Alicia was wallpaper quiet, pale skin, jet-black hair, the kind of girl who faded into the corner and liked it there. But quiet girls fall the hardest. Her laugh wasn’t soft or polite. It was loud, explosive, and wrong for a girl who hid so well.

Alicia slid her feet into the stocks like she was testing the water. First time. First mistake. Her arches were the kind you don’t forget, soft, highly arched, begging for trouble. And trouble showed up quick. The first touch lit her up, laughter spilling out of her, sweet and desperate all at once. Alicia kept looking at me like she couldn’t believe it was happening, like disbelief could buy her a way out. It couldn’t. She wasn’t here to win. She was here to find out just how bad she could lose.

Alicia had never had her feet tickled before... Not like this. Her laugh didn’t come from her throat. It came from somewhere deeper, raw, involuntary, like something primal got dragged to the surface and refused to leave. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t cute. It was real. Too real for someone like her. Because you can't fake a laugh like that. And no reasonable girl would ever let a stranger hear it. But Alicia didn’t let it happen. It took her.

Alicia thought she was safe, first-timer charm and a hopeful smile. But it didn’t take long. She giggled. Then giggled harder trying to stop the first one. And just like that her laughter snowballed, turning confusion into chaos. She squirmed, begged, laughed until words didn’t work. Her thoughts? Lost somewhere between “please stop” and “don’t you dare.” Alicia looked shocked by the sound coming out of her mouth, like she didn’t know she could get that desperate, that fast.