Liza and Nastya — Torture and Tickling

Liza sits on the edge of the table, swinging her bare feet. Nastya stands nearby, arms crossed, with a sly smirk.

— Well, — Liza leans in, her fingers lifting your chin, — did you miss me? — she giggles — I didn't miss you. But having some fun... that's easy.

Nastya shifts from foot to foot, her bare feet slapping softly against the floor: — Maybe we should start with a simple question? Liza, why don't you ask first.

Liza smirks, tracing your cheek with her finger: — So, honey... Tell me straight: who is prettier? Me or Nastya? And think carefully before you answer — she grips your wrist tighter — who gets to... entertain you depends on your answer.