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An Evening at the Gallery (mech/f, full body, adult, forced orgasms)

ktulu

TMF Poster
Joined
Nov 19, 2004
Messages
81
Points
6
This one (as usually...) started as a short background for a picture. Sometimes stories start to live their own lifes. Per request, it has some some brushes and polishers in it :D There's few pics at the bottom, 5 renders of the same art. It isn't perfectly consistent with the story, but who cares.


An Evening at the Gallery


*Beep beep beep beep*. Catherine woke up quickly. It took a while to form of an image of her surroundings. She wasn't used to see the office this empty and dark. "Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, I'm so late...", she thought as she took a look at her tablet. The reminder that had woken her up was telling Catherine to get ready for her date with Larry. Only she was supposed to be at home when the alarm went off. After a very busy day she had decided to take a short nap before driving home, it just wasn't supposed to last for two hours. She cursed the guard Hudson to lowest depths of hell for not waking her up, before she remembered that he was on his annual leave, probably catching fish somewhere around eastern Canada.

She ran to the restroom and to take a swift look at herself in the mirror. Fortunately today had been the monthly meeting with the foundation. As a junior curator and personal assistant for curator Robin, she was responsible of secretarial duties of the meeting, which meant she had her sharp dress on. Clad in a dark gray jacket dress and light blue shirt she looked more like a business professional than an expert in art history. She had chosen seamed stockings to add a pinch of sexiness, though the long skirt was covering most of them. Her outfit was finished off with a cobalt scarf and black three-inch heels.

There was no time to drive home and back downtown, so she decided to improvise. She removed the pins from her hair to let her flaming locks down on her back. The formal blue scarf had to go too. She tuned her makeup to be a bit less neutral by adding a bit of rose lipgloss and some eyeshadow. Finally, she opened the two top buttons of shirt. Leaning forward would reveal just a hint of her delicious cleveage and maybe a glimpse of her black lace bra to the person opposite her. She stepped back and grinned at her image. The striking combination of strict professionalism and suggestiveness would work just fine for her. Leaving her smart attire on seemed more and more like a great idea. She started imagining herself sitting at the bar of the restaurant, waiting for Larry. With her legs crossed, a black shiny heel was dangling from her foot. Larry seemed to have thing for feet and her stocking-clad foot would not go unnoticed. When they would to sit down she would be sure to adjust her skirt just long enough to ensure him a good long view down her shirt. He would be soft, warm putty in her hands... Ready to do anything she'd want. Catherine was looking forward to the night she'd spent with him.

The last few days at the gallery had been incredibly busy. In addition of the forthcoming meeting with the foundation, they were in the middle opening a new exhibition. Their newest addition, Mark Lando was a brilliant sculptor with an incredible sense of space and form. Some even said he was probably the greatest sculptor of 2020's in the whole States. A legend in the art circles told that he could get the measurements of any person, clothed or naked, with a single look. What he had been given in artistic brilliance was apparently taken from social sensitivity. Lando arrived and left the exhibition area at his whim, demanding help and time for setting up his art. Even though he was moderately handsome and very strongly build, his black hair was always tangly and unwashed, his face covered with uneven stubs of beard, and more often than not, he was dressed in his dirty sculpting overalls. Luckily his odour didn't match his looks; for some reason there was always a pleasant scent of honey floating around him.

Lando spent most of his time at the gallery by striding around the hall and taking short looks at his sculptures. It took three days of his and Catherine's time to lay out the pieces in "an extent of dimensional harmony that doesn't burn holes in your eyes". At times Catherine thought that the only reason he demanded her assistance was to provide him chance to ogle at her body. The man was completely shameless in laying his eyes on her. Getting an eyecontact, even when they talked, was almost impossible as she didn't happen to have her eyes on her breasts or hips. Catherine didn't believe the rumors of his "all-measuring eye", but couldn't help feeling like her body was being constantly explored by his piercing brown eyes. It definitely took more than one look from him.

The last straw from "Mr. Lando" came when he earlier today he had demanded that "his latest masterpiece of form" should be added to the exhibition. Catherine was already strained by the montly meeting, but she had no choice. Curator Robin was adamant in her opinion: Lando was too valuble an asset to be lost to another gallery. As she entered the gallery the artist was already sitting on the box in his dirty overalls. He had apparently brought the package in with the hand trolley, a job he usually left for others. Grinning, he told that the box contained a surprise for her, and urged her to open it. She reluctantly started working on it.

Her jacket suit was the worst kind of clothing for unboxing large crates. As she bent over the box her skirt tightened and she sensed how his gaze landed on her round rear which was straining against the fabric. Almost instantly she felt a pair of big hands forcefully groping her bottocks. And half a second later her hand landed with full strenght on Mark Lando's left cheek. He quickly recovered and burst into a mocking laughter. "Sorry babe, I'm not into that kind play", he stated against her reddening face. "Don't you want to see what the surprise is", he continued laughing. "You can go FUCK your surprise", she blurted back, which only seemed to feed his howling laughter. Catherine quickly walked out the hall, leaving him alone with the box. She couldn't care less about Mrs. Robin's orders at that moment. Suddenly she understood why in tabloids Mark Lando was always photographed with another model or actress in his arms. His extreme rudeness and sexual aggression combined with artistic prowess had to be an enthralling to some. He was basically an artistic gorilla.

Definitely not a man for Catherine's tastes though. He liked the intelligent, courteus and slightly submissive type of men that Larry was. He worshipped and respected her beauty instead of trying to grab it like piece of meat. The relationship with him provided much welcome contrast for her work. Tonight it was going to be their fourth date. The first one was nice, the second ended in a passionate kiss. On the third she could sense him subtly devouring her with his eyes, and knew his eagerness to move to the next stage. Catherine wanted him more than anything, but even more she wanted to keep him thirsty for more. She smiled as she remembered the look on his face as she slipped out of the car and blew him a kiss for goodnight. She could hear the desperate enthusiasm in his voice as she called him the following monday. They settled for a date on friday. A good relaxing time with a proper gentleman like Larry was something to look forward to. And after the date, IF Larry turned out to be the kind of man he seemed to be, the handcuffs would ready for him right under her pillow...

Thinking about Larry restrained on her bed made Catherine felt a soft tingle in her panties, but she couldn't surrender to it as she was disturbed by her tablet another time. She was reliefed to see that she still had over half an hour before she was supposed to meet Larry at the restaurant. Though she'd had to be quick to arrive before him to commit her little act of seduction at the bar. Satisfied with her looks, she rushed back to her desk, grabbed her purse and headed towards the exit. In a moment she was striding accross the main exhibition hall, her red hair flowing behind her. As her heels were clacking on the floor, she could faintly hear guard chief Hudson's words in her head. "And you should never never EVER, enter the exhibition halls after 6 PM. It WILL mess up the cleanbot programming. You know how much repairing that old piece junk costs?". She smiled on the old man's warnings. He was so serious about it. But she had already used the hall as a shortcut for a few dozen times and never even seen the bot. She surely was not going use the basement corridor only to face a dozen locked doors between her and the exit.

Catherine entered another hall and was now hurrying past Lando's sculptures. She had spent more than enough time with them to stop for another look, but this time she felt something was different in the dim hall. Another statue had been placed on the center point of the hall under a small spotlight. Something was feeling odd about this one. She took the last remaining steps between her and statue and read the plaque: "Ballerina: a realistic study in female body and emotion." The sculpture depicted a voluptous female figure dancer in sus-sous pose, ready to start a dance. It was a shiny deep black in colour and made of the same nanorubber that Lando usually used. The special characteristic of the material was that its shape could be altered with electrical current. Mark Lando was a natural genius in both forming it and making it move. Knowing this, Catherine had anticipated what happened next: the motion detector in the stand had registered her and a familiar low hum started. As the ballerina started a subtle spinning dance on the stand, it struck her. It was a complete and utterly perfect copy of her own body. It had every curve, every mound, every shape, her hair, even the scar on her shoulder her brother caused her when she was a kid. So THIS was the surprise he had in store for her... She felt flattered and disgusted at the same time.

Slowly the ballerina's dance was getting into another level. Catherine watched as her sculpted image moved with unnatural grace, making all the dancers she had seen before look like clumsy teenagers. The sculpture's moves were steady and even as it hypnotized her... Catherine didn't notice as something huge moved behind her. Three red beams of laser were scanning her body, up and down, as if taking measures of her body... She snapped from the spell as the sculpture suddenly stopped with its feet next to eachother, hands reaching down. The show wasn't nearly over. Suddenly the sculpture put it hands on its hips and started grinding its butt at Catherine's face. It didn't took long before the delicate ballet had turned into a raw dance of striptease. "That...fucking...bastard...I'm going to rip his fingers off..." she hissed, as the black gleaming figure was getting rid of its imaginary cloths, throwing them at her. Red-faced and angry, she was just about to leave the statue, as something grabbed her right wrist. "IIIIIIK! Fuck, you scared me", she said as she turned...

...Only to face a huge metallic figure. It was a triangular and curved shape rising to at least nine feet. "What the...", she didn't have time to finish as another hand grabbed her left wrist. "Hey! Stop it! Let me go!" She tried to rip her hands from the robotic crasp of the huge tower. The mute machine firmly brought it robotic arms up, lifted her off her feet, and its huge towerlike body started to rotate. She kicked and screamed in the air, but there was no reaction from the machine. Her heart sunk as she remembered: guard Hudson was on his vacation. There would be no-one else in the building, except she... and this machine.

After the machine had made half a turn, it finally lowered her down, which eased the pressure on her fists. She felt a rubbery surface under her feet and saw three vague pyramid-like shapes around her. The machine had turned her so that the large, nine-foot-tall tower was behind her. A strong light suddenly went on over her head and she realized what was going on: she was standing on the mobile cleaning platform Hudson had always warned her about. She just hadn't realized that it was so huge and intimitading. She started struggle against the grip of the metallic hands again to no avail. The feeling of being restrained started to make her nervous; in her bedroom, she was usually the one doing the restraining, and she wasn't used to losing the power to conrol her body. All her struggling prevented her to notice the four red beams of light scanning her body continuosly. The machine was actually drawing a three dimensional image of her body in its virtual memory. "Target four-seven-nine detected, commence programme S", it announced happily in a female synthetized voice. "What? Say that again! I'm not a goddamn target, I'm a ...person. LET... ME... GO!... ", she yelled and yanked the restraints with every word. But the machine had already made its programmed mind: she was statue, and she definitely was in need of some cleaning.

She was occupied with her wrist restraints as another pair of hands reached out from the small cone-towers at her sides, grabbing her ankles. "IIIIIIKKKK!", she screamed as the cold metal touched her and started to pull her legs apart. Catherine used all her strenght, but could do nothing to resist the steady force of the machine. As her legs were spreading wider and wider, her tight gray skirt started riding up her legs. She felt a rush of embarrasment as her hem kept creeping further up, finally revealing her black stocking tops for plain sight. The machine stopped with her in an upside-down Y shape. In addition of her nervousness and anger, another feeling was starting slowly form in her taut body. Struggling against the unforgiving bonds had returned the small tingle that she had felt in the restroom before. Her concious mind was trying to dismiss the feeling, with poor results.

All thoughts of lust left her as new pair of hands appear at her sides. They started poke at her ribs and tug at her jacket. "Aah... stop it...arrrhhh..." She was getting more annoyed by the machines aggressive groping of her body. Finally the hands found a good, firm grip from her jacket and ripped it wide open. "WHAT! ...STOP... what the... ". The machine played with her jacket for a bit more, but stopped as it realized the cloth couldn't be removed this way. The hands moved from her sides, up to her shirt covered boobs. Catherine couldn't stand the mechanic fingers on her breast. "FUCK YOU... Stop! ... LET ME GO! LET ME GO NOW!" After feeling her breasts for a while, the hands decided to repeat the treatment of jacket to the shirt. Steadily it ripped the shirt open, sending small blue buttons flying accross the floor. Catherine could feel the air touch her breasts as they were freed from the close-fitting shirt. Quickly the hands moved on her skirt. They instantly found their way under the hem and lifted the skirt up to reveal her lacy black fullback panties. "Arhhh... LET! ME! GO!". Her rage and embarrasment was growing into another level. Even though Catherine knew there was no-one there to see her like this, just the thought of it sent a darker shade of red on her face. The hands finally moved down to her feet. The pair holding her ankles assisted by lifting her up, and it didn't take long for the other hands to remove her black heels. "Haha... arrh...stop...ihihii". A couple of touches traced on her sensitive soles, which forced a few giggles out of her.

Catherine was relieved as the cloth-stripping hands finally retracted. Little did she know, that the cleaning was just about to begin. She jumped and shrieked as another touch surprised by touching her neck. It settled on the back of jacket's collar and she heard a faint buzz start. The buzz was slowly moving down her back as she realized what was happening: it was cutting her jacket in half! "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." she swore in panic as the buzzing cutter repeated the treatment with her jacket's sleeves, starting from her wrist and ending at the side of the collar. The little buzzer looked like one of those rectangular shaped seat belt cutters she had in her car, except in this one the small blade was vibrating quickly. It was clear that the device was designed so that it couldn't even scrape the surface of a cleaning target, but it was helpful in removing additional "trash" from the target's surface. After the other sleeve the jacket dropped off her, and the free pair of mechanical hands removed the pieces under her. The cutter continued with the same method to her shirt, and soon after that her skirt followed. Humiliated, Catherine closed her eyes as her skirt dropped on the floor of the cleaning platform. The embarrasment of being stripped to her underwearm combined with her inability to do anything to stop it, was almost making her cry.

She thought that buzzer had finished when she felt something tug her bra strap at her back. "Don't you dare, you stupid piece of...", but it was already too late. The bra dropped on the floor, leaving her round breasts dangle freely in the cool air. Her garter belt followed soon, and after that her stockings were slowly peeled from her juicy legs. Catherine started defiantly swing her hips back and forth the prevent the buzzer to get a decent grip of her panties, but after avoiding it for a while, the free pair of mechanical hands grabbed and immobilized her hips. She could only cry in shame, as the cutter stripped her of her panties. Her face was as red as a beetroot, as she stood stark naked in the dark, empty hall. The machine had removed all the "thrash" on her and was ready to move on to the next stage...

"IIIIIIIIIIKKKKK!", Catherine screamed as she felt something wet spray on her back and sides. She broke into a fit of struggling and screams, until she realized it was only water, which was actually pleasantly warm. Four turning nozzles around her were making sure she getting cleaned thoroughly. As the four jets of water massaged around her body, she was starting to feel a bit more relaxed again. "Mmm...ahh...aaaa". The jet in front of her went steadily up and down her both legs, occasinally passing on her womanhood, making her gasp every time it happened. The jets from her sides were taking care of her sides and breasts, pleasantly warming her upper body. "Ahahahah..iihihi..." They also made teasing swift passages on her nipples, making her giggle softly. The big one from her back was warming her the most, slowly massaging up and down her back. As suddenly as it had started, the watering stopped, leaving Catherine dripping all over. After a few short moments she heard a low humming sound behind her. A large fan behind her was springing to action and started to blow cubes of air, which enveloped her in a pleasant shell of warmth. For a minute she forgot her perilous situation and enjoyed the warm comfort that the machine offered.

Her calm enjoyment was not about to last for long. As the fan died down, something was happening in the smaller tower-like machines at her sides. Two new kind of mechanical arms emerged; they looked something like huge metallic snakes with big red jaws. One them whirred into action and suddenly she realized that they were some kind of washers with two spinning brushes on both sides of the jaw. The brushers moved swiftly above her and she squeeled as they closed around her hands, just above where the mechanical arms were holding her. Suddenly they started spinning furiously. The sensation was not like anything she had felt before; a legion of small, soft bristles spinning and massaging her palms and the backs of her hands. The tickling they caused was a little annoying, but the overall it was actually quite pleasurable. Like something was giving her hands a warm massage. The brushes were constantly secreting some kind of a liquid to keep her skin slippery and moist. A familiar scent of honey drifted into her nose and finally she realized: it was the custom made oil she had ordered for Lando's sculptures. It was only made from natural honey and used for could be used to polish even the most delicate sluptures. And now it seemed like the machine was going to cover her with it.

After a good five minutes of brushing her hands, the machines stopped. They closed around her arms and started scrubbing again. "Tihihi.... ahaha..." The tickling was intensifying up from mere annoyance, as the scrubbers kept coating her arms. "Aaah.....aahhahaHAHAHAHAHA....". Catherine burst into heavy laughter as the brushes neared her underarms, only to start rising up towards her wrists again. After doing the trip up and down a couple of times more the scrubbers relented, leaving her arms covered in a even coat of glistening oil. Horror widened Catherines eyes as she realized where the scrubbers were going to land next. "No no no no ...NOOOO... aaahhh!". She trashed and yelled as the scrubbers lowered on her armpits and closed firmly. "IIIIIIIIIIKKKKHahahahahahahahaa...nOOOOo....pleeeh ahahahahahahahahha...". A piercing mixture of laughter and screams filled the hall. Her sensitive armpits were simultaneously attacked by a thousand ticklers. "Ahahahahahhahaha....aaaaaa....aaahaha...aha". The spinning brushes occasinally moved on the upper back and neck, but it only provided her momentary relief as they soon returned back to her deliciously ticklish armpits.

When the machine stopped, the mechanical torture had mad Catherine a panting mess. Even though she was experienced in the world of kinky, she had never feel anything this intense before. The torture was completely merciless and there was nothing she could do about it. She didn't admit it to herself yet, but the bondage, humiliation and tickletorture was slowly igniting her desires. The confident seductress she was thirty minutes ago was changing into a helpless tickletoy. And the machine was anything but finished in that task. Quickly it left Catherines armpits and upper back and took a firm grip on her sides. "Nononononono...AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAA...pleeaasseee...iiiiiikk". She begged and laughed as the machine started to spin on her ticklish ribs and moved slowly up towards her round boobs. "Iiiiikkkk....noooo...ahaha...mmmmmm...aaaaaaahhhhh". Bursts of hysterical giggles, pleas and moans poured from her lips as the jaws trapped her sensitive breasts in their tormenting embrace. She couldn't resist the effect the massaging bristles were having on her. Her nipples were getting harder and more sensitive each moment, which made them even more susceptible to the teasing torture. Tha ache and wetness in her womanhood was growing as the tickling went on and on.

In that regard, the next phase of the "cleaning" was even more devilish. The brushes moved down on her tummy, hips, lower back and butt. They moved around her lower torso, tickling and covering her in the oil, but never went down enought to touch her wanting pussy. "Ahahahaha....mmmmm...aahhaha....ooohhh...aahaHAHAH AHAHAHA....ahhahhaa...." Laughter and moans altered, as the brushes were traveling around her hips, bellybutton and her lower tummy. The brushes passed just on the top of her pubic hair, but never lowered enough the pressure her glistening sex.

As she was suffering an exceptionally unbearable attack on her buttocks, another pair of devices emerged, this time from the large tower behind her. Instead of spinning brushes these two jaws had vibrating polishers at each side, which were meant to finish the oil to a nice even shine. Simultaneously with the tickling on her butt, eight vibrating polishers encased her arms and slowly started to work their way don. She hardly noticed them until they landed on her armpits. "hhiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaa.... IIIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKKKK........". The microvibrations on her armpits were making her even more frantic than the brushes on the same spots. Catherine forgot anything else. There was only the relentless torture on her smooth armpits and nothing else. "Aaaaahahahahahahahahaaaaa..a...hahhaa...iiiiiikkk..." Hysterical yells and screams was all coming from her mouth.

As if the large polishers were not enough, a pair of tiny ones slithered out of the small tower at her front. She was so distracted by the relentless torture under her arms, that she didn't notice them until she was already trapped. They were already coiled around her breasts as she tried wiggle out. She could only watch on horror as they started vibrating in a high pitched hum and lowered on her rock hard nipples. "Nooahaha...noo..noo....aaaaaaAAAAAAAAIAIIIIIAIIIIIKKKKKK". She screamed as a completely new sensation was added to her torture. The vibrating tickle on her sensitive, rock hard buds was making her suffer and scream like never before. After the initial shock it was slowly adding a sense of forced pleasure into the mix. "Iiiiiihahahaa....aahhhh...mmmm.....iiiiikkk....aaa ....pleeeasss....mmmmmmmm". The ache in her loins was growing every second as she slowly started to rock her hips. Her dripping wet womanhood yearning for any kind of touch at all.

But there was none of that for her, only more tickling and teasing. The large polishers started vibrating on her sides, ribs and upper back as the spinning brushes were moving to her upper legs. The minipolishers stayed on her breasts, making sure that no part of her swollen aerolas and nipples was left without attention. "AHahahahahahahaa...aahhaha", she laughed heavily as the polishers vibrated firmly on her sides. "AIaahahahaiiiiiiiiiiiiikkk.... ", her laughter turned into screams as she felt the oilscrubbers attack the backs of her thighs. "Ahahahaaa...hhmhmmm....hmmm....aaaahhhh", and again her shrieks turned into moans as the scrubbers moved up her inner thighs, just to give a few quick sweeps on her swollen lips. She tried with all her strength to lower her pussy on the spinning brushes, but they sharply adapted to her movement and went back down her knees to elicit more screams out of her.

For another five minutes Catherine was floating in her ticklish state of arousal, which was heaven and hell for her in the same time. After what seemed like a small eternity for her, the machine stopped again. She felt the oily scrubbers lower to their final destination: her feet. She struggled in vain as the mechanical arms lifted her up, just enough to allow the jaws to trap her feet between the brushes. "No...ohnnoo....pleeassee... let me go...". Catherine was shuddering as anticipated the torture on her feet, which were even more sensitive to tickling than her redicilously ticklish armpits. Yet, the tickling wouldn't start because the large polishers were still moving down, landing on her hips and lower back. Minipolishers were satisfied to stay on her breasts, ready for some more nipple-teasing action. She was bracing herself for another set of torture, when she felt something part her round buttocks. "No....no..no.noonono.ohmygod...nonononono...pleassseee!" She begged the machine as she felt another jaw of vibrating polishers to settle firmly on her crack and anus. The other side of this jaw was starting to press on the whole length of her throbbing womanhood, effectively trapping her crotch between four vibrating polisher discs. Catherine couldn't move her hips even an inch in the embrace of the three polishing jaws. Trembling and eyes filled with hot tears, she submitted to tortures that were to come.

"AAAAAAAAAAIAIAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKkkkk!" The shriek that came out of Catherines mouth was the most violent and desperate yet. Relentless spinning bristles at her feet were sending ticklish erotic shocks throgh her body. Her oiled feet tried to wiggle out the hugging, steady tickles, but were powerless against the mechanic jaws. The nippleticklers were sending same kind of impulses through her oversensitive breasts. But most brightly burning in her mind was the ticklish sensations between her legs "AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAMMMMMAAAMMMmmmmmaaaaa" Hysterical laughter alternated with heavy moans as ten thousands of vibrating fibres were forcefully caressing her down there. The one polisher vibrating on her butthole was driving her completely wild, but it was slightly muted with the sensations from her pussy. The vibrations were simultaneously tickling her out of her mind and teasing her needy womanhood towards an atomic explosion. After only thirty seconds of the ticklish full-body onslaught she was already getting near the edge. She knew she would be two times more sensitive after an orgasm, but she couldn't hold it back. It was simply too much.... the pressure in her was too much, and she needed to release it... the contraptions were starting.... its too much... too much...aaah... aahh....AAAAAAAAAHHHH! Every muscle in her body tensed as she exploded into the orgasm of her life. Her vision was filled with colours and she heard the stream of her blood in hear ears, just pumping, pumping, pumping.

The semiconcious bliss lasted for a couple of seconds until the tickling ripped her back to her torturous reality... "Ahh....ahhh...no.no..nonono.....aaaaaaaiiiiiiiiik!" Her panting changed into a unintelligible high shriek as her pussy started to turn post-orgasmicly supersensitive. "Ahahahahahahahaaa....aahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahhaah...". Her explosion was effecting her nipples the same way. The continuous tickling was burning on them. New sensations on her sexual areas were making her almost forget the tickling going on at her feet. For a moment there was no eroticism left in the touch ravaging her body, only torture. But Catherine couldn't control her desires, and found her body pumping to another orgasm as the torture went on. "Oohhhnnnaaahahahaa...mmmm...ahahahhaa..." She was laughing and moaning as if her body had a will of its own, completely at the mercy of the stimulation it was getting. She knew that she would be even more sensitive after another orgasm, but couldn't fight back... The stimulation was too much... and she could feel it building again... it was too much to hold... the tingling...aaah...aaaah...AAAAAAHHH!

...

Ten minutes and two orgasms later, the full-body attack finally subsided. Catherine was hanging limp from the hands of the machine, standing on the edge of conciousness. She could hardly feel as the nipple polishers retracted to their holes, leaving the two larger polishers to finish. The final touches going up and down on her legs were feeling almost like pleasurable massage after the fifteen minutes of torture she had just gone through. She collapsed in a heap as the machine finally released her back on the same point she was taken from. The cleaning platform quietly hovered away from the hall, scanning for another statue in need of a polish. Catherine's tablet was still waiting on the stand of "The Ballerina", with two unanswered videocalls demanding her attention. She decided that Larry could wait another night. She would make it up to him, eventually.

A rush of adrenaline filled her as she realized again that she was completely naked in the middle of and exhibition hall. She quickly ran back to her office. Catherine had remembered right: her sweat suit, sneakers and a set of sports underwear were waiting in her locker. She exited the office with swift steps and made sure to continue the stairs down to the basement. Catherine cursed Mark Lando as she walked. He could have at least asked for a permission to use her as a model for his ridiculous statue. Her date was ruined, and she hadn't figured out a smart enough explanation for Larry yet. The truth would be way too much embarrassing... Still, the sweet aftertaste of ticklish orgasms was tingling on her skin. Her moments as the cleanbot's captive had opened her mind and body to a whole different level of pleasure. Which she was sure to explore again.

As she passed through the corridors, a devilish thought formed in her mind. That smug bastard had surely included some self-portraits in his exhibition. "Oh, Mr. Lando, I want to do it next to your statue, it would be so hot.", she was already rehearsing the dialogue in her mind. "Let's wait until the gallery is empty, how about 7 PM? There will be no-one there, just the two of us..." She smiled. Mark Lando was in for a little lesson in humility and respect for women. As a bonus, she might even enjoy the show.

Dressed in her pink jogging suit, she finally walked up the stairs from the basement and opened the main door. It seemed like it was going to be a clear night. The numerous bars and clubs of the city were only waking up, but only things she wanted right now were a good hot shower and some sleep. "Finally outside", she thought as she stepped out of the gallery. Images and feelings of her tickle torture filled her mind again. They caused a mixture of anxiety and excitement in her, but still she couldn't help smiling. All in all, the evening hadn't been all that bad for Catherine.
 

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Fantastic story!!! Great pictures as well!! I love merciless ticking stories like this story!! I would love to be that helpless and getting tickled like that!!
 
A masterpiece - I wish I could write like that!
 
Fantastic story. Had me craving more and more. Those pics are awesome too.

Thanks
 
Fantastic story. Had me craving more and more. Those pics are awesome too.

Thanks
 
Wow!!! That was a seriously hot story, shame my Henry Hoover doesn't have such good attachments... *eyes the machine wishfully*
 
wow that was so good!

Great story and drawings. :couch: Thanks for sharing them here. :D

Fantastic story. Had me craving more and more. Those pics are awesome too.

Fantastic story!!! Great pictures as well!! I love merciless ticking stories like this story!! I would love to be that helpless and getting tickled like that!!

Thank you very much!

A masterpiece - I wish I could write like that!

Oh please :p Your stories are great, especially Keigo Yamaguchi.

Wow!!! That was a seriously hot story, shame my Henry Hoover doesn't have such good attachments... *eyes the machine wishfully*

Just wait a few years and some japanese firm will come up with a machine like that... I bet you would regret strapping yourself to it after a mere minute of tickling. But then, after a minute it would already too late to back out *grin*
 
Great story. Now if it only could come true.. A woman's private toy.
 
I just read the story again - perhaps you should have had her change into her sweats and runners and then try to leave through the gallery again only to be caught for another cleaning!
 
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