The Misadventures of O-Girl: Guess Who Is Coming for Dinner?

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countrichtofen
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SCENE 1

Determined to stay one step ahead of the Capital City’s criminal element, O-Girl decides to pay an unannounced visit to the recently paroled Lady Lovelace and her Lovelace College for Girls, a dubious preparatory school that in the past educated young ladies in the devious arts of bondage and crime. But now, with the foiled Apparel Obsessia caper behind them, Lady Lovelace and her institue for higher learning are supposedly reformed.

O-Girl, however, suspects otherwise. Intent on making sure that Lady Lovelace and her bevy of co-eds are not intent on future misdeeds, O-Girl sneaks in a window and promptly finds a secret passage.

"Mmmm. I wonder what they are hiding in here?" she muses aloud. Her suspicions piqued, she slinks down the darkened corridor to discover whether it holds any ilicit secrets, stepping softly and carefully so as not to make any noise. As she advances cautiously, she is unaware of how unwittingly provocative her movements are; as she bends over to peer down the hallway and perk up her ears, her firm apple-perfect bottom juts out behind her, offering itself to the figure that, unbeknownest to her, is creeping up behind her in the shadows.

Her stalker jabs a fork into O-Girl’s left buttock.

“Ow!” yelps the purple-clad crimefightress, spinning around to see Lady Lovelace smiling wickedly and holding a fork. “What have you done?!” demands O-Girl, unaware that Lady Lovelace’s star student, Lauren, is now sneaking up on her from the other side.

“Why, I stuck a fork in you, my dear O-Girl,” says Lady Lovelace. From behind her, Lauren jabs another fork into O-Girl’s shapely rear, this time on her other buttock, causing O-Girl to jump with a yelp and look over her shoulder at her second assailant.

“And so did I!” boasts Lauren.

“Good girl!” praises Lady Lovelace.

“But . . . why?” asks O-Girl, perplexed as an odd feeling washes over her.

“Because, dearie, you are quite done . . . for!” replies Lady Lovelace. She laughs together with Lauren.

“Oh! Whatever do you mean?!”

“You see, O-Girl, our survelliance cameras picked you up just as I was planning my next Home Economics class: a lesson on dinner party preparation,” explains Lady Lovelace. “This surprise appearance of yours is therefore most serendipitous, for, you see, I was at quite a loss as to what to do to make today's class entertaining. But then the sight of your delicious voluptousness gave me a most delectable idea. So I asked Lauren to dip these forks in a potent paralyzing poison and join me for a little bush hunt.”

“And that’s how we bagged you!” blurts in Lauren with pride.

“I . . . can . . . barely . . . move!”

Lauren and Lady Lovelace laugh at O-Girl’s predicament. “I’m not surprised, O-Girl! This is potent paralyzing poison. A jab with a pointy object like a fork is enough to get it through your pantyhosed derriere and into your bloodstream. Soon, you won’t be able to move a muscle.”

“And . . . then . . . what?!”

“Oh, and then I am counting on you to stay for dinner. You see, O-Girl, I’ve already put you down for tonight’s dinner party . . . as the main course!”

Lady Lovelace and Lauren break out into more laughter. O-Girl can now only move her eyes.

“Lauren, be a sweetheart and give me a hand,” says Lady Lovelace. They take hold of the still O-Girl and begin to pose her. “Legs shoulder-width apart, I think,” says Lady Lovelace as she and Lauren reposition O-Girl’s legs. “Hands on hips, like so.” As they do as they wish with her, O-Girl helplessly looks on, moving her eyes from one of her handlers to the other as they manipulate her body. Lady Lovelace and Lauren step back to admire their handy work.

“What do you think?” asks Lady Lovelace.

“Hmmmm,” ponders Luaren, “Something is missing.”

“Yes, you are quite right.” They look at the paralyzed O-Girl critically for a moment, and then Lady Lovelace says, “Oh, I know!” She walks up to O-Girl and uses her fingers to push up the corner’s of the hapless heroines mouth, making her smile involuntarily. Then she steps back to get a good look at her. The smiling O-Girl’s eyes move from one of her observers to the other.

“Perfect!” says Lauren.

“You see, Lauren, presentation is everything!”

“That was fun! Like I was playing with a life-sized O-Girl doll, posing her like a storefront dummy!”

“Yes, and this particular storefront dummy was kind enough to unwittingly step right onto our dumb waiter.” Lady Lovelace hits an intercom button on the wall and speaks into it. “Girls, I have quite a surprise catch for today’s Home Economics class. Get the grill ready and I’ll send down our mouthwatering main ingredient. Make sure you tie her down tightly.”

“What are we going to do with her?” asks Lauren excitedly.

“I’ve got a very special recipe in mind,” says Lady Lovelace, giving O-Girl a spank on her rear. She hits another button and the dumb waiter begins to lower the captured crimefightress. “One Grade A rump roast headed your way!” she calls into the intercom.

Lauren and Lady Lovelace laugh and point at the descending O-Girl, whose eyes dart about nervously.

- OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO -
flagonforge
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wow, great start- I'm imagining Christina Carter in this scene - nicely done. Not a fan of cannibalism, but this could be interesting.
countrichtofen
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SCENE 2

O-Girl, fully recovered from the paralyzing poision, struggles against ropes that have her pinned down spread-eagle on an over-sized grill affixed to an equally over-sized spit. She is tied down at her wrists and ankles, with an additional rope around her waist. A gaggle of giggling schoolgirls stands over her in eager expectation of what their headmistress has in store for the curvaceous crimefightress. O-Girl grunts and wriggles sexily as she twists and turns, testing her bonds and eliciting appreciative “ohs” and “ahs” from her onlookers.

From a door at the far end of the room, Lady Lovelace enters the classroom. “Ah, I see our special guest has been expertly prepped and is ready to begin. Welcome, O-Girl, to Home Economics 1-Oh-1!” O-Girl lifts up her head to see the villainess step towards her with a sinister smile and position herself by O-Girl’s feet.

“Lady Lovelace! What is the meaning of this . . . bizarre contraption?!” demands O-Girl.

“It’s a girl grill, my dear. Or, in this case, an O-Girl grill. You see, my lucious lovely, today we are preparing a very special dish . . . and you are the main ingredient!”

“We tied her up nice and tight! She won’t be getting out of these knots!” brags a schoolgirl.

“Well done, girls,” praises Lady Lovelace.

“Yes, and soon she will be, too!” chimes in another schoolgirl, her pun provoking a round of laughter.

“Shall I fire up the grill, heamistress?” asks Lauren, eagerly.

O-Girl gasps.

“Oh, no, no, no!” chides Lady Lovelace. “A fine catch like O-Girl must be prepared with extra loving care. And ever so slowly. Let us savor the moment . . . before we savor her!” They all laugh sinisterly.

“What are you going to do to me?!” demands O-Girl, mustering all the defiance she can given her predicament.

“Oh, I have a very special recipe in mind for you, O-Girl!” Lady Lovelace turns to a schoolgirl. “Is there any of that special hot sauce left over from last week?”

“Indeed there is! Gobs of it!”

“Good! Let’s baste this pretty purple pasty with it.”

O-Girl gasps and struggles frantically. The schoolgirls giggle as they move over to the cupboards. Lady Lovelace, meanwhile, strokes O-Girl’s pantyhosed gams.

“Mmmm, you look so irresistably yummy, O-Girl, trussed up as you are on my girl grill. I can’t wait to see you laid out on my dinner table!”

“You demented deviant!”

Lady Lovelace laughs at the intended insult just as the schoolgirls return and position themsevles all around the bound crimefightress, each holding a jar with a brush dipped in viscous content. Lauren hands Lady Lovelace a jar of her own.

“Shall I gag her?” asks Lauren eagerly.

“In due time. For now, O-Girl’s vocalizations serve both to educate and entertain. Observe. When basting our tasty morsel, be sure to apply the sauce generously.” Lady Lovelace loads her brush with a good helping from the jar and begins to apply it on O-Girl’s thighs.

“Ugh! What is this stuf?!” protests O-Girl as she squirms on the girl grill.

“It’s my own special hot sauce, my dear. And it is guaranteed to spice you up!”

“Oh! Whatever do you mean?!”

“Girls, do join in. And make sure you tend to every inch of O-Girl’s scrumptious figure!”

The schoolgirls “oh” and “ah” as they dip their brushes and begin to coat O-Girl with the hot sauce, some smearing it slowly all over her legs while others swirl it about lazily on her bosom, licking their lips as they do so. All the while, O-Girl gasps and squirms.

Lady Lovelace turns her attenton to O-Girl’s midsection, taking her time as she works her way down to the heroine`s crotch.

“I . . . feel . . . so . . . tingly!” remarks a surprised O-Girl as Lady Lovelace's brush frolics on her venus mound.

Lady Lovelace and the schoolgirls laugh. “That’s the hot sauce having its affect on your body, O-Girl. But the tingling is only the beginning. Soon it will have your nerve endings on fire, and then you’ll be completely helpless to the sensations bubbling all over you.”

“Oh! Oh, goodness! And then what?!”

“And then you’ll find yourself in a state of permanent arousal that will keep you deliciously helpless. For you see, O-Girl, the sauce has already soaked through your sexy outfit, acting on your delectable flesh, heating you up in more ways than one. Soon, it will have you simmering in your own juices!”

“Ah! Oh! Oh, no! This can’t be!” exclaims O-Girl as she twists and turns on the over-sized grill, trying to avoid her captors’ brushstrokes.

“Shouldn’t we have undressed her first?” asks a schoolgirl.

“Oh, no. You see, the hot sauce will cook O-Girl from the inside out. Her pantyhose and her other garmets thus serve to seal in her flavor.”

“Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh! You . . . mmmmm . . . fiends!” moans O-Gir as she wriggles on the grill.

“Wow! She really is a spicy one!” remarks Lauren.

“Indeed!” says Lady Lovelace, dipping her brush in the jar and bringing it out with a huge gob of sauce. “Let’s get this scrumptious tart really cooking, shall we?” She lays the gob of hot sauce on O-Girl’s crotch and begins brush-swatting her maidenhead, sending droplets flying and working O-Girl up into a frenzy that ends in a loud, convulsing orgasm.

“Wow! You were right, mistress! It is more fun when she isn’t gagged!”

Lady Lovelace smiles at Lauren as O-Girl gasps and twitches in post-orgasmic spasms.

“Keep it at, girls. Sauce her up with evrything we’ve got. Lauren, fire up the grilll and let’s get O-Girl spinning.”

As the other schoolgirls apply their brushes on the moaning O-Girl, Lauren skips over to the controls on the wall, flicks a switch and turns a dial. Electric heaters from below O-Girl light up. Lauren then returns to the grill and steps on a pedal. With a low hum, the spit activates and the girl grill begins to slowly turn, rotating O-Girl over the heat source.

“Oh, goodness!” goes O-Girl. “Am I to be roasted alive!”

“Precisely, my most succulent O-Girl! Take notes, girls. Reports on cannibalism tell us that we can expect O-Girl here to taste a bit like pork. That’s why victims in her position are often referred to as longpigs. Given her state of helpless arousal, I think it is safe to say that O-Girl is well on her way to becoming Oink-Girl!” Lady Lovelace and the schoolgirls laugh at the crimefightress’ predicament, and begin a chorus of “Oink! Oink!” just as the spit finishes taking O-Girl on her first full rotation.

“Oh! Stop her here, Lauren!” instructs Lady Lovelace. Lauren steps on the pedal and the spit halts. Lady Lovelace runs a finger along O-Girl’s slit, collecting a helping of hot saue on her finger tip and eliciting a loud moan from the hapless heroine. She sucks on her finger and goes, “Mmmm! You are coming along so nicely, O-Girl! You are going to make such a yummy main course. Now girls, every time she comes around, baste her some more before sending her twirling again. I like my O-Girl nice and juicy!”

The girl’s attack the prone O-Girl with her brushes, stroking her legs, her crotch, her tits, and getting at her buttocks as best they can, causing her to orgasm loudly once more.

“Why, look who is coming for dinner, girls? It’s Oink-Girl, marinating in her own juices!” The girls laugh as O-Girl moans.

Just then one of the schoolgirls glances up at a surveliance monitor above the doorway and says, “She’s not the only one who has come for dinner.”

Lady Lovelace and the other schoolgirls turn their attention to the monitor. Even O-Girl, in her aroused state, manages to lift her head up to have a look.

“Nylonika!” gasps O-Girl.

“My, my,” says Lady Lovelace with a smile. “It looks like we’ll be adding dessert to the menu. Lauren, gag O-Girl and send her spinning again.” Lauren gags O-Girl with a ballgag that has a rubber apple as the ball. “Girls, let’s give Nylonika a special treat . . . before we treat ourselves to her!”

Lady Lovelace and her schoolgirls exit the room in laughter, leaving O-Girl moaning and groaning through her apple ballgag as she is rotated over the electric heaters.

- OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO -
omike1981
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What fiendish trap awaits Nylonika?
BDUDU
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I really enjoyed this story..Are you going to write more?
countrichtofen
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Thanks! I've got it all in my head. Just have to commit it to paper. Am swamped with work and travel at the moment, and it doesn't look like I'll be able to pick this up again till August. Bear with me.
ltrltr
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Great story. I am hearing Christina and Diana's voices as I read that.
frann wonder
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This is an excellent story! It perfectly balances campiness with the more "mature" elements. Everything from the heroine's innocent protestations to the villains' sinister cackles is pitch perfect.

I only wish there were more stories in this genre that did it so well.

Please continue this story next month. I really can't wait to see how this ends/continues wih the next course!
countrichtofen
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frann wonder wrote:This is an excellent story! It perfectly balances campiness with the more "mature" elements. Everything from the heroine's innocent protestations to the villains' sinister cackles is pitch perfect.

I only wish there were more stories in this genre that did it so well.

Please continue this story next month. I really can't wait to see how this ends/continues wih the next course!
Thank you for the kind words, Frann Wonder. I've taken my cue from Jim Weathers over at bondagecafe.com, whose O-Girl videos are among the best in the genre IMHO. Would love to see what he could do with this script. I will be serving up Scene 3 shortly.
frann wonder
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Great to hear!

Hope your next "serving" comes with healthy helpings of O-Girl and Nylonika!
frann wonder
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Still hungry ...
countrichtofen
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SCENE 3

O-Girl’s failure to check-in as they had arranged leads Nylonika to follow in her partner’s footsteps and sneak into the Lovelace College for Girls. As she slinks sexily and quitely along the corridors of the disreputable institution, she is brought to a halt by the sound of a woman’s cries of distress . . . or pleasure . . . or both! She cups her ear with her hand and strains to listen. The cries are unmistablable and she decides to see where they lead her.

As she makes her way cautiously down the hallway, the cries become more distinct and Nylonika gasps, bringing her hand to her mouth, as she clearly recognizes O-Girl’s voice:

“I . . . feel . . . so . . . tingly!”

Then laughter, including the malicious, gloatful laugh of Lady Lovelace herself.

“That’s the hot sauce having its affect on your body . . . “

Nylonika advances with determination, but still slowly and quietly so as not to make a sound. The voices become clearer with each step.

“Ah! Oh! Oh, no! This can’t be happening!” It is O-Girl’s voice, in obvious distress . . . but also in what sounds like a state of arousal. And then:

“Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh! You . . . mmmmm . . . fiends!”

“Wow! She really is a spicy one!” A third voice: Lauren, the teacher’s pet.

Nylonika peeks around a corner and sees a door at the far end of another long corridor. She then hears O-Girl cry out in orgasmic passion. That leaves her no doubts: the voices are emanating from behind that door. Nylonika takes deliberate steps towards it, but always slowly making sure each step is soundless.

“Keep at it, girls. Sauce her up with evrything we’ve got.” It’s Lady Lovelace’s voice. “Lauren, fire up the grilll and let’s get O-Girl spinning.”

Nylonika reaches the end of the corridor and puts her hand on the door handle.

“Oh, goodness!” goes O-Girl's voice. “Am I to be roasted alive?!”

Nylonika barges into the room, announcing, “I’ll save you, O- . . . Girl?”

Her voice trails off as she quickly realizes that the scene before her is far from what she expected.

Lady Lovelace and her schoolgirls are lined up along the wall opposite the door, wearing dark glasses and smiling sinisterly at her. Behind them, O-Girl’s perilous predicament is being projected on a full-sized movie screen. O-Girl is shown tied down to the giant grill and being slowly rotated over the heat source while her tormentors gleefully look on.

Lady Lovelace points a remote control at the screen behind her and the video pauses.

“Why hello, Nylonika,” says the Headmistress, giving her the once over and adding, “ . . . you sweet thing.” The schoolgirls also ogle her, all smiles and evil anticipation. “We've been expecting you. But, tell me, my dear, why the look of disappointment? Were you hoping to find someone else?”

Nylonika defiantly strikes the classic heroine pose, feet shoulder-width apart and hands on hips. “Lady Lovelace, your days of villainy are over! Release O-Girl this instant!”

“Oh, I’m afraid we can’t do that, Nylonika. The dinner invitations have already gone out, together with the menu, featuring O-Girl as this evening’s piece de resistance. We wouldn’t want to disappoint our guests, would we, girls?”

“Nooooooo,” go the schoolgirls, letting out giggles.

“You see, Nylonika, O-Girl isn’t going anywhere, except where she belongs . . . served up on my dining room table.”

“Sorry to ruin your well laid dinner plans, Lady Lovelace. But O-Girl belongs nowhere but here, with me by her side.”

“Oh, but you haven’t ruined my dinner plans at all, my dear. In fact, you’ve complemented them. For you see,Nylonika, for once you and I agree. You indeed do belong beside O-Girl, and I intend to place you there . . . as an addendum to the menu!”

“If you intend to make a SIDE dish of me, you are bound to be sorely disappointed,” retorts Nylonika, attempting a pun of her own.

“A side dish?” ponders Lady Lovelace. “Now that’s not a bad idea; very fittng for a sidekick.” She remains thoughtful for a moment, an index finger on her chin, before turning her eyes to her nylon-clad adversary. “But I've already made other plans for you, Nylonika.”

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested. Now release O-Girl and come along quietly.”

“Oh, but it is you who will be cumming, Nylonika . . . and rather loudly. For you see, we have a special treat in store for you that I think you will find most interesting.”

The schoolgirls giggle appreciatively.

“I’m not sure what you are implying, Lady Lovelace, nor do I care.”

“Oh, aren’t you a haughty, haughty girl! You must be taught a lesson in manners. Brace yourself, Nylonika! For we will not tolerate any more sass from you! No! The next thing that will pass through those lucious lips of yours will be sweet . . . yes, so very sweet . . . Lauren!”

“Sweet and stiff and sticky!” says Lauren, advancing on Nylonika, her hands behind her back and a huge smile on her face.

Nylonika shifts into a fighting stance, her eyes focused on Lauren, her body primed to react to whatever the criminal co-ed may be about to spring from behind her back.

“Welcome to the Lovelace College for Girls!” says a beaming Lauren, just steps away from Nylonika. “Won’t you gracefully accept . . . “ Lauren begins to slowly bring her right hand out from behind her back, drawing Nylonika’s riveted attention to what she is holding. “. . . this very special treat?”

Nylonika gasps. In her right hand, Lauren holds a large, black penis-shaped lollipop on a stick, with a white swirl running from its tip and coiling around the shaft all the way down to its base.

“Oh, my!” says Nylonika, taking a step back but unable to take her eyes off the treat.

“Irresistable, isn’t it?” asks Lady Lovelace rhetorically. “There’s something about these litle treats that women find irresistable. And clearly,” remarks the villainess, staring at Nylonika’s chest, “you are no expection.”

Nylonika glances down at her breasts and notices her nipples perked up and straining against her sheer black body stocking. “Oh, gracious! I . . . I don’t know what’s . . . come over me!”

“Cum over you, Nylonika? Apt choice of words, my dear, especailly considering what I intend to do with you later. But for now . . . ” Lady Lovelace nods at Lauren.

“Oh, Nylonika,” says Lauren in a sing-song voice. Nylonika looks at her and Lauren points the black lollipop at her face. Then, with the stick between her palms, she bings to twirl it, giving Nylonika the entrancing illusion that the white swirl is sliding up and down the shaft.

“Oh, goodness!” goes Nylonika. "Wh-what's . . . happening . . . to . . . me?!"

"It's the lollipop, dearie," explains Lady Lovelace. "We still don't know quite what it is about these treats, but the mere sight of one has a most curious mesmerizing effect on our female guests."

“Tell us, Nylonika, are you a sucker for suckers?”

“It does look . . . so . . . .” She bites her lower lip and sighs.

“Would you like to lick it, Nylonika?” says Lauren slyly. “It’s licorice flavored . . . to go with your costume.”

“Oh, my! I . . . I do so like licorice,” says a swooning Nyonika. “But . . .I . . . I . . . shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” says Lauren, “but you will, won’t you?”

“Oh . . no! No . . . I . . . mustn’t! Must . . save . . O-Girl!”

“Come now, Nylonika! Forget O-Girl. Won’t you have just one lick? You know you want to.”

“Oh . . . well . . . maybe just . . . one lick." Nylonika tetters, seemingly trying to resist, before asking, "May . . . I?”

“Oh, but of course, Nylonika! It’s all for you! To welcome you to the Lady Lovelace Preparatory School for Girls!” Lauren thrusts the lollipop at the hapless heroine, who takes it gingerly from her.

“Oh . . well . . . perhaps . . . just . . . one . . . lick,” says Nylonika. She closes her eyes and slowly raises the lollipop to her lips. She sticks her tongue out and just brushes it along the tip. “Mmmmm,” she goes.

“Isn’t it yummy, Nylonika?” says Lauren.

“Mmmm hmmmm,” goes Nylonika, and she swirls her tongue around the tip.

The schoolgirls laugh at her. “Keep your glasses on, girls,” warns Lady Lovelace. “I wouldn’t want to see one of you fall under the sucker’s spell. At least not now. This is Nylonika’s solo performance.”

Nylonika swirls her tongue all around the top of the lollipop. Then she runs her tongue from the base of the shaft to the tip. Then she does it again, only the second time, when she gets to the tip, she let’s out a sigh and then parts her lips and takes in the tip of the lollipop. “Mmmmmm,” she goes as she bobs her head, taking the tip in and out of her mouth.

Then she swirls her tongue all over the sucker and takes it greedily in her mouth, slurping loudly.

“My, my, Nylonika! Are you enjoying that as much as you are letting on?” mocks Lady Lovelace.

Nylonika’s lips slide gradually up and down the lollipop until she has taken it all in her mouth. Lady Lovelace and the schoolgirls look on appreciatetively as the heroine slurps, licks, and bobs her head lustily.

“Look at her go!” remarks a schoolgirl.

Finally, after a short while, Nylonika drops the hand holding the lollipop to her side and she lets out a loud moan. She raises the back of her other hand to her forehead and sighs. “Oh . . . gracious me! I . . . suddenly . . . feel . . . so . . . sleepy!”

“Imagine that,” says a smirking Lady Lovelace.

“No wonder! You really worked over that lollipop!” blurts a beaming Lauren.

“Would you like to lie down?” suggests Lady Lovelace.

“Why . . yes . . . yes, I would.”

“Girls, do we have anything our guest can lie down on?”

A pair of schoolgirls wheel forward a dessert tray. “Just this dessert tray, headmistress.”

“Wh-what’s . . . that . . . on top?” asks Nylonika.

“Oh, just pastry dough. Don’t you mind your pretty head about it. Girls, help the lovely Nylonika lie down, won’t you?”

Two schoolgirls take her under her arms and help her up on the dessert tray. Nylonika sighs as they lay her out, legs togehter, hands down by her side, pressing her body down into the pastry dough.

Lady Lovelace strides over to admire the helpless heroine. “Sweet dreams, Nylonika,” she says, as the redhead’s eyes flutter and then close. “Girls! Let’s reunite the meddlesome pantyhosed pair for the last time. To the home economics classroom with her!"

- OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO -
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Well, this was certainly worth the wait! Hotter than the last two parts combined!
countrichtofen
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Omega Woman wrote:Well, this was certainly worth the wait! Hotter than the last two parts combined!
Thanks for the praise, Omega Woman. Glad you enjoyed it. Unfortunately, I don't expect to get around to Scene 4 for several months. I hope you'll continue to bear with me.
Radar300
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It has been several months since we have heard from you. Could you please give us an update on when you will have Scene 4. I love what you have written so far.
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Wow! Poor Nylonika! Hopefully she can get out of this pie-dick-a-ment (oh I hate myself! :) )
countrichtofen
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My apologies for the long lapse between this chapter and the one before it. And my gratitude to all of you for the 6000+ hits!

SCENE 4

“Wakey, wakey!” Lady Lovelace’s voice is the first thing Nylonika hears as she comes to.

“Ohhhh … Wh- what happened?” inquires Nylonika, her eye’s fluttering. The sight of Lady Lovelace leaning over her comes into focus.

“What happened, Nylonika, was an unforgettable display of your sucking prowess,” replies Lady Lovelace, “on one of my very special lollipops, with extra special sleepy swirl!”

Nylonika tries to move only to discover that she can’t. Her legs are pressed together and strecthed out before her and her arms, from her fingertips to her shoulders, are held firmly to her sides. Her entire body is held down, but not by straps; rather, by some sort of adhessive. “I … I’m … stuck!”

“Why, yes, that is bound to happen when you lie down on my Cutie-Catcher Cookie Dough,” says Lady Lovelace, adding, as she licks her lips, “and what a cutie we’ve caught.”

Nylonika hears a loud but muffled moan come from beyond her feet. She raises her head to look past them and sees her crimefighting partner being rotated on a giant spit.

“O-Girl! Are you alright?”

“Mmpff! … Nyomfika!” O-Girl tries to call out through her apple-shaped ball gag.

“What have you done to her?”

“We basted her in our special hot sauce. As a result, she is especially, helplessly horny. And marinating in her own juices. But I would be more concerned about what is going to happen to you, dearie.” Lady Lovelace, who had been leaning over Nylonika this whole time, now stands upright, revealing to Nylonika a full length mirror hanging above her. Now Nylonika can see that the cookie dough extends from just beyond her feet up to her neck, and that it is laid out atop a large dessert cart. “Do you like my ceiling decoration, Nylonika? I had it installed just for you. I wouldn’t want you to miss seeing what is to become of you.”

“How considerate of you,” says Nylonika sarcastically, wiggling as she tests the dough’s hold on her.

“Lauren, the icing cream if you will,” Lady Lovelace calls out to her star pupil. Lauren hands what looks like a can of regular whipped cream to Lady Lovelace and distributes others to her evilishly eager classmantes. “Girls, for the best results, start at the feet and work your way up. Follow my cue.”

Nylonika let’s out a squeal as Lady Lovelace and her bevy of sinister schoolgirls begin to apply the cream to her feet.

“Eeeek! What are you doing?!”

“Creaming you, my dear. But don’t feel left out … soon you’ll be creaming yourself, too!”

“Oh, gracious! What do you mean?!”

The schoolgirls continue to lay the cream down thick, moving up Nylonika’s pantyhosed gams. They giggle as they cream her shins.

“Oh! Oh, you fiends!” protests Nylonika, struggling to move and only managing to wiggle slightly.

The girls laugh as the cream reaches her knees and begins to climb up her thighs.

“Oh! Ah! I …. feel like … Oh! … mmmm …. a hundred greedy mouths are … mmmm …Oh! ... nibbling at me!”

“It’s the effect of my special icing cream on your delectable flesh,” explains Lady Lovelace. “The sensations will get even more intense as more of your delicious body is coated, especially when we get to your most exquistiely yummy parts!”

“Oh! What a way to go!”

Nylonika begins to succumb to the little biting sensations on her legs. She rests her head on the dessert tray and closes her eyes as she lets out a loud moan. She hears the schoolgirls around her Oh and Ah appreciatively. When she opens her eyes, she sees that the girls are nearly done creaming her upper thighs. But right when they are about to move on to her crotch, Lady Lovelace stops them.

“Wait, girls!” She grabs a banana and peels it while looking down wickedly on her hapless victim.

“Oh! What are you going to do with that?!” asks a worried yet oddly excited Nylonika.

“I’m going to mark your sweetest spot,” says Lady Lovelace. Nylonika gasps as the villaness wedges the banana between her thighs and against her crotch. Lady Lovelace and her girls then laugh and point at Nylonika’s banana-ed womanhood.

“Oh! What is the … mmmm … meaning of this!? Am I … Ah! … to become … Oh! … a human sundae!”

“Actually,” replies Lady Lovelace, “on the menu you’ll appear in the dessert section as: … Nylonika … Creamed … Pie!”

“Oh! You dastardly … mmmmm … deviants!”

“Yes, well … Girls! Let’s cream her pie!”

Lady Lovelace and all of her schoolgirls take aim at Nylonika’s maidenhead and with a signal from the headmistress, they all let the cream fly onto the nyloned do-gooder’s pantyhosed pussy.

“Eeeek!” shrieks a wide-eyed Nylonika, wiggling as much as she is able. “Oh! Oh! Mmmmm! Ah!”

“Nibble, nibble, nibble,” mocks Lady Lovelace.

Nylonika closes her eyes, tilts her head back and lets out a loud moan.

“Oh, my!” exclaims Lauren. “Creaming Nylonika is such wicked fun!”

“Indeed,” concurs Lady Lovelace. “But as much as I’d love to savor her yummy reaction to her creaming, we stil lhave much of her to top off, and we still have to set the table and get dressed to receive our guests. Besides, they’ll be plenty of time to savor her tonight … after we’ve had our fill of O-Girl, of course.”

Lady Lovelace and her pupils turn their attention to their rotating purple captive, who lets out a loud moan.

“Oh! She smells as good as she looks!” comments a schoolgirl.

“Yes, well, why don’t you and Holly go and sauce her up some more. I want her nice and juicy for this evening.”

The two schoolgirls walk over to the spit and begin stroking O-Girl with sauce-dipped brushes as she goes round and round, paying particular attention to her succulent breats, thighs and twat. O-Girl responds with moans and groans to every stroke.

“Let’s not dilly dally, girls!” says Lady Lovelace, returning her attention to Nylonika and applying more cream to the vocally aroused redhead. The other schoolgirls follow her lead.

“Oh, no!” calls out Nylonika as she is quickly creamed to her hips. The schoolgirls continue to cream her as Lady Lovelace takes out a ringed pineapple slice.

“Keep up the good work, girls, while I decorate this sweet thing,” says Lady Lovelace as she slowly slides the ringed pinapple around the banana.

“Oh!” goes Nylonika.

“Oh!” echoes Lady Lovelace mockingly as she gently pats the pineapple ring on top of Nylonika’s creamed crotch.

The cream is now up to Nylonika’s waist.

“Oh! Ah! Oh … no! Mmmmm!” goes Nylonika as, in the mirror, she watches the creaming progress up her ribs. Her body begins to tremble.

“My, my!” remakrs Lady Lovelace. “I do believe our pretty pie is about to cream her nylons!”

“Oh, no! Mmmmm! Ah! Mmmmm! I … Oh! … can’t … Ah! … take … Oh! …. much …. mmmooorre!”

“Be generous now, girls,” instructs Lady Lovelace as they begin to cream her voluptous tits.

“Ah! … No! … Ohhhh! Ah! Ah! Ah! AHHHHHHHH!” explodes Nylonika as orgasmic shudders run through her body just as her nipples are creamed.

“My, my, Nylonika! You’re just bursting with flavor, aren’t you!”

Nylonika moans in post-orgasmic bliss. “Mmmmmm … “ she goes. “Goodness me … ohhhh … what’s to … ahhhh …. become of me now? Mmmmmm …. Am I …. mmmm … to be … ohhh … reduced to … ahhhh … helpness horniness … ohhhh … like … ohhhh … O-Girl?”

“Oh, no, Nylonika, my excitable pantyhosed nymphette,” says Lady Lovelace, brushing the heroine’s hair back past her shoulders as the creaming of her breats concludes. “The cream is designed to first extract your essence. One orgasm from you is enough. Now the cream will progress to the next stage, making sure your feminine flavor stays sealed in."

“But … mmmmm … how?” asks Nylonika, still basking in the afterglow of her orgasm. She has now been creamed up to her shoulders.

“You’ll soon find out,” replies Lady Lovelace.

Suddenly, snapping out of her orgasmic stupor, Nylonika’s eyes widen and she gasps. “Wh-wh-what … i-is … i-it … d-d-doing … t-t-to ... m-m-me?!”

The schoolgirls are now creaming her neck.

“Oh, did I forget to mention it?” mocks Lady Lovelace. “Nylonika Creamed Pie, my dear, is a frozen dessert. And right now the cream is chilling your body and locking in your most yummy orgasmic flavors.”

“O-o-oh! H-h-how … d-d-d-diabolical!” says Nylonika, her teeth starting to chatter.

“Quite. Finished, girls?”

“Yes!” says Lauren, applying the last of the cream. “And so is she!” In the mirror, Nylonika sees that she has been completely creamed, from her toes to just under her chin.

“And now for the final touch,” says Lady Lovelace, placing two more ringed pineapple slices on her breasts and topping them off with one maraschino cherry each. “There! My, my, Nylonika! You’ve never looked tastier!” Then, turning to the girls by the spit: “How’s O-Girl … dare I ask? … cumming along?”

The girls laugh.

“Oh, she’s cumming along, alright,” says Holly. “Listen!”

They all cup their hands to their ears as the two girls by the spit brush-slap O-Girl’s tits and pussy, eliciting loud squeals and moans.

“Well done, girls!” praises Lady Lovelace.

“Yes, and soon she will be, too!” adds Holly. They all laugh.

“Well, this has been a fun class, girls, but as entertaining as it has been, it’s time we wrapped it up. We now have just under an hour to set the table, get dressed and serve these two up before our guests arrive. Come along, girls!”

Lady Lovelace leads her girls out of the room. At the door, she turns to wave at her hapless captives. “O-Girl, Nyloonika … thank you both for cumming! See you both at dinner ... very, very soon!” She closes the door behind her as she walks out.

“O-O-O … G-g-girl … “ calls out a shivering Nylonika. “I-i-is … th-th-there … n-no … w-way … o-out? I-i-is … th-th-this … th-th-the … e-e-end?”

As if in response, from the rotating spit, O-Girl squeals, straining against her bonds as an orgasm overcomes her.


O! What gourmet ghastliness!
O-Girl left to sizzle in a state of helpless arousal!
While Nylonika becomes a frozen creamed pie!
Is there truly no escape?
O-What diabolical dinner plans!
O-Girl served up as a scrumptious dish!
And Nylonika as a yummy dessert!
Is this truly the end of our delish duo?!
Last edited by countrichtofen 10 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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valugi
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The chapter is going well, looking forward to read more
Radar300
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Excellent Scene 4. I love it. However, you did make one mistake. It was in the use of a name. You used Darling. That is the actress. The character used by Jim Weathers and which you used earlier was Lauren. You also misspelled Holly as Holy. Otherwise everything else was superb.
countrichtofen
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Radar300 wrote:Excellent Scene 4. I love it. However, you did make one mistake. It was in the use of a name. You used Darling. That is the actress. The character used by Jim Weathers and which you used earlier was Lauren. You also misspelled Holly as Holy. Otherwise everything else was superb.

Thanks for pointing that out. You've shown yourself to be quite the O-Girl connoisseur. I've gone ahead and made the edits.
ltrltr
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That was certainly worth the wait. Very much in the essence of O Girl.
Dthunderg
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Really good can't wait to see the next part though I wonder how they are going to get out of this
countrichtofen
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I realize it's been a ridiculously long time between posts, but I always intended to wrap up this little misadventure with a closing scene. Just never got around to it until now.

EPILOGUE

Lady Lovelace walks into her bedchamber in the Lovelace College for Girls with a triumphant smile on her face. She closes the door behind her and, clenching her fists with excitement, says, “Oh, glorious day! Tonight, O-Girl and Nylonika, that troublesome twosome of goody goody do-gooders, soon to be served up as the delicous duo!” She saunters over to the bed, sits on it, and unbuckles her high heeled shoes. She lets out a laugh as she tilts her head back, kicking off her shoes. Looking at a clock on the wall she taps her index finger to her smiling lips and purrs. “Mmmmm … I do believe there’s time for a quickie.”

Lady Lovelace grabs a remote control from the night table and turns on a large screen TV. “Let’s see … classroom 1-Oh-1.” On the screen, a black-and-white closed-circuit video appears of O-Girl being rotisseried on the girl grill with the frosted, teeth-chattering Nylonika on the dessert tray nearby.

“Oh, yes, my pretties, do stuggle,” sighs Lady Lovelace, undressing. She lays back and runs a finger over the length of her pantyhosed slit as she ogles the TV. “My, my. You both do look so yummy.” As she fiddles with herself, she tilts her head back and moans.

START OF DREAM SEQUENCE

A doorbell rings and Lauren enters a room where Lady Lovelace is admiring herself in the mirror.

“Our guests are here, headmistress,” she informs her with a mischevious smile.

“Do let them in, dear,” says Lady Lovelace, smiling back at her.

In walk Lady Felina, Hypnotica, the Debutante and the Countless of Nylon, a veritable rouges’ gallery of Capitol City’s most devious criminal masterminds.

“Welcome, my darlings! I hope you’ve brought your appetites,” Lady Lovelace says. “Lauren, is dinner served?”

“Indeed it is, headmistress!” she says, giggling.

“This way, please,” says Lady Lovelace, leading the way into the dinning room.

A large table dominates the room. On it rests an over-sized silver platter with a lid on it. Lady Lovelace claps her hands loudly and orders: “Girls! Unveil the evening’s main course!”

A trio of schoolgirls lift the lid off the platter, revealing O-Girl, fully dressed and laid out over a bed of lettuce, her legs together, her arms by her side, her eyes closed and an apple stuck in her mouth.

“Ladies!” announces Lady Lovelace. “I present to you Roasted O-Girl!”

“Ohhh, what an entrancing entreé!” coos Hypnotica.

“My, what an exquisite dish!” adds the Countess of Nylon.

“She makes quite the cat’s meow!” chimes in Lady Felina.

“I love the presentation!” praises the Debutante.

“Thank you, ladies!” says Lady Lovelace, pleased with herself. “Just wait until you taste her! She’s been basted in our very special hot sauce, ensuring that she’s succulently spicy! But do leave room for dessert.”

Lady Lovelace claps her hands again and Lauren wheels out a dessert tray with Nylonika’s head sticking out of the front end of a large mound of cream, her complexion dealthy pale and her eye’s wide-open.

“Nylonika Cream Pie!” announces Lady Lovelace sweeping her arm with a flourish.

Her fellow villanesses “Oh” and “Ah” amid applause and calls of “Bravo!”

“Please, you’re too kind!” says Lady Lovelace sharpening a knife over O-Girl. “And now if you will take your seats … ” She slides the blade under the front of O-Girl’s panties and slices through its crotch. “Who cares for some O-Pussy!”

She and her fellow villanesses tilt their heads back in loud laughter.

DREAM SEQUENCE FADE OUT

Back in the bedroom, Lady Lovelace has worked herself up to a loud, shuddering orgasm. As she composes herself, she props herself up on the bed, licks her lips, and brushes the bangs out of her eyes.

“Mmmmm, how yummy!” she coos. Then, turning her eyes to the TV screen, she barks “What?!”

The black-and-white image shows an empty girl grill spining and an equally empty dessert tray.

“It can’t be!” she complains in disbelif. Then, rushing over to a wall, she hits a button labeled “RED ALERT” and, practically shouting into an intercom, she says, “Girls! Code red! O-Girl and Nylonika have escaped!”
Radar300
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I am glad you continued the story. I like what you wrote here. You might want to write the part on how they escaped in the future. That will take some doing. But I do like what you wrote here. Thank you for coming back and continuing it.
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