Laboratory 2C-1

This whole "experimentation" thing is none of your business, you decide. The catgirl scientist would probably take it amiss if you either interfered with her experiment or let it go, so your best course of action is to pretend that this never happened, and you turn around to leave before someone notices that you've been wandering around.

"Going somewhere?"

The soft female voice, delivered with the hint of a purr, makes your heart leap into your throat, sucking the moisture from your mouth and bringing a flush to your face. As you complete your turn, you are greeted by the expected face of the feline woman who greeted you upon your entrance. A small, knowing smile curves her petite mouth, a rather evil-looking claw resting against her cheek. Her garnet eyes meet yours, boring into your skull and finding out when you last washed your underwear. Or so it seems, anyway. A stray thought of pushing her aside and making a run for it - she is rather small - is quashed as you realize you are in the heart of her territory, and for all you know, a gesture could activate the devices and trap you for who knows how long. Likewise an idea of overpowering her is quickly dispensed with. You realize you really have no choice but to do as she says. "Well?" she purrs again, eyes flickering up and down your body quickly, taking you in. You remember her question and shake your head slowly. "Good. Then, since you seem to be so curious, why don't you stay and watch?" Without warning, she places her hands on your shoulders and gives you a push.

Your startled yell is cut off as you land in a soft chair which somehow got behind you. Letting out a breath and trying to calm your racing heart, you realize that the chair is moving again, apparently on some kind of track. It takes you to a spot fairly close to the test subject, who, upon hearing the voices and noises, has redoubled her fidgeting, but gone silent, mouth pressed into a small line. The silence lasts only as long as it takes for the catgirl to cross the distance to the table and trace a claw delicately under the spikey blonde's arm. Immediately a small, snorted giggle results, and the catgirl's ears twitch, her smile growing. You realize that those claws are no joke as she begins lightly tracing them along the blonde's exposed body, bringing greater struggles and, at first, small, suppressed giggles, which become louder and less controlled as the catgirl continues.

Soon, the feline scientist has the spikey blonde dancing entirely to her tune, a tune made up mostly of giggling and shrieked laughter. The precision of her movements is impressive, and it's clear that she knows exactly what to do in order to produce a desired sound. Gentle strokes of her nails underneath the blonde's arms bring rapid, squealing giggles and quite a bit of struggling. Tracing along her ribs brings loud, shrieking laughter, and the greatest amount of struggling. You notice that her fingers spend most of their time at the blonde's ribs. Gently tweaking and stroking the blonde's sides causes deep, nearly breathless laughter and much kicking of feet and wriggling of fingers in helpless movement. Every so often, a fingernail will dip slightly into the girl's navel and wriggle slightly, bringing a surprised shriek of laughter and more often than not what sounds like a plea for mercy. This goes on for some time, a red color creeping into the spikey blonde's cheeks and sides.

Finally with an incredible breathless shriek, the blonde girl acquiesces, and the catgirl ceases, tilting her head close to the blonde's mouth in order to hear what is being said. It is far too soft for you to overhear, and in any case whatever is said takes only a moment. The catgirl straightens, unstrapping the blonde and removing her blindfold, then passing her a water bottle before heading off into the lab. After a minute, the girl gets up, and glowers at you as she clutches her clothes to her chest, and you get the hint, getting up and heading back to the lab's entrance. As you pass the terminal bank where the catgirl scientist first greeted you, you see her curled up in her chair with a book. The spikey-haired blonde stomps past you, mumbling something about a better hiding place next time. Blinking in a bit of confusion, you glance between the reading catgirl and the blonde, who is now out of sight up the stairs... you think to follow her, but by the time you have reached the Anteroom, she is nowhere to be seen.

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