Easing out the Kinks, Part Seven

Eventually, we got some alone time and I got the clamps off and blushingly handed them off to Penthouse.

Perhaps seeing that I was a little anxious, Craftsmate started to tickle my wrist. I attempted to swat his hand away, pouting. With a smirk, Craftsmate snatched my wrist and prodded his finger into my ribs. I felt Penthouse grab onto my other wrist, holding it firmly.

“Guys,” I whined when they started tickling me, stopping only to switch their grasp so my arms were crossed over my chest. Satisfied, they sat back and attempted to watch the television while I groaned and squirmed on the couch. I went back and forth between asking one to let me go, and when he refused, I’d just turn to the other and ask. However, I was completely unsuccessful.

Eventually, they let go of my arms, claiming that maybe I deserved a few minutes to prove that I could behave. I huffed and gave Penthouse a shove. “You guys are assholes,” I said right before Penthouse grabbed my arm and bent it behind my back.

My face was pressed against the couch and Craftsmate was holding firmly onto my other arm before I could realize what had happened. I groaned and tried to wrench my arms away. “You know what she hates?” Craftsmate said before reaching down and pinching my ass. Penthouse joined him, both laughing and enjoying themselves.

“Fuck you,” I replied, somewhere between irritated and aroused. What can I say? I like being ganged up on.

Penthouse reached up and looped his fingers into my hair. “You’re being rude,” he chastised, “now be sweet to Craftsmate and give him a kiss.”

“On the cheek,” Craftsmate added, “because you’ve been a brat.”

I huffed and complied. For people who weren’t always compatible in communication, Penthouse and Craftsmate were far too good at working together to torment me.