Pluck, pluck, pluck...

The pyrots hold you down and start pluckiing out all your feathers. You yell out in agony, but that only makes them pluck harder and harder. Soon you realize that they have plucked out all your feathers of the bottom half of your body, and they start to brush them up and down your exposed claws. You squack in laughter and struggle to get free, but the pyrots have a strong grip on you and start scratching at your tummy.

Written by an anonymous author

The torture continues
Tell them everything.

Add your own new page to the story!

Back to the parent page

(This page has not yet been checked by the maintainers of this site.)