Greetings once again! I've decided to go ahead with the next installment of this story, which I genuinely hope people are enjoying. This one is a tad longer, but I don't imagine that I'll be hearing any complaints on that account! Enjoy!
Cheers,
Kunzite
"What You Can't See" - Chapter 3
On any other day, Miss Gingers would have felt revitalized after lunch as she climbed the steps to her classroom to prepare for English class. Today, she dreaded the encounter that was to follow. Katie was in her next class, and is she had read Marianne’s insinuations correctly, she would have to be very careful to avoid a repeat of what had happened before lunch. She stopped midway up the stairs and braced her hands against her knees, closing her eyes and drawing a deep breath. She had to relax, she told herself. Simply talk to Katie, and everything can be worked out.
On the way up to the classroom, Miss Gingers stopped in the ladies’ room. While inside her stall she rearranged her clothing, especially her panties and stockings, which were uncomfortably out of place. As she left she looked at herself in the mirror. She was dressed as she normally was, with black glasses and her hair done up in a bun, with a white blouse, khaki skirt and tan pantyhose, wearing high-heeled shoes. She hoped that she looked as composed as always, because she certainly didn’t feel it right now.
Just as she stepped out of the restroom, Miss Gingers was surprised and unnerved to find Katie just outside. “Hello, Katie,” she said, trying to sound as casual as possible. Katie smiled and returned the greeting, looking at her teacher as though she were expecting something. “Oh, by the way, Katie,” said Miss Gingers hurriedly, “I would like to talk to you after class. I think that I’ve been…er…too hard on you in the past, and I’d like to talk about…well…raising your grade in my class.” She flashed a smile at her student, which felt dreadfully forced to her, but either Katie didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Thank you Miss Gingers! I’ve been trying, I really have!” The insincerity with which she said this was palpable. She obviously knew she had not been trying, and her happiness was one of expectancy, not of surprise. “I’ll see you in class, thank you again!” Katie said, and went in the door to Miss Gingers’ classroom.
Miss Gingers followed, trying to avoid eye contact with Katie for the rest of the class period. She taught her lesson plan for the day, detailing literary structures and terms, but none of it seemed relevant to her. She could not get her mind off the questions at hand. How much did Katie know? And who was responsible for all this, her or Marianne?
But Katie was the foremost on her mind. Throughout the entire class, Katie stared at her, piercing her outer composure, seeing into her secret fear. She wished this class were over so she could give Katie what she wanted and then go home. But would that solve her problems? So far, her tickling had been seemingly whimsical, not punishment for her actions, but almost like intimidation, proving to her that she had no control over what happened. But she couldn’t think about that; she tried her best to concentrate on her lecture, and writing definitions and diagrams on the blackboard, while everyone but Katie copied them down.
Miss Gingers reached up to write on the blackboard, but as she did, she had to stop herself from gasping out loud in terror. She could feel it again, the invisible feather underneath her panties, mercilessly tickling between her buns. “No, please no, not now…” she whispered to herself under her breath. But there was no one to hear her. She paused for a moment, and realized the class was looking at her, waiting to copy down what she would write on the board next. She reached up and began writing. Gritting her teeth and determined to finish her lesson. But oh! it was hard with that feather stroking her ass! Her hand shook slightly, and her handwriting became noticeably more crooked. Normally, Miss Gingers wrote in perfectly aligned rows across the blackboard. Now, her writing was scrawled and crooked. She repeatedly fumbled with the chalk, and several students raised their hands asking what her writing said.
“J-j-just copy as b-best you c-can, class,” she stuttered as her knees trembled with the effort of remaining standing. She continued to write, and as she turned her back to the class she allowed herself to express a small measure of her torture with looks of anguish directed towards the blackboard, where no one could see.
But her unseen torturer had no intention of letting her off so easily. The invisible feather on her ass was joined by another sensation, one which almost made her cry with sheer helplessness when she felt it. Another feather was on her chest, stroking her ticklish breasts beneath her blouse. Miss Gingers leaned against the board for support, and her piece of chalk snapped in half. Why were they doing this to her?
She immediately turned around, and tried to continue talking. “N-now class, if you…mmmmmpphehehehe…turn to…p-p-page...hehe…next page.” She watched the class turn the pages in their books, not remembering to turn her own page, only thinking about her plight. “Now Julie, r-read about…hehehe…the feather—I mean the…the weather—and its effects on…” Miss Gingers could not finish her sentence, but hoped they knew what she was talking about. How she wished she could sit down at her desk, hide her torment and maybe give herself some support! But she had to remain at the blackboard, writing definitions that she did not even read herself, but copied rote and hoped that they were the ones she wanted.
There were two feathers on her chest now, one on each of her round, melon-shaped breasts. They brushed along the sides, slid between her cleavage, and teased her erect nipples, which she was sure had to be showing through her blouse by now. Although she dressed conservatively and few people would have guessed, Miss Gingers had very large breasts which the feathers were now taking advantage of. She never dreamed they would be used against her like this, in front of her entire class, tickled for some invisible observer’s amusement. She nearly reached up to grab her chest before she realized she was still in front of her class.
“Miss Gingers, what does that word mean?” asked one of the girls, pointing to something she had written on the board. Miss Gingers turned around desperately, looking for the girl who asked the question from over the top of her glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of her nose. She quickly turned her gaze back to the blackboard to see exactly what it was she had written. But she couldn’t concentrate, the only thing she wanted to do right now was erupt into laughter.
“Well, it’s sort of, you see…” stalled Miss Gingers, praying for a way out of her predicament, “Um, can anybody…mmmphhehehehe…help her with that?” She finally asked through her clenched teeth. A sea of hands went up, she randomly pointed at one without knowing who it belonged to, and did not even listen as its owner recited some definition from the book. Even speaking this much took all of her willpower. She tearfully wished the feathers would stop tickling her breasts, which heaved with the effort she was expending.
And the other feather was still stroking her ticklish buns, well aware of how sensitive she was in there. She noticed her butt was wiggling involuntarily, and her breasts jiggled as her chest shook with every breath she tried to draw in. She tried to straighten herself up, but she could not summon the strength. Sweat was trickling down her skin, and her hair, normally tied up so neatly in a bun, was beginning to come loose as random strands fell across her forehead. But the breasts were even more ticklish, causing her to double over momentarily nearly every time they crossed her nipples. If she could have stopped it by tearing open her blouse and taking off her bra right there, she might have considered it. But she knew that would be futile, which made it all the more maddening.
Just when she thought her ordeal could not get any worse, with her breasts and her ass feathered to the limits of her endurance, something happened. Something which caused her concentration to snap for a moment, and a laugh to escape, which she quickly covered up by a fake, embarrassed cough. She averted her eyes from the class and looked down in horror. The feather on her ass moved down her legs, down to her thighs. Her soft, plump, milky white thighs, always covered by her modest skirt and her pantyhose, were now the targets for the invisible feather. Miss Gingers had never been tickled on her thighs before, and with the first stroke all her hopes of making it through the class period were dashed. It worked in concert with the two feathers on her breasts, drawing the same tight circles, stroking up and down, left and right in perfect harmony.
Before this moment, Miss Gingers had never known how ticklish her thighs were. Now she was about to find out, in front of thirty English students. She had to redouble her efforts just to remain standing, holding onto the chalk tray for support. She groped around blindly for the pointer, hoping to use it to steady herself, but it was all the way on the other side of the board. She could never walk that far! She had to think of something: she made fists with her hands, forcing herself to draw together what few lucid thoughts she had left. Her quivering legs could no longer support her. She edged over slowly to her desk, using the board for support…slowly…
Suddenly she lost her grip, and without anything to hold on to, her ticklish body folded beneath her and she fell to the ground! She heard her class giggling behind her, obviously finding this spectacle humorous. On the ground, the feathers were twice as intense, her legs kicked involuntarily and her chest ached with the effort of keeping the laughter in. With all her strength, she managed to pull herself back on her feet, dusting herself off and trying her best to look as though it had been an accident. She picked up another piece of chalk and laboriously tried to write the next definition on the board, praying it would get better…
But Miss Gingers was almost ready to black out with the titanic effort it took her to remain standing and writing on the board. The feathers were like something out of a nightmare, and she was certain that if she didn’t find relief soon, she would wet her panties in front of the entire class. The feather between her legs continued to tease her inner thighs and beyond, and as tightly as she held her legs together it was no defense. Sheer desperation was driving her thoughts now; she didn’t care if she finished the class, she only knew she had to find a way out of here now!
Her first thought was to go to the ladies’ room, but her students had seen her coming out just before class. It would look suspicious, but what choice did she have? She felt like all eyes were on her, all the girls were staring at her, secretly laughing at her. Especially Katie. Katie started at her from her back-row desk, pretending to be taking notes and following the text. But she continually kept her eye on Miss Gingers, and beneath her innocent veneer she knew exactly what was happening to her teacher. She felt Katie’s eyes drilling into her, coaxing her to give it up and surrender all her dignity.
Miss Gingers couldn’t take it any more, she didn’t care if the girls did find it suspicious. “I’ve got to go girls, finish your readings!” she blurted out in a single syllable, and without waiting for any questions, she shoved open the door and ran out of the room, cupping her breasts in both hands and sprinting towards the ladies’ room, giggling all the way. The feather on her thighs was rising farther up, reaching more and more tender areas, until…she had to get to safety before that happened!
She finally reached the ladies’ room, pushing open the doors and running to the stalls. The feather was more than halfway up her thighs, heading towards the most tender spot of all, and if it got there too soon…but that wouldn’t happen, she was here in the restroom. She turned the corner and complete, unmitigated despair hit her. She stalls were all full! Pairs of feet could be seen under each of the locked doors; there was no place to go! “NOOOOOOO!!” Miss Gingers cried, beating on one of the doors with her hand, praying it wasn’t true. But it was. Oh god, the feather was getting closer, she needed to go somewhere! She spun around and ran out of the restroom, running as fast as she could in high-heeled shoes back to her office, where she knew she would be safe.
Miss Gingers rounded corner after corner as her shoes clacked loudly on the stone floors, but she did not care who she was disrupting. The feather was just at the point where her buns met her thighs, soon it would go inwards…she was already near desperation. But finally, she turned a final corner and there was her office door, at the end of the hallway! Her heart shone with a ray of hope as she hurried towards this beacon, running inside and slamming and locking the door. No one was here!
Oh god, it was almost there, just teasing the edges of her lips. Miss Gingers threw herself on the carpeted floor, her hands grasping at the edge of her desk to support her. A stack of test papers on the desktop collapsed and fell in a pile on the ground, but she simply pushed them aside. She tore off her blouse and skirt in a moment, throwing them in a corner. She slid down her pantyhose so fast she might have torn them, but it didn’t seem to matter. Her round breasts, encased only in her flimsy bra, were bobbing and bouncing wildly, teased by the feathers which continued to stroke them. She got down on her hands and knees on the floor, with her bare ass in the air and her bra, now half-unfastened, dangling from her shoulders as her breasts hung freely. Both her hands darted to her waist to pull down her panties as if it were the most urgent thing she had ever had to do. But just before they reached there, it was already too late. The tip of the invisible feather finally reached her swollen clit.
It only took a moment. Miss Gingers had been teased for hours, but even her willpower could not stem the tides which rose up inside her. At the first touch of the feather between her legs, Victoria raised her head up in the air and her eyes rolled completely back in her head as the wave of a massive orgasm overtook her. She screamed aloud with a mixture of heated moaning and hysterical laughter which had been pent up for longer than she had though possible, and came harder than she ever had in her life. The touch of the feathers blurred with the sheer intensity of everything she felt at once. She stood there on her knees, almost naked and drenching her panties the carpet beneath her for nearly a full minute while the feathers finally finished the task they had set out to do. And then, it was all gone. No more tickling, all her energy spent, her world a blank. Victoria Gingers took one final gasp of air and collapsed on her office floor in the pile of scattered test papers with an expression of infinite relief.
Cheers,
Kunzite
"What You Can't See" - Chapter 3
On any other day, Miss Gingers would have felt revitalized after lunch as she climbed the steps to her classroom to prepare for English class. Today, she dreaded the encounter that was to follow. Katie was in her next class, and is she had read Marianne’s insinuations correctly, she would have to be very careful to avoid a repeat of what had happened before lunch. She stopped midway up the stairs and braced her hands against her knees, closing her eyes and drawing a deep breath. She had to relax, she told herself. Simply talk to Katie, and everything can be worked out.
On the way up to the classroom, Miss Gingers stopped in the ladies’ room. While inside her stall she rearranged her clothing, especially her panties and stockings, which were uncomfortably out of place. As she left she looked at herself in the mirror. She was dressed as she normally was, with black glasses and her hair done up in a bun, with a white blouse, khaki skirt and tan pantyhose, wearing high-heeled shoes. She hoped that she looked as composed as always, because she certainly didn’t feel it right now.
Just as she stepped out of the restroom, Miss Gingers was surprised and unnerved to find Katie just outside. “Hello, Katie,” she said, trying to sound as casual as possible. Katie smiled and returned the greeting, looking at her teacher as though she were expecting something. “Oh, by the way, Katie,” said Miss Gingers hurriedly, “I would like to talk to you after class. I think that I’ve been…er…too hard on you in the past, and I’d like to talk about…well…raising your grade in my class.” She flashed a smile at her student, which felt dreadfully forced to her, but either Katie didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Thank you Miss Gingers! I’ve been trying, I really have!” The insincerity with which she said this was palpable. She obviously knew she had not been trying, and her happiness was one of expectancy, not of surprise. “I’ll see you in class, thank you again!” Katie said, and went in the door to Miss Gingers’ classroom.
Miss Gingers followed, trying to avoid eye contact with Katie for the rest of the class period. She taught her lesson plan for the day, detailing literary structures and terms, but none of it seemed relevant to her. She could not get her mind off the questions at hand. How much did Katie know? And who was responsible for all this, her or Marianne?
But Katie was the foremost on her mind. Throughout the entire class, Katie stared at her, piercing her outer composure, seeing into her secret fear. She wished this class were over so she could give Katie what she wanted and then go home. But would that solve her problems? So far, her tickling had been seemingly whimsical, not punishment for her actions, but almost like intimidation, proving to her that she had no control over what happened. But she couldn’t think about that; she tried her best to concentrate on her lecture, and writing definitions and diagrams on the blackboard, while everyone but Katie copied them down.
Miss Gingers reached up to write on the blackboard, but as she did, she had to stop herself from gasping out loud in terror. She could feel it again, the invisible feather underneath her panties, mercilessly tickling between her buns. “No, please no, not now…” she whispered to herself under her breath. But there was no one to hear her. She paused for a moment, and realized the class was looking at her, waiting to copy down what she would write on the board next. She reached up and began writing. Gritting her teeth and determined to finish her lesson. But oh! it was hard with that feather stroking her ass! Her hand shook slightly, and her handwriting became noticeably more crooked. Normally, Miss Gingers wrote in perfectly aligned rows across the blackboard. Now, her writing was scrawled and crooked. She repeatedly fumbled with the chalk, and several students raised their hands asking what her writing said.
“J-j-just copy as b-best you c-can, class,” she stuttered as her knees trembled with the effort of remaining standing. She continued to write, and as she turned her back to the class she allowed herself to express a small measure of her torture with looks of anguish directed towards the blackboard, where no one could see.
But her unseen torturer had no intention of letting her off so easily. The invisible feather on her ass was joined by another sensation, one which almost made her cry with sheer helplessness when she felt it. Another feather was on her chest, stroking her ticklish breasts beneath her blouse. Miss Gingers leaned against the board for support, and her piece of chalk snapped in half. Why were they doing this to her?
She immediately turned around, and tried to continue talking. “N-now class, if you…mmmmmpphehehehe…turn to…p-p-page...hehe…next page.” She watched the class turn the pages in their books, not remembering to turn her own page, only thinking about her plight. “Now Julie, r-read about…hehehe…the feather—I mean the…the weather—and its effects on…” Miss Gingers could not finish her sentence, but hoped they knew what she was talking about. How she wished she could sit down at her desk, hide her torment and maybe give herself some support! But she had to remain at the blackboard, writing definitions that she did not even read herself, but copied rote and hoped that they were the ones she wanted.
There were two feathers on her chest now, one on each of her round, melon-shaped breasts. They brushed along the sides, slid between her cleavage, and teased her erect nipples, which she was sure had to be showing through her blouse by now. Although she dressed conservatively and few people would have guessed, Miss Gingers had very large breasts which the feathers were now taking advantage of. She never dreamed they would be used against her like this, in front of her entire class, tickled for some invisible observer’s amusement. She nearly reached up to grab her chest before she realized she was still in front of her class.
“Miss Gingers, what does that word mean?” asked one of the girls, pointing to something she had written on the board. Miss Gingers turned around desperately, looking for the girl who asked the question from over the top of her glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of her nose. She quickly turned her gaze back to the blackboard to see exactly what it was she had written. But she couldn’t concentrate, the only thing she wanted to do right now was erupt into laughter.
“Well, it’s sort of, you see…” stalled Miss Gingers, praying for a way out of her predicament, “Um, can anybody…mmmphhehehehe…help her with that?” She finally asked through her clenched teeth. A sea of hands went up, she randomly pointed at one without knowing who it belonged to, and did not even listen as its owner recited some definition from the book. Even speaking this much took all of her willpower. She tearfully wished the feathers would stop tickling her breasts, which heaved with the effort she was expending.
And the other feather was still stroking her ticklish buns, well aware of how sensitive she was in there. She noticed her butt was wiggling involuntarily, and her breasts jiggled as her chest shook with every breath she tried to draw in. She tried to straighten herself up, but she could not summon the strength. Sweat was trickling down her skin, and her hair, normally tied up so neatly in a bun, was beginning to come loose as random strands fell across her forehead. But the breasts were even more ticklish, causing her to double over momentarily nearly every time they crossed her nipples. If she could have stopped it by tearing open her blouse and taking off her bra right there, she might have considered it. But she knew that would be futile, which made it all the more maddening.
Just when she thought her ordeal could not get any worse, with her breasts and her ass feathered to the limits of her endurance, something happened. Something which caused her concentration to snap for a moment, and a laugh to escape, which she quickly covered up by a fake, embarrassed cough. She averted her eyes from the class and looked down in horror. The feather on her ass moved down her legs, down to her thighs. Her soft, plump, milky white thighs, always covered by her modest skirt and her pantyhose, were now the targets for the invisible feather. Miss Gingers had never been tickled on her thighs before, and with the first stroke all her hopes of making it through the class period were dashed. It worked in concert with the two feathers on her breasts, drawing the same tight circles, stroking up and down, left and right in perfect harmony.
Before this moment, Miss Gingers had never known how ticklish her thighs were. Now she was about to find out, in front of thirty English students. She had to redouble her efforts just to remain standing, holding onto the chalk tray for support. She groped around blindly for the pointer, hoping to use it to steady herself, but it was all the way on the other side of the board. She could never walk that far! She had to think of something: she made fists with her hands, forcing herself to draw together what few lucid thoughts she had left. Her quivering legs could no longer support her. She edged over slowly to her desk, using the board for support…slowly…
Suddenly she lost her grip, and without anything to hold on to, her ticklish body folded beneath her and she fell to the ground! She heard her class giggling behind her, obviously finding this spectacle humorous. On the ground, the feathers were twice as intense, her legs kicked involuntarily and her chest ached with the effort of keeping the laughter in. With all her strength, she managed to pull herself back on her feet, dusting herself off and trying her best to look as though it had been an accident. She picked up another piece of chalk and laboriously tried to write the next definition on the board, praying it would get better…
But Miss Gingers was almost ready to black out with the titanic effort it took her to remain standing and writing on the board. The feathers were like something out of a nightmare, and she was certain that if she didn’t find relief soon, she would wet her panties in front of the entire class. The feather between her legs continued to tease her inner thighs and beyond, and as tightly as she held her legs together it was no defense. Sheer desperation was driving her thoughts now; she didn’t care if she finished the class, she only knew she had to find a way out of here now!
Her first thought was to go to the ladies’ room, but her students had seen her coming out just before class. It would look suspicious, but what choice did she have? She felt like all eyes were on her, all the girls were staring at her, secretly laughing at her. Especially Katie. Katie started at her from her back-row desk, pretending to be taking notes and following the text. But she continually kept her eye on Miss Gingers, and beneath her innocent veneer she knew exactly what was happening to her teacher. She felt Katie’s eyes drilling into her, coaxing her to give it up and surrender all her dignity.
Miss Gingers couldn’t take it any more, she didn’t care if the girls did find it suspicious. “I’ve got to go girls, finish your readings!” she blurted out in a single syllable, and without waiting for any questions, she shoved open the door and ran out of the room, cupping her breasts in both hands and sprinting towards the ladies’ room, giggling all the way. The feather on her thighs was rising farther up, reaching more and more tender areas, until…she had to get to safety before that happened!
She finally reached the ladies’ room, pushing open the doors and running to the stalls. The feather was more than halfway up her thighs, heading towards the most tender spot of all, and if it got there too soon…but that wouldn’t happen, she was here in the restroom. She turned the corner and complete, unmitigated despair hit her. She stalls were all full! Pairs of feet could be seen under each of the locked doors; there was no place to go! “NOOOOOOO!!” Miss Gingers cried, beating on one of the doors with her hand, praying it wasn’t true. But it was. Oh god, the feather was getting closer, she needed to go somewhere! She spun around and ran out of the restroom, running as fast as she could in high-heeled shoes back to her office, where she knew she would be safe.
Miss Gingers rounded corner after corner as her shoes clacked loudly on the stone floors, but she did not care who she was disrupting. The feather was just at the point where her buns met her thighs, soon it would go inwards…she was already near desperation. But finally, she turned a final corner and there was her office door, at the end of the hallway! Her heart shone with a ray of hope as she hurried towards this beacon, running inside and slamming and locking the door. No one was here!
Oh god, it was almost there, just teasing the edges of her lips. Miss Gingers threw herself on the carpeted floor, her hands grasping at the edge of her desk to support her. A stack of test papers on the desktop collapsed and fell in a pile on the ground, but she simply pushed them aside. She tore off her blouse and skirt in a moment, throwing them in a corner. She slid down her pantyhose so fast she might have torn them, but it didn’t seem to matter. Her round breasts, encased only in her flimsy bra, were bobbing and bouncing wildly, teased by the feathers which continued to stroke them. She got down on her hands and knees on the floor, with her bare ass in the air and her bra, now half-unfastened, dangling from her shoulders as her breasts hung freely. Both her hands darted to her waist to pull down her panties as if it were the most urgent thing she had ever had to do. But just before they reached there, it was already too late. The tip of the invisible feather finally reached her swollen clit.
It only took a moment. Miss Gingers had been teased for hours, but even her willpower could not stem the tides which rose up inside her. At the first touch of the feather between her legs, Victoria raised her head up in the air and her eyes rolled completely back in her head as the wave of a massive orgasm overtook her. She screamed aloud with a mixture of heated moaning and hysterical laughter which had been pent up for longer than she had though possible, and came harder than she ever had in her life. The touch of the feathers blurred with the sheer intensity of everything she felt at once. She stood there on her knees, almost naked and drenching her panties the carpet beneath her for nearly a full minute while the feathers finally finished the task they had set out to do. And then, it was all gone. No more tickling, all her energy spent, her world a blank. Victoria Gingers took one final gasp of air and collapsed on her office floor in the pile of scattered test papers with an expression of infinite relief.
Hurry with the next one! Don't leave us hangin' man!
