Exploring A Girl For Science (With Nettles)
Kami, whose stinging nettles apparently did not all die of gray rot like some I could mention, writes about her first experiences with them. She sounds like a fan:
We went for a walk. I can’t remember what I have done or said, when I heard a loosely said remark that there is so many nettles around that could be put into good use.
Gulp…
Still, my curiosity won. It wasn’t long when I was forced to pull down my panties and the nasty nettle was forced upon my sore and tender bum. It stung like hell (I bet you wouldn’t guess that). I suppose the fact that my skin was already a bit damaged made it worse.
Did that make me behave? I don’t remember, probably not.
But it wasn’t until around two months later (still nettle season!) when I became aware how it feels to be really tortured with nettles. I was tied down, lying on my stomach, wearing white panties with elastic bands. He was of course wearing protective gloves (coward!).
In case you wonder why someone might want to do such a nasty thing to a poor little girl the answer is simple: He was a sadistic and meticulous scientist who liked absolute control and dispassionate experimentation. *squirm*
He kept putting single leaves under the elastic on my panties. When few of them found their home he patted them all making me scream and wriggle. (Have you ever actually heard the sound nettle makes when the leave is crushed? Try it if you wish, preferably in a tied down position :P – but no complains to me afterwards! ;) )
And then was the worst part, he untied me, and made me turn around so I could lie on my back. Shit! I have no idea how I managed. Being tied down and having nettles forced upon me is one thing, but having to inflict it on me myself is something completely different.
When I sort of turned around, he decided to restrain me in diaper position. Bending my legs didn’t help as the elastic band dug into my skin squeezing more juice from leaves. Ouch! When I was properly secured he started finally taking those leave out, with metal forceps by pulling them away. I kept yelping each time a new prick occurred. And then, when I already started hoping it will be over I realised he had another sick idea in mind.
There was so much space, between my legs to play with, and so much nettles still in a bag…
See Also:
Me? Fan of nettles? Yyyy… Maybe a little (if I’m tied down and can’t help it) ;)
Nettles? I was born and bred in a nettle patch. I have never seen a nettle patch go bad. I have one growing in my back yard and use it to make tea for the vitamins.