In the last piece, Vicky had some sharp words for Tempest. It's not always the best idea to snip at the person who's just finishing up a nice, thorough box tie on your arms, but Vicky had asked for it, along with the particularly vulnerable positioning of your bare paws.

Only when Vicky was good and satisfied that Tempest's ropework was up to satisfactory, did she direct the cheetah to the feathers stashed in her pocket. A smug grin formed across Tempest's muzzle as everything came together. Vicky never specified exactly what Tempest should use the feathers for, but she did keep her mouth shut as Tempest sat in front of her, chose which of Vicky's paws to go after first, and brought the feather to her fearful, curling toes.

Suddenly, there were no more sharp words, only soft fibers, against Vicky's soft pads, and soft giggles, from a soft kitty. Vicky started to squirm, her arms and legs writhing in the very ropes she'd just had Tempest tie them with. Her toes flexed and spread, curled and shied away from the feather, that one little feather that already had Vicky flustered as she tried helplessly to get her paw out of its ticklish way. Tempest's soft cheetah paws were very much on display, too, her deep black pads and sandy yellow soles a fun contrast to Vicky's white soles and pink pads, with the notable difference that Tempest's paws were not the paws in the vulnerable position. With Vicky unwilling to admit defeat and use the safe word, at least for now, Tempest was about to have lots of fun, and there was still another paw, squirming and wriggling underneath Vicky's other bound knee, that had yet to be touched. Vicky would soon realize the commitment she'd made, when she asked a cheetah to tie and tickle her, when that cheetah turns out to very much enjoy a pair of bound, helpless paws.