tkl-pen
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Jennifer's Big Brother 6 Adventure
Anyone watching Big Brother this summer might enjoy this story - thanks
Jennifer's Big Brother 6 Adventure
Jennifer was fast asleep in one of the big bedrooms surrounded by six of the other house guests. It had been a busy day with everyone concerned about the upcoming eviction of one of the guests and the food competition for next week’s groceries. She dreaded the idea of another week on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It was good, though, and there would be proper meals for the next week. She was tired and fell asleep almost immediately.
Jennifer was a pretty, dark-haired, petite young woman from Texas, a university graduate and a dancer in perfect physical condition. She had beautiful, big brown eyes to go with a gorgeous, fetching smile and a long, brunette hair. Another house guest, 23-year old Sarah, looked quite similar to her but was about four inches taller.
Although Jennifer always liked to sleep with nothing but her panties, and her friend and sorority sister April slept in the next bed, she wore pyjamas when sleeping in the house, as there were cameras all over the house and a number of male guests around.
Although she wasn’t one to toss and turn in bed all night, she normally did change
position from time to time. Jennifer 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 on the other side, facing to the left. She rarely slept on her back, a position she didn’t find very 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, though, was that she couldn’t do it. Something was holding her.
Sensing that something was not right, Jennifer’s eyes flashed open immediately. She immediately realized that she was no longer in her bed, or even in the big bedroom with the others, or even the house for that matter. She tried to move but it was impossible. She was held down on a large table that was tilted at a forty-five degree angle to the floor. Her wrists were secured in special restraints high above her head and out to the side. Her ankles were similarly secured at the foot end of the table and held wide apart. She was completely naked.
‘Oh, my God,’ she said softly, ‘where the hell am I?’
As she took in her surrounding, she saw various cabinets with stainless steel doors in the walls, computer terminals, lights and moveable trolleys. She could see herself and the table on which she was confined in the gleaming stainless steel doors of the cabinets to her right. It was a large table that was specifically designed to secure a woman in the most compromising position, spreadeagle with her arms high above her head and her legs widely parted. It could be turned and tilted to various angles.
Jennifer had no idea how she had come to this place, remembering only that she had laid down in her bed, said good night to April and some of the others, and gone to sleep almost immediately. She started to get scared. She tried to pull her arms and legs free but soon found that it was useless. She trembled as she waited, helplessly strapped down and completely naked.
Although she had no real concept of the time, she thought it was about twenty or thirty minutes later that a man came into the chamber. He was quite a bid man in his late forties or early fifties, heavy set and muscular, but not fat. There was a certain elegance about him and she immediately sensed that he was a powerful and authoritative figure. She put on a brave face and challenged him.
“What the hell is this?” she started, “How did I get here? And who the hell are you? What do you want with me?”
The man brought a chair over from one of the computer terminals and placed it at the foot end of the table, close to her feet. He then sat down in the chair looking up at the entire length of her body and directly into her deep brown eyes. She had never felt so vulnerably feminine as she did with this strong, powerful man looking into her eyes over the entire length of her helplessly, spreadeagled female body. She moved her hands and feet slightly, as if to release them. He crossed one leg over the other and made himself comfortable, holding one knee in his hands.
“Your name is Jennifer, you are a twenty-seven year old university graduate from Texas, you dance form one of the sports teams in that state, and you are a contestant on a popular television show attempting to outlast other competitors and win a substantial cash prize. All of America knows these things. But I know a great deal more about you, things that I have sensed in you by watching you over the past few weeks. You, Jennifer, are a romantic. You love to maintain a scrapbook of all of the things that you have done. You love to eat out, attend theatres and concerts, and work out regularly. You are very proud of your physical appearance and your personality. And yet, at the age of twenty-seven, you are still single.”
Jennifer was mesmerized by the man, not only by the things he said, but also by the way he said them, by his manner and his voice. He touched her feet, taking one of her size six feet in each hand, stroking the top of each foot gently and lovingly with his fingers as he held it.
“Your little feet are cold,” he observed, “and you are trembling. Don’t be afraid, I will not harm you, and you will be back in your bed in a little while.”
“Please let me go,” she said, looking into his eyes, realizing that was not going to happen, “just take me back to the house.”
“My name, Jennifer,” he said, “is Master Sandrak Van Koto, and you may address me as Koto-san. I am an industrial scientist and inventor with a particular mission that I very deeply believe in. I am able to locate any person in the world through advanced genetic coding systems, far beyond regular dna profiling, simply from a picture or a television image. I can then transport that person to this location, or any other place that I choose, even any other time that I choose, keep the person for any time that I like, and return her to the exact location and time from which I removed her. These scientific concepts are not yet regularly available in the world because of the manner in which they could be abused by certain people.”
“The mission that I feel so strongly about, though, Jennifer, is to correct the terrible wrongs that the feminists have perpetrated on the women of the world for so many years now, in conditioning women to believe that they are not equal to men but that they are equivalent to men, so that they cannot now appreciate and enjoy the magnificent bodies they have, the incredible sensitive nervous systems with which they have been blessed, and the overwhelming ecstasy that they should be able to experience. I can only provide this experience to a very few women with whom I am particularly impressed, either in real life or on television. You are one of them.”
“So what are you going to do to,” she asked, “please, I just want to go back.”
“Do not be afraid, Jennifer,” he said, in an almost fatherly manner, “I am going to introduce you to your body, and you will learn to experience sensations that you never imagined possible, even when pleasuring yourself in the privacy of your own apartment. I will show you the intensity for which your body was designed.”
He rose from the chair and picked up a large, stiff feather from one of the trolleys in the room, the one closest to the computer terminal from which he had taken the chair, and which he had returned to its former location.
“Please don’t tickle me with that feather,” she pleaded, “I can’t stand to be tickled on any part of my body.”
“That is because you have never experienced the sensation of tickling as a sexual one,” he explained, “most people only tickle and tickle to make you laugh insanely and uncontrollably. There is nothing sensual or pleasurable about that. This feather, though, has had the very soft outer edges trimmed off and a special compound put on to stiffen the inner feather. It is especially designed to awaken the outer ends of all the nerves in your body.”
He moved to the right side of the table close to her face, showing her the feather in his hand. He moved it along the jaw lines underneath her chin and down along her throat, then, as he held back her long brunette hair, back along her jaw lines to her ears, across her cheeks to her nose and mouth. She moved her head as best she could to avoid the touch of the feather and struggled helplessly against her restraints.
“Please stop,” she pleaded, “that feels so terrible. Aaaaaah! Oh, God, please, please stop.”
But his patience was incredible. He continued the treatment of her face, her throat, her ears and the soft flesh under her chin, for half an hour.
“If you would like me to stop this sensitizing of your face and your neck, you will have to kiss me,” he told her, “only a simple kiss, nothing passionate. If not, I shall continue.”
“Aaah! Okay, okay!” she said, “I’ll kiss you.”
“Are you sure,” he said, as he slowly drew the feather over her lower lip in one direction, then over her upper lip in the other, and then across the bottom of her nose.
“Yes! God, yes!” she said, “I’ll kiss you.”
And so, withdrawing the large, stiff feather, Koto-san reached over her and kissed her lightly on the lips as she lifted her head to kiss him.
“Do you see that I was correct,” he asked her, “your nipples are fully erect and you are already wet inside, you are flexing your toes with the sensations and all I have done is touch your face and your neck. Your body is coming to life.”
The man then moved to the computer console and pressed on of the buttons, holding it down as the table moved closer to the flat position, stopping at thirty degrees from the horizontal. Jennifer hadn’t really noticed any of the slight strain in her shoulders and arms from the previous position but she did feel some relief as the table became flatter.
The man returned to the right side of the table and located himself at about the middle of her body. He started to stroke the big feather across her stomach and along her sides, following the curvature of the spaces between her ribs. He moved the feather over her entire torso from below her breasts to the creases where it met her thighs on both sides of her brunette, curly pubic hair, and her sides from below her armpits to her hips. He was careful to avoid her breasts, her armpits and her genitals.
Jennifer squirmed and fidgeted on the big 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. She tried everything she could think of to ease the sensations - she stiffened her body, bit her lip, squeezed her eyes and clenched her fists. Nothing seemed to help. She felt her nipples harden and well even more, and the vaginal juices inside her get heavier and heavier.
“Oh, shit!” she exclaimed, “Oh, my God! Please stop!”
“As I told you previously,” he said, “these ticklish sensations are designed to awaken your nerves, and not to make you laugh as you might have thought. Your body will build continuously toward the brink of ecstasy.”
He picked up a small vibrator from the trolley and held it up for Jennifer to see. This is a very special little vibrator with a tip like a pencil. There are some special little sensitive places where it is most useful. He turned the device on and proceeded to draw it through the creases at the top of her thighs. She arched her back and fought the restraints to get loose.
“Aaaaaaaaaah!” she cried, “Pleaheaheaheahease, stohohohohop!”
He continued to draw the feather, and later, the vibrator across her torso continuously for one hour. Jennifer had long ago started to perspire and the sheen of her sweat glistened on her smooth flawless young skin.
“Now, that completes the second part of our adventure together,” he told her, “and your body has now started to come to life. There is nothing holding you back anymore from the incredible sensations of pleasure that will come next.”
“Oh, please,” she pleaded, “no more, it’s awful what you’re doing to me. I can’t stand it anymore.”
“Have you ever heard of a book titled ‘The Agony and the Ecstasy’, Jennifer?” he asked her, “It was a book that introduced the idea that there is a fine line between the two. What you now feel is agony, torture if you will, will turn into the greatest, most intense ecstasy you can ever imagine, the greatest sexual arousal you have ever experienced.”
He picked up a container of baby powder and sprinkled it on Jennifer’s breasts, which glistened with sweat similar to the rest of her body, and gently massaged it into the skin while being very careful not to touch her nipples. She closed her eyes and leaned back her head with the sensation. He then picked up the large, stiff feather again, moving it toward her left breast.
“Please, no, not there!” Jennifer pleaded, “My breasts are so sensitive, especially now!”
As he continued to talk to her about sexual ecstasy and arousal, he slowly drew the feather across the very top edge of her left breast, moving a tiny fraction of an inch closer to her nipple with each successively longer and harder stroke, causing her to close her eyes and moan as she rolled her head from side to side, and causing her nipples to become painfully engorged with blood, more erect than she had ever though possible.
The strokes across the top half of her left breast continued repeatedly for fifteen long, agonizing minutes. He then continued his ministrations on the top part of her right breast, then the bottom half of her left breast and, finally, the bottom half of her right breast, each receiving sixty strokes of the feather over fifteen minutes. The entire treatment of her breasts lasted an hour.
He then moved her attention back to her stomach, working his way further down her thighs and legs, drawing the feather in long lengthwise and crosswise strokes. 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 orgasm. He moved to her arms and ribs, stroking the soft inside flesh of her upper arms and the curvature of her ribs, careful to avoid touching the very sensitive area of her armpits.
Jennifer was so close, oh so close, to the most intense sexual orgasm. But the man was an expert. He really knew the female anatomy, the 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.
“Now the next area we will work on,” the man told her, as he brought a wheeled stool to the foot end of the table, “is your feet.”
“Noooooo, God, noooooo!” Jennifer cried, as she felt the table lowering to completely flat position, “My feet are so ticklish! Please, I’ll die!”
Jennifer flexed her toes over and over again as she sensed his presence right by her feet. They were small and pretty, in perfect proportion, beautifully cleaned and manicured, with no dead tissue or callouses of any kind, and perfectly kissable. He took her left foot in his hands, holding it delicately between both hands, and kissed the ball of her foot, inhaling deeply to see if there was any smell.
The first stroke was like fire through Jennifer’s nervous system. He had drawn the stiff feather along the axis of the length of her foot, through the crease that parted the ball of her foot into two sides. The sensation was so intense that Jennifer couldn’t even scream. He then drew the feather carefully across the sole of her foot, threading it through the creases in the skin of the sole of her foot as she flexed her toes. Whenever she flexed her toes, though, he drew another feather down the top of her foot lengthwise, in the soft crease between the tendons. He continued this for a half hour on each foot.
He then picked up the fine point vibrator and began to work it carefully on the bottom of each toe, continuing onto the front part of the balls of feet, and finally into the soft, delicate spaces in the hollow under her toes and between her toes. As she continued to plead and scream, he spent half an hour on this treatment, simply holding the balls and toes of her feet between the thumb and fingers of one hand.
He knew she was on the verge of orgasm as he moved the feather to the soft flesh on the inside of her thighs. 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 want you to learn and experience all that it is to be female,” he said, “to have such a magnificent body with the most complex nervous system ever created, a nervous system designed for the most intense physical pleasure. The female body was designed for pleasure, it was made to experience intense sexual pleasure, and I want to take you to heights of ecstasy that you never dreamed possible, pleasures that few women today can even imagine, let alone experience. Not like schoolboys and office romeos who simply want to get in, jump up and down a few times, and then simply leave you behind as another conquest. For you, after this experience, that will never do again.”
“Please let me go,” she pleaded, “I’m 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 continuous stroking of the feather on the soft inside of Jennifer’s thighs was maddening. She was so close to orgasm and yet she couldn’t climax.
“Please, please God!” she prayed silently, “Let me come!”
“I can’t release you just yet, Jennifer,” 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 leaned down and kissed her stomach, between her navel and her pubic hair, and moved his tongue through her pubic hair to her genitals, biting her curly hair as he slowly made his way through. He kissed her genitals, and brought her to the throes of orgasm by kissing and tickling her most sensitive parts, delicately licking her clitoris, gently forcing his tongue into her vagina, and 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, as much as possible 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.
The man released the restraints holding Jennifer and carried her to the Japanese style baths where he gently bathed her, washed her hair, dried her and powdered her taking an hour to do so. Jennifer was so exhausted she offered no resistance. To her it felt so wonderful with the warmth of the water, the coolness of the tiles, the fragrance of tropical flowers and a physical love as she had never known before.
After the bath, Koto-san carried her to the bedroom and placed her in the soft folds of the beddings. He laid down beside her and held her, allowing her to drift softly to sleep.
“Good night, little one,” he softly told her, “until we meet again.”
Some time later, as the others were waking up, and April called her, she looked about herself.
“Wow,” she said to herself, “was it only a dream? Even my muscles are sore! I can still smell the hibiscus and the orchids from the bath! I can still feel the powder on my skin!”
Anyone watching Big Brother this summer might enjoy this story - thanks
Jennifer's Big Brother 6 Adventure
Jennifer was fast asleep in one of the big bedrooms surrounded by six of the other house guests. It had been a busy day with everyone concerned about the upcoming eviction of one of the guests and the food competition for next week’s groceries. She dreaded the idea of another week on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It was good, though, and there would be proper meals for the next week. She was tired and fell asleep almost immediately.
Jennifer was a pretty, dark-haired, petite young woman from Texas, a university graduate and a dancer in perfect physical condition. She had beautiful, big brown eyes to go with a gorgeous, fetching smile and a long, brunette hair. Another house guest, 23-year old Sarah, looked quite similar to her but was about four inches taller.
Although Jennifer always liked to sleep with nothing but her panties, and her friend and sorority sister April slept in the next bed, she wore pyjamas when sleeping in the house, as there were cameras all over the house and a number of male guests around.
Although she wasn’t one to toss and turn in bed all night, she normally did change
position from time to time. Jennifer 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 on the other side, facing to the left. She rarely slept on her back, a position she didn’t find very 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, though, was that she couldn’t do it. Something was holding her.
Sensing that something was not right, Jennifer’s eyes flashed open immediately. She immediately realized that she was no longer in her bed, or even in the big bedroom with the others, or even the house for that matter. She tried to move but it was impossible. She was held down on a large table that was tilted at a forty-five degree angle to the floor. Her wrists were secured in special restraints high above her head and out to the side. Her ankles were similarly secured at the foot end of the table and held wide apart. She was completely naked.
‘Oh, my God,’ she said softly, ‘where the hell am I?’
As she took in her surrounding, she saw various cabinets with stainless steel doors in the walls, computer terminals, lights and moveable trolleys. She could see herself and the table on which she was confined in the gleaming stainless steel doors of the cabinets to her right. It was a large table that was specifically designed to secure a woman in the most compromising position, spreadeagle with her arms high above her head and her legs widely parted. It could be turned and tilted to various angles.
Jennifer had no idea how she had come to this place, remembering only that she had laid down in her bed, said good night to April and some of the others, and gone to sleep almost immediately. She started to get scared. She tried to pull her arms and legs free but soon found that it was useless. She trembled as she waited, helplessly strapped down and completely naked.
Although she had no real concept of the time, she thought it was about twenty or thirty minutes later that a man came into the chamber. He was quite a bid man in his late forties or early fifties, heavy set and muscular, but not fat. There was a certain elegance about him and she immediately sensed that he was a powerful and authoritative figure. She put on a brave face and challenged him.
“What the hell is this?” she started, “How did I get here? And who the hell are you? What do you want with me?”
The man brought a chair over from one of the computer terminals and placed it at the foot end of the table, close to her feet. He then sat down in the chair looking up at the entire length of her body and directly into her deep brown eyes. She had never felt so vulnerably feminine as she did with this strong, powerful man looking into her eyes over the entire length of her helplessly, spreadeagled female body. She moved her hands and feet slightly, as if to release them. He crossed one leg over the other and made himself comfortable, holding one knee in his hands.
“Your name is Jennifer, you are a twenty-seven year old university graduate from Texas, you dance form one of the sports teams in that state, and you are a contestant on a popular television show attempting to outlast other competitors and win a substantial cash prize. All of America knows these things. But I know a great deal more about you, things that I have sensed in you by watching you over the past few weeks. You, Jennifer, are a romantic. You love to maintain a scrapbook of all of the things that you have done. You love to eat out, attend theatres and concerts, and work out regularly. You are very proud of your physical appearance and your personality. And yet, at the age of twenty-seven, you are still single.”
Jennifer was mesmerized by the man, not only by the things he said, but also by the way he said them, by his manner and his voice. He touched her feet, taking one of her size six feet in each hand, stroking the top of each foot gently and lovingly with his fingers as he held it.
“Your little feet are cold,” he observed, “and you are trembling. Don’t be afraid, I will not harm you, and you will be back in your bed in a little while.”
“Please let me go,” she said, looking into his eyes, realizing that was not going to happen, “just take me back to the house.”
“My name, Jennifer,” he said, “is Master Sandrak Van Koto, and you may address me as Koto-san. I am an industrial scientist and inventor with a particular mission that I very deeply believe in. I am able to locate any person in the world through advanced genetic coding systems, far beyond regular dna profiling, simply from a picture or a television image. I can then transport that person to this location, or any other place that I choose, even any other time that I choose, keep the person for any time that I like, and return her to the exact location and time from which I removed her. These scientific concepts are not yet regularly available in the world because of the manner in which they could be abused by certain people.”
“The mission that I feel so strongly about, though, Jennifer, is to correct the terrible wrongs that the feminists have perpetrated on the women of the world for so many years now, in conditioning women to believe that they are not equal to men but that they are equivalent to men, so that they cannot now appreciate and enjoy the magnificent bodies they have, the incredible sensitive nervous systems with which they have been blessed, and the overwhelming ecstasy that they should be able to experience. I can only provide this experience to a very few women with whom I am particularly impressed, either in real life or on television. You are one of them.”
“So what are you going to do to,” she asked, “please, I just want to go back.”
“Do not be afraid, Jennifer,” he said, in an almost fatherly manner, “I am going to introduce you to your body, and you will learn to experience sensations that you never imagined possible, even when pleasuring yourself in the privacy of your own apartment. I will show you the intensity for which your body was designed.”
He rose from the chair and picked up a large, stiff feather from one of the trolleys in the room, the one closest to the computer terminal from which he had taken the chair, and which he had returned to its former location.
“Please don’t tickle me with that feather,” she pleaded, “I can’t stand to be tickled on any part of my body.”
“That is because you have never experienced the sensation of tickling as a sexual one,” he explained, “most people only tickle and tickle to make you laugh insanely and uncontrollably. There is nothing sensual or pleasurable about that. This feather, though, has had the very soft outer edges trimmed off and a special compound put on to stiffen the inner feather. It is especially designed to awaken the outer ends of all the nerves in your body.”
He moved to the right side of the table close to her face, showing her the feather in his hand. He moved it along the jaw lines underneath her chin and down along her throat, then, as he held back her long brunette hair, back along her jaw lines to her ears, across her cheeks to her nose and mouth. She moved her head as best she could to avoid the touch of the feather and struggled helplessly against her restraints.
“Please stop,” she pleaded, “that feels so terrible. Aaaaaah! Oh, God, please, please stop.”
But his patience was incredible. He continued the treatment of her face, her throat, her ears and the soft flesh under her chin, for half an hour.
“If you would like me to stop this sensitizing of your face and your neck, you will have to kiss me,” he told her, “only a simple kiss, nothing passionate. If not, I shall continue.”
“Aaah! Okay, okay!” she said, “I’ll kiss you.”
“Are you sure,” he said, as he slowly drew the feather over her lower lip in one direction, then over her upper lip in the other, and then across the bottom of her nose.
“Yes! God, yes!” she said, “I’ll kiss you.”
And so, withdrawing the large, stiff feather, Koto-san reached over her and kissed her lightly on the lips as she lifted her head to kiss him.
“Do you see that I was correct,” he asked her, “your nipples are fully erect and you are already wet inside, you are flexing your toes with the sensations and all I have done is touch your face and your neck. Your body is coming to life.”
The man then moved to the computer console and pressed on of the buttons, holding it down as the table moved closer to the flat position, stopping at thirty degrees from the horizontal. Jennifer hadn’t really noticed any of the slight strain in her shoulders and arms from the previous position but she did feel some relief as the table became flatter.
The man returned to the right side of the table and located himself at about the middle of her body. He started to stroke the big feather across her stomach and along her sides, following the curvature of the spaces between her ribs. He moved the feather over her entire torso from below her breasts to the creases where it met her thighs on both sides of her brunette, curly pubic hair, and her sides from below her armpits to her hips. He was careful to avoid her breasts, her armpits and her genitals.
Jennifer squirmed and fidgeted on the big 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. She tried everything she could think of to ease the sensations - she stiffened her body, bit her lip, squeezed her eyes and clenched her fists. Nothing seemed to help. She felt her nipples harden and well even more, and the vaginal juices inside her get heavier and heavier.
“Oh, shit!” she exclaimed, “Oh, my God! Please stop!”
“As I told you previously,” he said, “these ticklish sensations are designed to awaken your nerves, and not to make you laugh as you might have thought. Your body will build continuously toward the brink of ecstasy.”
He picked up a small vibrator from the trolley and held it up for Jennifer to see. This is a very special little vibrator with a tip like a pencil. There are some special little sensitive places where it is most useful. He turned the device on and proceeded to draw it through the creases at the top of her thighs. She arched her back and fought the restraints to get loose.
“Aaaaaaaaaah!” she cried, “Pleaheaheaheahease, stohohohohop!”
He continued to draw the feather, and later, the vibrator across her torso continuously for one hour. Jennifer had long ago started to perspire and the sheen of her sweat glistened on her smooth flawless young skin.
“Now, that completes the second part of our adventure together,” he told her, “and your body has now started to come to life. There is nothing holding you back anymore from the incredible sensations of pleasure that will come next.”
“Oh, please,” she pleaded, “no more, it’s awful what you’re doing to me. I can’t stand it anymore.”
“Have you ever heard of a book titled ‘The Agony and the Ecstasy’, Jennifer?” he asked her, “It was a book that introduced the idea that there is a fine line between the two. What you now feel is agony, torture if you will, will turn into the greatest, most intense ecstasy you can ever imagine, the greatest sexual arousal you have ever experienced.”
He picked up a container of baby powder and sprinkled it on Jennifer’s breasts, which glistened with sweat similar to the rest of her body, and gently massaged it into the skin while being very careful not to touch her nipples. She closed her eyes and leaned back her head with the sensation. He then picked up the large, stiff feather again, moving it toward her left breast.
“Please, no, not there!” Jennifer pleaded, “My breasts are so sensitive, especially now!”
As he continued to talk to her about sexual ecstasy and arousal, he slowly drew the feather across the very top edge of her left breast, moving a tiny fraction of an inch closer to her nipple with each successively longer and harder stroke, causing her to close her eyes and moan as she rolled her head from side to side, and causing her nipples to become painfully engorged with blood, more erect than she had ever though possible.
The strokes across the top half of her left breast continued repeatedly for fifteen long, agonizing minutes. He then continued his ministrations on the top part of her right breast, then the bottom half of her left breast and, finally, the bottom half of her right breast, each receiving sixty strokes of the feather over fifteen minutes. The entire treatment of her breasts lasted an hour.
He then moved her attention back to her stomach, working his way further down her thighs and legs, drawing the feather in long lengthwise and crosswise strokes. 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 orgasm. He moved to her arms and ribs, stroking the soft inside flesh of her upper arms and the curvature of her ribs, careful to avoid touching the very sensitive area of her armpits.
Jennifer was so close, oh so close, to the most intense sexual orgasm. But the man was an expert. He really knew the female anatomy, the 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.
“Now the next area we will work on,” the man told her, as he brought a wheeled stool to the foot end of the table, “is your feet.”
“Noooooo, God, noooooo!” Jennifer cried, as she felt the table lowering to completely flat position, “My feet are so ticklish! Please, I’ll die!”
Jennifer flexed her toes over and over again as she sensed his presence right by her feet. They were small and pretty, in perfect proportion, beautifully cleaned and manicured, with no dead tissue or callouses of any kind, and perfectly kissable. He took her left foot in his hands, holding it delicately between both hands, and kissed the ball of her foot, inhaling deeply to see if there was any smell.
The first stroke was like fire through Jennifer’s nervous system. He had drawn the stiff feather along the axis of the length of her foot, through the crease that parted the ball of her foot into two sides. The sensation was so intense that Jennifer couldn’t even scream. He then drew the feather carefully across the sole of her foot, threading it through the creases in the skin of the sole of her foot as she flexed her toes. Whenever she flexed her toes, though, he drew another feather down the top of her foot lengthwise, in the soft crease between the tendons. He continued this for a half hour on each foot.
He then picked up the fine point vibrator and began to work it carefully on the bottom of each toe, continuing onto the front part of the balls of feet, and finally into the soft, delicate spaces in the hollow under her toes and between her toes. As she continued to plead and scream, he spent half an hour on this treatment, simply holding the balls and toes of her feet between the thumb and fingers of one hand.
He knew she was on the verge of orgasm as he moved the feather to the soft flesh on the inside of her thighs. 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 want you to learn and experience all that it is to be female,” he said, “to have such a magnificent body with the most complex nervous system ever created, a nervous system designed for the most intense physical pleasure. The female body was designed for pleasure, it was made to experience intense sexual pleasure, and I want to take you to heights of ecstasy that you never dreamed possible, pleasures that few women today can even imagine, let alone experience. Not like schoolboys and office romeos who simply want to get in, jump up and down a few times, and then simply leave you behind as another conquest. For you, after this experience, that will never do again.”
“Please let me go,” she pleaded, “I’m 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 continuous stroking of the feather on the soft inside of Jennifer’s thighs was maddening. She was so close to orgasm and yet she couldn’t climax.
“Please, please God!” she prayed silently, “Let me come!”
“I can’t release you just yet, Jennifer,” 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 leaned down and kissed her stomach, between her navel and her pubic hair, and moved his tongue through her pubic hair to her genitals, biting her curly hair as he slowly made his way through. He kissed her genitals, and brought her to the throes of orgasm by kissing and tickling her most sensitive parts, delicately licking her clitoris, gently forcing his tongue into her vagina, and 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, as much as possible 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.
The man released the restraints holding Jennifer and carried her to the Japanese style baths where he gently bathed her, washed her hair, dried her and powdered her taking an hour to do so. Jennifer was so exhausted she offered no resistance. To her it felt so wonderful with the warmth of the water, the coolness of the tiles, the fragrance of tropical flowers and a physical love as she had never known before.
After the bath, Koto-san carried her to the bedroom and placed her in the soft folds of the beddings. He laid down beside her and held her, allowing her to drift softly to sleep.
“Good night, little one,” he softly told her, “until we meet again.”
Some time later, as the others were waking up, and April called her, she looked about herself.
“Wow,” she said to herself, “was it only a dream? Even my muscles are sore! I can still smell the hibiscus and the orchids from the bath! I can still feel the powder on my skin!”
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She started laughing, kicking and covering one foot up with another until he paused. He did it again a second time, but then stopped.
