Taleena's 1st Adventure

Taleena was fast asleep. She had been in class at college all day and worked in the
supermarket until closing time at 11:00. It had been a busy Friday night and she was very
tired by the time she got home. When she saw her bed, she took off her jeans, her t-shirt,
her bra and her socks, leaving only her panty. She was asleep almost immediately. It had
been a long day for the pretty five-foot-seven 21-year old. A long day, indeed.
Although she wasn’t one to toss and turn in bed all night, she normally did change
position from time to time. Taleena liked to sleep on her side, turned half-way onto her
stomach, facing to the right. After a few hours, she would turn into a similar position onto
the other side, facing to the left. She rarely slept on her back, a position she didn’t find at
all comfortable. It was no surprise, then, that she tried to turn onto her right side as soon
as she sensed that she was sleeping on her back. The funny thing was that she couldn’t do
it.
She tried to turn but something was holding her. Sensing that something was not
right, Taleena’s eyes flashed open. She immediately realized that she was no longer in her
bed, or even her bedroom. She tried to move but even that was impossible. She looked
up at her arms and saw that there were straps holding her wrists and upper arms. Then,
she lifted her head and saw similar straps holding her legs widely apart, securing them at
the ankles and the thighs. She was naked and helpless.
As she looked about the room, she noticed various cabinets, tables, trolleys,
control panels, computer terminals and lights. She could see herself and the device on
which she was confined in the gleaming stainless steel doors of the cabinets along the wall
to her right. It was a large table, specifically designed to helplessly secure a woman in the
most compromising position, spreadeagled with her arms high above her head and her legs
widely parted. She had no idea how she had come to this place, remembering only that
she had dropped into her bed and gone to sleep almost immediately. She started to get
scared, very scared.
Some time after she had awakened, probably twenty minutes or so she thought, a
man entered the room. She recognized him immediately. He was a regular customer at
the supermarket.
“What the hell is this?” she started, “How did I get here?”
“All in due time,” he answered, as he picked up a large, stiff feather from one of
the little wheeled tables along the wall and approached her.
“Let me go, please,”she pleaded, trying to move against the restraints holding her
arms and legs.
“You know, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you,” he told her, “I
was deeply affected by the very unique beauty that I saw in you, not only your physical
beauty but the inner beauty that I saw in your eyes.”
As he spoke, he started to stroke the big feather across her stomach and along her
sides, working the entire front of her torso from below her breasts to the creases where it
met her thighs and her sides from below her armpits to her hips, carefully avoiding her
breasts, her armpits and her genitals. He was stroking her soft and flawless skin more to
intimidate her than to tickle her, demonstrating to her subconscious mind that she was
very, very vulnerable and he was in total control of her.
“No,” she pleaded, “please don’t! That tickles.”
“I knew then that I wanted you for myself. But I also realized that a beautiful
young college girl would not be likely to have a great deal of interest in a man of my age.
College girls always want to go with the boys they associate with in their schools. And
therefore I could only proceed with my desires by taking you, rather than asking you - I
hope you understand.”
Taleena squirmed and fidgeted on the x-shaped table holding her as the man drew
the stiff feather across the soft skin of her stomach and sides, slowly and purposefully, in
long, agonizing strokes, as he spoke. She tried everything she could think of to ease the
sensations - she stiffened her body, bit into her lip, squeezed her eyes and clenched her
fists. Nothing seemed to help. She felt her nipples start to swell and harden. That was
the sign he was looking for, waiting for. Now he moved his attention to her breasts.
“In China, one of history’s most terrible tortures was the death of a thousand
cuts,” he told her, “which would begin with one hundred cuts of a very sharp knife across
each of a woman’s breasts, each cut a little longer and a little deeper than the one before,
building up a level of pain in which each cut would continue to contribute to the pain that
she would feel, starting at the top of each breast and making fifty cuts in the top helf of a
breast, then another fifty cuts starting at the bottom, slowly working toward the nipple but
never touching it.”
He began to draw the edge of the large, stiff feather across the top half of her right
breast, mimicking the movements of the knife he was describing. The anguish and agony
building in Taleena’s mind and body built with each successive stroke as she squirmed and
mewled and pleaded. Slowly, ever so slowly, he drew the feather across the top of her
right breast fifty times, then the top of the left breast, then the lower half of the right breast
and finally the lower half of her left breast, coming close to her nipple but never touching
it.
“It took many hours to complete the thousand cuts, using a razor-sharp knife, and
the pain was indescribable, sometimes lasting the entire night before the woman would die
from shock and loss of blood.”
Taleena’s nipples became painfully engorged with blood, so big and hard she
thought they were going to burst, and she became sexually aroused, she felt herself
become very, very wet inside as she imagined each stroke of the knife with each stroke of
the feather. Even so, the strokes continued driving her further and further into both agony
and ecstasy.
He then moved his attention back to her stomach and further onto her thighs. As
he continued to speak, he stroked the feather across the top and over the outside of her
thighs as well as her lower legs.
“When they would finish with her breasts,” he continued, “they would move down
to her stomach like this, drawing the knife in long strokes, creating a criss-cross diamond
pattern. They would create a similar pattern on her thighs and legs with each cut less than
a quarter inch from the other.”
He continued to trace each stroke of the knife he described with the sharp, stiff
edge of the feather. Her sexual arousal continued to build and build. But he was careful
not to touch any part of her that would take her all the way to an orgasm. He moved to
her arms and ribs, stroking the soft inside of her upper arms and the curvature of her ribs,
careful to avoid her armpits.
“After the legs and thighs, their attention would then move to her arms,” he said,
“with the same diamond pattern a quarter of an inch apart on the soft inner portions of her
upper arms. The knife would then also be drawn along the curve of each of her ribs, both
on the rib itself and in the little space between them. Then the attention would move to
her feet.”
Taleena was so close, oh so close, to sexual orgasm. But the man was an expert.
He really knew the female anatomy, they workings of the female body and its nervous
system. She was so close, and yet she could not climax. She was in agony. If only she
could touch her genitals, or if only he would touch her genitals.
“Please,” she pleaded, “don’t touch my feet. Haven’t you done enough already?”
The man brought a wheeled stool from the side of the room and seated himself at
the foot end of the table. Taleena flexed her toes over and over, sensing his presence so
close to her feet. Like the rest of her, Taleena’s feet were very pretty - size 8 1/2 and in
perfect proportion - beautifully cleaned and manicured - no dead tissue or callouses of any
kind - perfectly kissable. It was all he could do to restrain himself from kissing and licking
her feet. And so he brought the feather up toward her left foot.
“In Hawaii and the other islands of the south seas,” he went on, “any of the young
women from other islands who came to be captured were turned over to the women of a
particular village. They would tie her down on the ground in the same position as you,
bring out a collection of feathers kept especially for this occasion, and begin to tickle her
feet.”
As he was talking, he began to stroke the feather across the instep of her left foot,
drawing it from one side to the other slowly and carefully, between the fold of skin on the
soft instep as she flexed her toes as far as she could to prevent the sensation of the feather
on her skin. She felt another feather on the top of her foot drawn across in the same way
and brought her toes back up. This tightened the skin of her instep where the first feather
was again drawn across, leading her to flex her toes again.
“Please sto-o-o-p,” she laughed, squirming and flopping her foot about as best she
could “I can’t stand to be tickled there.”
After some ten or fifteen minutes of tickling her left foot in this way, with Taleena
squirming, laughing and pleading, he put the feather that he had used on the top of her
foot down, and turned to her right foot. This time he simply took hold of her foot with his
hand, between his thumb and fingers, preventing her from flexing her toes. Then he began
to draw the feather across the instep of her right foot, over and over, as she howled with
laughter, laughing so hard she couldn’t even plead for him to stop. Every few minutes, he
would draw the feather across the groove below her toes and in between each of her toes,
driving her to new heights of laughter. Some forty minutes passed while he worked on
her right foot with his feather.
He moved his stool between her legs and waited for her laughter to subside and
her breathing to stabilize. He then began to stroke the soft inner surfaces of her thighs
with the feather, knowing she was on the verge of orgasm. Her nipples were stiff and
gorged with blood, her clitoris was erect and her vagina was sopping wet.
“Aah! Ooh!” she panted, clenching her fists, squeezing her eyes, “Why are you
doing this to me?”
“Because I love you,” he said, “and I want you to experience all that it is to be
female. Not like the schoolboys who simply want to get in, jump up and down a few
times, and then simply leave you behind as another conquest. The female body was
designed for pleasure, it was made to experience intense sexual pleasure, and I want to
take you to some of the heights of ecstasy that you never dreamed possible, pleasures that
few women today can ever even imagine, let alone experience.”
“Please let me go,” she pleaded, “I am so aroused right now I can’t stand it - it’s
going to kill me if I can’t touch myself and finish it.”
The stroking of the feather on the inside of Taleena’s thighs was maddening. She
was so close to an orgasm and yet couldn’t reach it. Oh, the agony, and the ecstasy, she
thought, oh please let me come.
“I can’t release you just yet, Taleena,” he said, “but I can kiss you, and lick you,
and bring you to the end. All you have to do is ask me.”
“Oh, God! Oh, please, please finish it!” she pleaded, “I can’t stand it. I’m so
close, please do it.”
He kissed her genitals, and brought her to the throes or orgasm by kissing and
licking her most sensitive parts, delicately licking her clitoris, gently forcing his tongue
into her vagina, savoring the juices of her arousal, the exceptional sweet taste and the
delicate aroma of her very essence. It wasn’t long before she arched her back and
stiffened her entire body, trembling with the throes of an intense sexual climax, within the
bonds that held her. When she came back down from the heights of ecstasy, she lay on
the table, panting, sweaty and exhausted.
“Good night, sweet one,” the man said, as he kissed her gently on the cheek, “we
will share another adventure soon,” and quietly left the room, in the same way he had
entered. She drifted off into sleep.
Suddenly, remembering her adventure, Taleena’s eyes flashed open. She was in
her bed. It was five o’clock Saturday morning.
“Wow,” she said to herself, “was that only a dream? Even my muscles are sore.
And where is my panty? I had a panty on when I went to sleep!”
And so she drifted back to sleep - naked - too tired to wonder any further where
her panty might be - sleeping better than she ever had before.

Bravo!

Fabulous story and effort! Can't wait for the next one. Thank you.

I'm surprised there is only one response to this story with well over 800 members reading it - I would really like to know what you think - thanks

First, let me say that I liked your story, with the detailed decription of the foot-tickling and the sexual teasing.

Don't be discouraged that people haven't taken the time to reply. Here is the first nonfiction story that I wrote:

http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=12717

It got about a thousand views in the first month, and then took off, getting so many views I couldn't believe it. It has been viewed over 28,000 times now*. It has gotten a total of two responses. Two. One from me, and one from Mistress Zara, the other person in the story. Nobody else wrote a reply, only the two people who are in the story.

I didn't let the lack of replies bother me, because I was glad that so many people got to share my experience by reading about it. I have written many stories since that one, both fiction and nonfiction. Some have gotten enthusiastic replies, and one even won the Golden Feather Award for nonfiction in 2002.

Don't let the lack of replies bother you. Keep sharing your thoughts and fantasies with the TMF.

*To see how many views an old story has gotten, it is easy to resort the Post Stories forum by number of views, by using the drop down choices at the bottom of the page:

http://www.ticklingforum.com/forumd...d=views&sortorder=desc&daysprune=1000&x=9&y=8

Excellent Story!

Very well written and great detail of the tickling technique and the sexual effect it had on Teleena. Reminded me of my own tickling exploits with my girlfriend Nicely done!

From a woman's point of view;

This was one heck of a story!!!!

Thankyou for the responses - Taleena will soon return

Fabulous story!

One of the best stories ever! Please continue in your efforts.
Thank you.

I'm working on Taleena's 2nd Adventure - between a full time job and my Canadian income tax return service, it might be a week or two - I am very pleased with the feedback received and the number of members who have read the story - thanks

Great story, tkl-pen! I personally like my tickle-damsels to be securely bound and gagged (I LOVE the sound of frantic mmmphing), but I know I am a bit unusual in that regard. I'll be looking forward to your next adventure with Taleena!

TT

Two thumbs up t-p. A very hot story indeed

That was a very good story. I loved how she was teased and had to ask to get off. You have some good story ideas, I look foreword to the next story.

Thanks for the feedback - that is a very astute observation on your part - I very much like that concept too - I am working on her next visit now

Descriptive & Arousing - Bravo!

Tkl-pen - I only read your story now and I must say, the descriptions are fantastic. As a female lee (and fellow Canadian), I absolutely love the prolonged teasing and patience of the ler. Specifically, the detailed descriptions of teasing the lee's sensitive upper body is arguably more arousing (and frustrating at the same time) than merely playing with the obvious areas.

As any tickling fan, the use of the feather is a great addition. However, perhaps in future adventures, Taleena's lers will use merely his hands for certain areas. Skin-to-skin contact is so erotic and torturous all at once for the purpose of tickling and orgasm denial.

Beautiful story!

If that story is ever turned into a screenplay, I'd love to play the part of the torturer. Wow, you've got great talent as a writer. I gotta go take a cold shower!

Very erotic!

i have read pearl buck's imperial woman and always wondered exactly how they went about slicing someone a thousand thousand times. thanks tkl-pen for puttting that imagination to rest. the teasing the way he lightly tickled it was so great. love it and as you might have noticed i am going thru your thread, looking and reading all your stories. i will now read part two, but probably wont post , unless i feel such a need to express my thoughts that it overcomes me lol you write terrifically.

isabeau

A mere feather...

TP, I could kick myself (OW! There! Take that!) that I somehow missed this tale when it first appeared on the Forum. It achieves a...well, ticklish balance that so few tales here have--that is, it's rich with cunning sadism, yes (Ah! The equation of the blade of the feather with the legendary death of a thousand cuts!), but it's also achingly erotic in an undeniably romantic way. What seems initially to be just another tied-and-tickled tale deftly eases into something quite memorably more. This one's a keeper!<p>
BTW, I'm delighted that your byline's been more prevalent in the Story Forum lately, both with your new efforts and the "bumping up" of old faves (like the delightful "THE LONG WAY HOME FROM COSTA RICA") by the energetic Izzy. 'Seem to me it's time one of the Mods offered you a Story Archive. How 'bout it, Mods?

Wow, have you got me figured out! The first Teleena story is my personal favorite and ranks in my mind with the great "Amusement Park Hysteria", a story I truly love and, in fact, one of the first I ever read. When I write a story like this, I try to get into the woman's mind - what does she feel and how does she react. As she gets the blade of the feather all over her soft skin, he continues to talk about the death of a thousand cuts, the ling tze, and she actually imagines it. This drives her higher and higher toward her sexual arousal. The tickling is only part of it, the spoken portion is just as important. I almost think that I am writing a story like this as much for the female reader as the male. Thankyou for your insight - it was exceptional.

teehee i am energetic for sure, and its nice i'm good at something. this story deserved to be bumped. and tkl-pen wow amusement park was my very first tickle story i ever read, on another forum. at that time i had no idea the great Shadow from here was the author. his and your stories rock. so creative and torturously descriptive.

isabeau

I ran into the girl who inspired this story the other day and thought that I should repost it.

I wanted to read this story again, even though I wrote it myself, as I ran into the girl who inspired it this weekend - I thought some of you might like to see it again, too.