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A Day in the Life on an Arabian Harem Slave: Friday

tklover66

TMF Novice
Joined
Dec 31, 2003
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69
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Friday

Gail was trapped in a sensory-deprived world. She was currently on the rubber rack, a cruel bondage device that trapped a person inside without allowing the slightest possible movement. She was lying face up on the rack, and a single sheet of rubber had been placed over her body. A vacuum pump had sucked up the air from the rubber sheet, molding the sheet to her body, and effectively sealing her to the rubber rack. No matter how much she tried to move, she couldn’t budge an inch.

It was difficult to believe that any bondage could possible inhibit Gail so strictly. She was a wonderfully- toned athlete of Afro-American origins with a superb physique. There was not a single ounce of excess fat on her dark skin, and her arms and legs were powerfully developed yet lithe enough to draw admiring glances. She had strikingly attractive facial features, and even though she was black, she had found very little trouble getting a white male date any time she wanted.

Actually, it wasn’t true that the rubber sheet covered her entire body. Two holes had been cut at the front of her chest, leaving her huge breasts free from the rubber bondage. They were perfectly weighted, and her physical conditioning had ensured that they remained firm, able to resist the draw of gravity. Another hole had been cut between her legs, exposing her crotch region. A small hole was also at her nose, allowing her to breathe normally.

It had been quite a shock for Gail when she had been kidnapped, for she had never imagined that someone like her would ever be targeted. She had been confident, too, in her physical strength to overcome any obstacles or torture that her kidnappers would inflict upon her. Which would certainly have been true, had her kidnappers wanted to use pain as a torture instrument.

In fact, they had been frustrated by early attempts to inflict the usual tickling on Gail, for she wasn’t ticklish on her feet, ribs or armpits at all. They had been baffled by her lack of ticklishness, and she had looked disdainfully at them, for it seemed they could not find a way to break her. That was until Selima had taken over.

Dismissing the other torturers, Selima had matter-of-factly told Gail that no-one was totally un-ticklish. She promised Gail that she would take her time exploring her wonderful body to find out her weak spots. And it didn’t take Selima long to find out where Gail was, indeed, ticklish. Her breasts and crotch were superbly ticklish, even more so than most of the other harem slaves. Her ears and nostrils, too, proved too ticklish for her own bearing. And after that, Gail had spent many hours laughing and screaming and begging.

Now, Gail lay in the rubber rack, her mouth, eyes and ears were otherwise solidly encased in the rubber, depriving her of all her senses. She knew what was coming next, but not when or how. And struggling was absolutely useless, as she knew from experience.

A firm squeeze on her breasts let her know that her Master had entered the room. She moaned in fear, but no sound escaped the rubber seal. A brief tickle on her left nipple made her scream and struggle with all her strength, but no sound escaped, and she remained fixed to the rubber rack.

Then she felt her Master enter her defenceless pussy, and she knew the torture would begin. The Sheik marveled at her silky warmth, even as his fingers began to lightly trace devilish designs across her breasts. He loved this particular form of torment, for it kept Gail, his Amazonian girl Friday, completely helpless. And her instinctive reaction to tickling was to work her muscles to escape, which made her clench her pussy repeatedly around his throbbing manhood. Exquisite pleasure indeed!

He increased the speed of his tickling, running his fingers all over her breasts. Then her lightly pinched her right nipple, bending her right breast towards her face, exposing the underside of her breast. His other hand began to cruelly tickle the underside of her right breast, sending Gail into hysterics, and giving him great pleasure.

He leisurely considered the tools at his disposal, even as his fingers continued the breast tickling. Feathers, a pinwheel, and an electric toothbrush awaited his use. Picking up the feather with his left hand and the electric toothbrush in the right, he zoomed right in to work. The feather danced a trail of agony all across Gail’s right breast, while the toothbrush seemed to brand the ticklish sensations into her left breast wherever it went. He allowed feather to lightly tickle her exposed nostrils, making her shriek helplessly and squeeze his manhood with her pussy.

Idly discarding the feather, he picked up the pinwheel even as the toothbrush bristles rotated mercilessly against her left breast. The Sheik ran the pinwheel lightly over Gail’s right breast, travelling in circles round and round her firm breast. Then as he felt his climax approaching, he kept circling her right breast with the pinwheel, but brought the electric toothbrush into contact with her left nipple. Her reactions quickly brought him to an explosive orgasm.

Gail was suffering tremendously in her torture; she couldn’t budge an inch at all, and she could even scream in agony at the horrible tickling going on! She wanted to weep, but her eyes were tightly shut and the rubber prison prevented tears from leaking out. She barely felt the Sheik pull out from between her legs, but she knew when he sat on her torso, plopping his manhood between her breasts, mashing them together with one hand.

She could guess where his other hand would be going, and true enough, a split second later, he began to finger her perineum. Gail suffered in silent agony at the horrible ticklish sensations exploding out of her perineum but there was no let up in her agony as the Sheik merely kept running his finger along her perineum, between her pussy and anus.

If not for the perfect bondage, Gail would probably have broken free of any other normal bondage device and jumped straight to the ceiling. But in her current state, all she could do was lie on the rubber rack and suffer the exquisite torments the Sheik continued to inflict upon her helpless flesh.

Then she felt a slight pressure on her ears, and suddenly she could hear again. She barely had time to register this freedom before she felt a ticklish intrusion into her ears. The Sheik had inserted an automatic tickler that kept a tiny bottle brush rotating into each ear, and the stiff bristles of the brush worked their devious magic on Gail’s sensitive ears. With the rubber sheet firmly encasing her face to the rack, Gail couldn’t even move her head to try to escape the ear tickling!

The Sheik resumed his tickling of her perineum, running the quill end of the feather against her helpless flesh, driving her half-crazy with ticklish agony. Soon, her agony reached even greater heights as the Sheik dropped the feather in favour of the pinwheel. Gail cursed her superb physical conditioning that let her remain conscious despite such terrible torments. She longed for the oblivion of unconsciousness, but her own strength denied it to her.

**********************************

“Please Master, please make it stop,” Gail wept brokenly. The Sheik had finally stopped his tickling of Gail, and had removed her from the rubber rack. She had taken the chance to immediately beg and plead for mercy, promising him unimaginable sexual delights. He merely laughed and dragged her to the bed. She was now tied securely to the bed, her arms behind her back, her legs tied above her head in a wide spread position.

The reason for Gail’s torment was obvious; smears of a white powder were all over her stupendous breasts, and judging from Gail’s agonized expression and pathetic begging, it could only be itching powder. She struggled helplessly, shaking her body from side to side, trying to dislodge the powder to no avail. It merely set her breasts wobbling enticingly.

The Sheik snickered at her torments, enjoying it tremendously. She arched her body helplessly, trying to find some surcease from the horrible itching sensations on her breasts. “Ooh, that must feel horrible!” the Sheik teased. “So very itchy yes? But no way to scratch the itch, letting it grow more and more itchy!” Gail wept at his taunts. “Would my girl Friday want a distraction from the itching?” he asked innocently.

Without thinking, Gail nodded in the affirmative. Anything to get her mind off the horrible itching! With a cruel smile on his lips, the Sheik brought his finger to tickle her perineum again, drawing a loud screech of torment from Gail. “NOOOOO!!” she cried out. “No more tickling! I beg you!” she pleaded to her sadistic master. He merely intensified his finger tickling.

“But my dear,” the Sheik informed Gail sadistically, “this is the distraction you wanted!” he held up the electric toothbrush in his free hand.

******************************************************

Selima had joined the two torturers in giving Megan a full body wash down. After all, tomorrow was going to be her initiation day, as she took over the role of Saturday. Therefore, she had to be clean and beautiful during her presentation to her new Master, the Sheik.

Megan was bound in a tub full of water, her head and feet the only parts of her body out of the water. The water was warm and soapy, giving the three torturers a great, slippery surface to work on Megan’s ticklish flesh. Selima had particularly enjoyed cleaning Megan’s feet with a myriad of brushes, each stroke sending the poor girl screaming and laughing hysterically even as she sloshed around the tub trying to escape.

Another torturer was leisurely soapy Megan’s armpits, rubbing liquid soap into her underarms, letting the lather build, then taking a nice stiff brush and cleaning her armpits. The other was tickling her belly, using the pretext of cleaning her belly button. One hand supported Megan’s back, while the other had a finger sunk deep into her belly button. Every now and then, she would scratch her belly with all fingers.

Poor Megan could only laugh in tortured anguish at the tickling she was undergoing. She had no breath to beg, all she could do was laugh and scream, then draw in a deep breath for the next round of laughter. It was pure torture! Finally, the three of them ceased their tickling, leaving Megan slumped in the tub, weeping helplessly.

“Please, no more, I’ll be good! I’ll do anything you want! I swear it!” Megan begged her torturers. “I’ll kiss your feet, please, I’ll lick your pussies if you want!” she pleaded, willing to humiliate herself in an effort to escape more tickle torture.

Selima held up the water spray and smiled at Megan. Megan moaned in fear. Selima activated the spray, and a thin, powerful jet stream poured forth from the spray. Selima aimed the spray between Megan’s thighs. She gasped in shock at the pleasurable sensations coming from between her legs. She struggled to avoid the spray, but the other two torturers held her body firm, allowing Selima to aim the spray where she wanted.

Soon, Megan was moaning in helpless, forced pleasure as the spray constantly stimulated her clitoris. She wondered what new humiliating games Selima would play! She soon found out. “Now Saturday, you’re a slave, and you must learn that your pleasure is a gift your Master grants to you. You may NOT climax without permission,” Selima told Megan, even as she ran the spray over her defenceless pussy, making the poor girl throw her head back in anguish as she tried to hold her orgasm back, wailing and pleading for mercy.

“NO PLEASE! I CAN”T TAKE IT!” Megan screamed, as she felt her defences beginning to crumble, and the orgasm start to rumble. “I CAN’T HOLD IT!” she cried out. “PLEASE LET ME CUM! OH MISTRESS SELIMA! I BEG YOU LET ME CUM!!! PLEASE! PLEASE! ARRGGGHHH! ARRGGHH!” she screamed helplessly as the spray brought her to a humiliating orgasm. She wept in agony.

The other two torturers caressed her drenched face, stroking her matted red hair. She looked pleadingly at Selima, not daring to imagine what tortures were in store for her unsanctioned orgasm. “Please, Mistress Selima, I couldn’t hold back,” she groveled, hoping her servile attitude would help her. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop the orgasm,” she wept, even though she had no choice.

“Don’t worry, my sweet Saturday, I won’t punish you this time,” Selima purred and Megan smiled gratefully at her.

“Oh Mistress, thank you, thank you,” she babbled.

“But you’ve dirtied yourself, so we need to clean you up all over again,” Selima smiled at Megan. Her face fell despairingly, and she began to cry. “Poor baby is crying! I know just how to cheer you up,” Selima teased Megan, as she began to brush her soles.

******************************************

Anyone for Saturday? :)
 
WEll, we have to say, Selima knows what to do!
Love,
Anna and Heather
 
that was excellent, tklover66. you're whole series is awesome. can't wait for Saturday! :D
 
oh my! i cant wait to see what is going to happen on Saturday! the poor ladies from Monday thru Friday suffered immensely. i can only imagine what happens on the weekend! good work!
 
Enjoyed the parts about tickling the privates, breasts, and ears Fiendishly well done.
 
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