☃️Baby it's Cold Outside☃️ :: Pages 133-137 (Patreon)

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“Ya know how hard it is fer me to  control  myself when I feel how soft yer pretty little breasts are?”  he asked and to her horror his voice started to pant with excitement.

“Sans…” she managed to find her voice.  She tried to sound firm as she moved her hands up to his and tried to pry his hands away from her chest.  She did managed to move them away from her upper body but she knew  it was only because he let her move them.  

They now rested on her stomach.

“Stop it, Sans.  Get off me.”

His chuckling got deeper and much darker as he pulled her even closer to him.  His ribs poked her back.  She cringed as he dipped his head low until it rested on her shoulder and gave her neck a lick with his gooey long tongue.  

Despite the unwanted attention, Frisk felt her body give out a slight shiver of something that wasn’t quite disgust.  Her self-worth fell while her self-hatred grew.  

This whole situation was….sick.  Sick and insane and still so unbelievable and yet despite all that Frisk was still baffled on how could her body could respond in an almost positive way to his tongue.  She knew her weak point was her neck, but damn it...for real?  She knew from the many times Derek..forced himself on her there were moments that were...pleasurable for her but with Derek  she thought she was in love with him.  That was until she woke the hell up and got away from him.  

With Sans there was no love.  So...why did her body respond that way?  Wasn’t her situation degrading enough?  How weak was she that she couldn’t even control her body’s reactions towards somebody she legitimately hated and feared?  

Sans, on the other, wasn’t exactly displeased with the way she responded.      

Your neck is sensitive isn’t it?   his voice echoed in her mind.   Yer legs almost gave out from a little lick.  That’s adorable, dollface.  

A hot shameful blush came over Frisk’s face as Sans chuckled.  

Stop it, Sans, she pleaded in her mind, hoping her thoughts had more of an effect on him than her actual words would.  Instead they only seemed to further excite the skeleton.  

“Blushing too?” Sans’ real voice and laughter made Frisk’s shame grow.  It was bad enough he called her out on the most sensitive part of her body, but his laughter only made things worse.  

His laughter was a constant reminder that she was nothing more than a little doll for him to play with.  Or at least she was until she found a way to escape her collar.  

“That’s pretty cute too.  I wonder how deep that blush can get,” he whispered in her ear.