Tails Sonic Knuckles Novels & Stories

So much so that within seconds Nadine shifted gears completely and spread her feet out as much as she could, offering her soles up instead. Only to learn that just like with any effective predicament, she couldn't actually win. Because no matter how devastating Mina's fingers could be on the top of her feet, the soles didn't get all that spotlight for nothing. And in her overeagerness to escape one sensation, Nadine had made the error of giving Mina full access to her toes. Their top sides might not have been as bad by comparison, but their soft insides were far too weak against a ticklish assault by Mina's nails.

he warned her, tracing circles around her crotch. "No bites," Tink promised, her pink tongue circling her thin lips. She ran her tongue up the side of his neck, tickling at his ear. Mike circled her pussy a few times, puzzled at the shape of it. She had a double set of labia, the inner set puffy and engorged. He ran his fingers over them slowly, enjoying how the folds squeezed at his fingers. Tink shivered in the warm water, her tail splashing the surface.

Zeke breathed, his voice full of adoration. He coated his entire right hand with lube, making it shine in the dim light. He started with three fingers, sliding them into the loose opening with no resistance at all. Eli moaned, pushing down, greedy for more. Zeke added a fourth, then his thumb, tucking his fingers into a cone shape. He pressed forward, twisting his wrist slowly, letting the broadest part of his hand stretch Eli's rim to its absolute limit. There was a moment of intense pressure, Eli's body tensing and crying out, and then with a soft, wet pop, Zeke's knuckles slid past the ring and his hand was fully inside.

Priscilla snarled, pulling back her fist, aiming straight for my jaw—only for her own knuckles to change direction and crash into her face instead. The crack of bone rang loud, and her eyes went wide in confusion. “What—what the hell is this?” I straightened. “Specially made for you,” I said evenly. “I call them the Karma Cuffs.” Her scream ripped through the air as she tried again. Her fist snapped back, smashing into her own nose this time. The crunch was ugly. She staggered, clutching her bleeding face. “I don’t need to explain how it works? Should I?” Tyla bounced on her heels.

My head rings, and my vision blurs from the strike. My ears ring as I fumble on the ground. What the hell? His hits are hard, too hard. I look at his gloves and notice the tape around his knuckles outlining more than knuckles. Faint gold shining through split tape I realize why he's hitting with such force. He has fucking brass knuckles on! "Hey!" I yell at the guy standing outside the ring, trying to inform him of the knuckles. I run to the other side of the ring, wiping and smearing blood from my eye from my face.

Knox is on the floor. Shirtless, soaked in sweat, and something about his body is WRONG in a way that my brain tries to reject before my eyes finish processing it. The muscles under his skin are moving – MOVING, shifting and rippling like something underneath is trying to rearrange itself, and his hands are pressed flat against the hardwood and his fingers are tipped with something that isn’t fingernails. They’re longer and curved and dark and they’ve gouged lines into the floor like trenches, and the word my brain supplies is CLAWS even though that word doesn’t belong in a sentence about a human being.

Knelt on one knee before me. His broad palm closed around my right wrist with devastating precision. No brute force. But his fingertips scorched like live coals. He lifted my hand, still wet from the creek, knuckles rough with old callus, and raised it to the level of his thin, bloodless lips. He lowered his head and pressed his dry, cracked mouth directly against the raised ridge of my knuckles. Not a perfunctory touch. His rough lips moved with a friction that sent dark voltage through the skin.

"You look like a nervous rabbit. Plant your feet firmly in the dirt." Shifting my weight, I forced my boots flat against the ground. "I am not bouncing." "You are," Todd corrected, actually keeping his voice steady instead of dripping with his usual sarcasm. "Keep your knees bent. Now, give me a jab-cross combo. And don't drop your left hand this time." Throwing my left fist forward, I hit the pad, immediately following it up with my right. *Smack. Smack.* "Better," Todd nodded, taking a small step back. "But your wrists are bending. Keep them locked straight. If you hit bone with a bent wrist, you will snap your own hand in half. Try again."

I spoke it now and heard immediately it was slightly wrong, the pitch on the simultaneous-tense construction sliding flat under the Hall's acoustics. Cass held up four fingers but her index finger was bent. Wrong. Redo. "Stop," Kael said to the thing. Low and absolute. "She has seven seconds before—" "Stop talking." The pressure in the air spiked. Fen moved from the right wall, his tattoos fully alive, a wall of shadow building between the thing and me, not blocking its physical position but absorbing the acoustic attack, swallowing the sound before it could reach me. I spoke line four again. Cass: four fingers, straight.

I squeeze my knuckles underneath while my other arm is ready to pull the trigger. I put my other arm which holds the taser into the water and slowly, I turn it on.