In very short order more syrupy melt is running off the tip and down onto her pants. But this time some of it splatters on Larissa's hands, held up just below chest height.

"Weit..." Rissa pulls back, disappointing your sister, before rubbing at the purple drool on the back of her hands. "-eye ants are arready sho weet."

"Oh. Then just take them off!"

"...uh?"

"If you don't want to get popsicle on your pants, then just take off your pants!"

"I... gessh sho." She tilts her head down in some sort of contemplation then just pauses. Bree doesn't wait for her.

"Here, I can do it!"

"O, -at's ooaaUGH!"

Bree shoves her friend into a blind trust fall, landing with a small bounce against the mattress. Larissa kicks out her legs from under her and starts an attempt at rolling over, but with her hands effectively cuffed to her nipples she has as hard of a time as a turtle on its back. Bree is all smiles as she reaches forward and tugs at the waistband of her friend's sweatpants. She pulls forcefully on the front, stretching them downward and exposing the front of Rissa's pink polkadot panties. But the unfavorable technique makes it hard for the back to slip its way between Rissa's butt and the air mattress below. As they inch their way down, the back of Rissa's panties come with them.

"-eye -an-ies!"

Bree doesn't understand or doesn't care, yanking and stretching the pants harder and further. Eventually they pop free after having lowered the polkadot panties all the way off Rissa's bum.

• WIP