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Story (?/f) "What You Can't See" (Chap. 1)

Kunzite

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Greetings all! This is my first time posting, and thought I might make a debut by offering a story I've just written. Although my first time posting on this board, I'm no stranger to the community, as I write for Morandilas' "Tales From the Asylum" Magazine. Do tell me what you think of this first chapter, and if you like my style, feel free to peruse my works in previous issues of "Tales from the Asylum".

Cheers,
Kunzite

"What You Can't See" - Chapter 1
by Kunzite

Miss Victoria Gingers moved through the crowded hallways, carrying a stack of books and a folder she was careful not to let fall. The halls of St. Mary’s School for Girls were filled with students talking to friends and hurrying to make it to their next class on time, generally both. Miss Gingers forced her way gently through the sea of white blouses and plaid skirts, taking nearly two minutes to reach the door to her classroom just down the hall. As she did, she was perturbed. She still hadn’t been able to find her red-framed glasses, which she had lost two days ago. She wore her black frames now, almost as good a fit but not as familiar. They would have to do until he found her others, she could still see well enough to teach her classes in them.

Miss Gingers entered the classroom, first as always, and placed her books down on her desk, drawing a few charts on the board in preparation for lecture. In the next few minutes her students trickled in to the room, all sitting ordered and in their places when the bell rang with eager to please expressions on their faces.

“Good morning class,” Miss Gingers began, “I hope you’ve all done the readings for today. How many of you girls found it difficult?” Nearly all of the girls raised their hands. “Well,” Miss Gingers continued, “sonnets can sometimes take some work. Let’s begin with the Shakespearean sonnets we had at the beginning of your reading, and then eventually we’ll move into Victorian sonnets. Remember as I told you to think about how content differs, if not form.”

Miss Gingers wrote several sonnets on the blackboard, which she proceeded to fill with marks showing scansion. The students watched; she knew that many of them were not listening, and were only waiting for class to be over, but she was used to that. However, throughout lecture, she became increasingly aware of a slight physical discomfort. Something that felt like a light touch on her skin. As time passed, the touches became more prominent, and she could feel them mostly underneath her skirt. It was quite embarrassing, but when she set the girls to reading from their respective books for a minute she checked underneath her skirt with one hand to see if anything was out of place. As far as she could tell, it wasn’t.

The period went on, and Miss Gingers needed to fight for concentration more and more. It definitely felt like someone was brushing her there with something light, like a feather. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? It had to be all in her head. But this was slim consolation as she felt a soft, fluffy feather gently stroke her butt, just between her round, creamy buns. It continued to stroke her here, sliding up and down her ass, which was incredibly tender and ticklish. The students could see Miss Gingers becoming tense and less animated. She broke off in the middle of her sentences to close her eyes and take a deep breath to gather the willpower to continue.

“Umm, is something wrong, Miss Gingers?” asked one of her students as they watched her.

“What? No, nothing’s…umm…wrong.” Miss Gingers hurried over to her desk and sat down, crossing her legs and hoping that this would give her strength. “I’ll…tell you what,” she began, with a slightly trembling voice, “Since you’ve…been so good, I’d…mmmph…hehe…like to have you all…read your favorite poems for the class!” The students readily agreed, realizing this would be easier than listening to lecture. Miss Gingers looked up at the clock. Only six minutes to go. She might make it without losing control of herself.

The first student began reading one of the sonnets. The feather touches were still there, running up her crack, underneath her panties where she couldn’t get to them. Miss Gingers crossed her legs even more tightly, a slight grin appearing on her face. Some of the students noticed she was not blinking as much. She nervously reached for a pen and played with it between her thumb and forefinger. Five minutes. The next student began, but Miss Gingers was not even listening to her. What could be causing this? She clenched her buns together and bounced slightly in her chair. She began twirling the pen in her fingers more nervously. Four minutes. She had forgotten how ticklish she was on her ass, but this invisible feather was fully exploiting that fact, sliding up and down slowly and patiently, waiting to break her. Her eyes were even wider by now, and she realized she hadn’t blinked in the last two minutes. Her upper lip trembled but she bit her tongue. Three minutes.

“Do you think so, Miss Gingers?” asked one of her girls, obviously asking a question. Miss Gingers looked at the class nervously. She hadn’t even been paying attention! “Umm, yes, why yes I do, Jackie, thank you for bringing that up!” she answered hastily. She heard a few giggles around the classroom. She must have said the wrong thing, but at this point she didn’t even matter. Her foot tapped nervously, and she played so frantically with the pen that it flipped out of her fingers and dropped to the ground! Without thinking, she bent over to pick it up. As she leaned over, the feather began moving faster, sliding up and down her butt like a pendulum. She squealed quietly, and dropped the pen again. Leave it where it is, she thought. I’ll get it later. She sat back up and folded her hands very tightly. Two minutes.

Miss Gingers’ glasses began to slip off her nose, but again she did not try to stop them, afraid of what might happen. Her teeth were clenched in a very tight smile, and several of the students in the front row could see several tears forming in her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. Her foot tapped so quickly that her right high-heeled shoe flipped off and fell to the floor. Her ticklish skin continued to endure the sadistic brushes of the invisible feather, even crueler in the fact that it only moved up and down, up and down…it was driving her mad. Another of the students started to read in a slow, drawling voice, laboring over every word. “Damn her!” thought Miss Gingers in spite of herself. “Can’t she finish? Can’t this period be over? Why can’t they see I’m suffering!” Her glasses fell on her desk, where she left them. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, and she began to get very flushed, breathing heavily. Her other shoe flipped off as she tapped it wildly, leaving her in her stocking feet, without glasses, and madly twiddling her thumbs on her desktop. She looked at the clock and had to squint to see what it said. One minute.

Every half-second brought a new sweep of the feather between her buns. She had lasted this long, she could do it! She inhaled quickly and held her breath, in the hopes that this would give her the strength to finish the final minute. She moved her hand over her desk for something, anything, she could squeeze. Nothing. The students’ calm voices in the background spoke slowly, patiently, mocking her ticklish torment. She could no longer see the clock through her tear-filled eyes; the world around her was blurry. She heard the sound of backpacks being packed up. It must be almost time, she thought to herself.

“What about our homework, Miss Gingers?” asked one of the perky young voices from the desks.

“Mmmmphh…hehehe….no homework!!” Miss Gingers managed to blurt out, biting her tongue again as soon as she had said it to prevent the laughter from spilling out. The girls all around her cheered with delight. She waited for the bell, but continued to hear nothing. It was almost over for her, her buns could not take this kind of punishment. Any moment now the next brush of the feather would break her, causing her to erupt into shrieks of laughter, rolling down on the classroom floor, disgraced in front of all her students. She had to fight it, she told herself.

Then, Miss Gingers heard the sweetest sound she had ever heard in her life. The class bell sounded, and all her students got up and ran to the classroom door, eager to take their breaks. However, for once, they were not the first ones out. The moment the bell rang, Miss Gingers was up on her feet, bounding out the door as fast as she could run. She left both her shoes and her glasses behind, not even noticing. She pushed her way through any students in the hallway without any remorse, sprinting towards the faculty restroom with the strokes of the feather driving her onwards.

She reached the door, flung it open, locked it behind her, and ran into the restroom stall. She tore off her skirt and pantyhose in a second, sliding her panties just as quickly. She did not know why this would help but felt the need to do anything she could. And just as she was about to lean against the door and fall into the most intense round of hysterics she had ever experienced…it stopped. She froze for a moment. That horrible feather, that she had lived with for the last eternity, was gone. What had happened? She felt her bare behind with one hand. No clue as to what had happened. She stood there alone in the stall, with her bottoms pulled down, waiting for the feeling to return. But it did not. As far as she could tell, she was free. She pulled up her underwear and her skirt again, her mind filled with questions. What had she felt in that classroom? What had caused it? And most importantly, how could she make sure it never happened again?
 
Great concept Kunzite! Glad to see you stepping into the Forum. Welcome!

I liked this. Very mysterious and original. I can't wait for the next part.
 
Thanks for the support! It looks like I could conceivably keep this story going for an indeterminate number of chapters to come. :)
 
I remember I had an idea for a story like this. But I could never make it as good as what you've written in this chapter. I am going on to chapter two right now. Good Stuff.
 
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