tkl-pen
1st Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2001
- Messages
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DID ANY OF YOU SEE 'BEAUTY AND THE GEEK' THIS WEEK - WELL, I WAS INSPIRED TO WRITE A NEW STORY - IT WAS INSPIRED BY A PARTICULAR LADY BUT IS NOT MEANT TO REFLECT HER IN ANY WAY. THIS IS ONLY A FANTASY - NOTHING MORE.
ANDREA’S B-G ADVENTURE
Andrea was fast asleep. She had arrived at the mansion of the new reality show early this morning and was soon matched with the nerd who would be her partner for the coming competition, one with a million dollar prize for the winning couple. What an idea, she had thought, to partner a beauty pageant winner like herself with an absolute geek, for a contest that was going to last several weeks. Oh well, the pretty Latina had thought, it’s all in good fun. She had very nearly quit the contest on its first day, though, when she saw the manner in which her nerdy partner applied himself to the tasks that were presented as competitions. He was asleep, too, in his own bed, but in the same room.
When her feet started to tingle, Andrea thought she was dreaming. It was only a little tingle at first, but it quickly grew in intensity and made its way further up her legs and then the rest of her body. She tried to move her legs to see if that would ease the tingling she was feeling but she found that she couldn’t even move her legs. Somehow her body was becoming completely immobilized, starting with her feet and then further and further toward her head. She tried to call out to her partner in the next bed, but he was fast asleep and, indeed, no sound came out of her mouth. Little did she know that the same invisible rays that were immobilizing her ensured that he would remain asleep in his bed.
Andrea couldn’t believe how helpless she was. Her whole body was now tingling and she couldn’t move or make a sound. She hoped, understandably, that it was only a dream. Then, there was an unbelievably bright, radiant light that completely engulfed her and she passed out.
Andrea awakened only minutes later to find that the light and the tingling had disappeared. Even so, she was still unable to move. Something was holding her and she had no idea what it could be. She opened her eyes only to find herself naked and strapped down on a big x-shaped table in a very strange room, one that looked much like a medical operating room. She looked up at her arms only to realize that there were foam-lined stainless-steel restraints around her wrists and upper arms, and her hands were positioned below hand grips that she could grasp by closing her fingers. She lifted her head and saw similar metal restraints holding her legs widely apart, securing them at the ankles and thighs. She was restraint flat on her back in a perfect spread-eagle position, except that there was a pad beneath her rear end that caused her genitals to rise some inches above the surface of the table. She felt completely helpless and vulnerable in an absolutely compromising position. Even worse, she felt an unexplainable coolness where her pubic hair should be and noticed that her pubic hair had been removed, although it did not feel as if it had been shaved off.
Indeed, Andrea was naked and helpless. As she looked about the room, she noticed various cabinets, tables, trolleys, stools, control panels, computer terminals and lights. She could see herself and the device on which she was secured in the gleaming stainless steel doors of the cabinets along the wall to her right. It was a large table, specifically designed to helplessly secure a girl in the most compromising position imaginable, spreadeagled with her arms high above her head and her legs widely parted, with her genitals unbelievably exposed and vulnerable. She started to get scared.
“Oh, my God!” she said out loud, as she tried to struggle against the restraints that held her. She gripped the handles tightly and tried to pull or twist loose from the arm and leg restraints with all of her might. It was to no avail. In fact, the only effect that her struggles had were to make her feel the airflow around her helplessly exposed genitals and ass, held in mid-air six or seven inches above the surface of the table by the pad under her buttocks. She started to get scared, very scared.
Some time after she had awakened, Andrea saw a man enter the room through a sliding door that had opened for him. He was an elegant but powerful looking man in his fifties, she surmised, dressed in a perfectly form-fitting dark gray suit. He looked around the room and, seemingly satisfied with everything, neared the table on which Andrea was haplessly waiting for him.
“Ah, I see you are awake,” he said, “welcome to my special place, my playroom, my madlab, if you will.”
“Who the hell are you,“ she started, “and where the hell is this? You’d better let me go right now or there’s going to be a lot of trouble!”
“My, my,” he responded, “what unbelievable venom from such a pretty girl - the lovely Andrea Garcia, Latin beauty contestant and pageant winner. I was very taken by you, especially your eyes, when I saw you on television. I am delighted to see that you are even more beautiful in real life.”
“How the hell do you know so much about me, old man?”
“Oh, first the venom,” he said, “and now the name calling. You really are in no position to threaten or badger me, young lady. I would, in your position, be very much more careful in my choice or words, or my behaviour.”
“Whatever, old man! Let me go or there’s going to be hell to pay!”
“You, young lady, caught my eye in the very first episode of your new program,” he explained to her, “and I immediately set out to find out everything that I could about you. Then, when I decided to invite you for a visit to my playroom here, I made the appropriate arrangements. I have the facilities to take you right out of your bed without any resistance from you or interference from others at my disposal. When I am finished with you, I will return you to your bed at the exact same point in time that I removed you. And do you know what, pretty one?”
“No, what?”
“If you tell anyone about your adventure, they will all think it was a dream since, in your space and time, you never left your bed.”
“My God,” she asked, “do you mean that I’m not even on earth right now?”
“It’s a complicated thing to explain,” he said, “but essentially I have taken you out of your own space and time, your own dimension if you will, into another space and time, or another dimension so to speak. I can keep you in this space and time continuum as long as I like, yet return you into your own at the precise time you left.”
“What the hell do you want with me then, old man?”
“I have a particularly intense passion for beautiful young women,” he explained, “and I take great pleasure in the sexual stimulation of their bodies. Did you know, Andrea, that you have an incredible nervous system that can give you intense pleasure and flaming passion. It is only the oppressive limitations and inhibitions that your society places upon you, teaches you, and requires of you that deny you the opportunity of the wonders that your body is capable of. I believe that I do young women such as you a great service by revealing these possibilities and wonders to them.”
“Let me go, please,” she pleaded, as she saw him pick up a large and very stiff feather from one of the little wheeled tables along the wall.
“You know, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you,” he told her, “I
was deeply affected by the very unique beauty that I saw in you, not only your physical beauty but the inner beauty that I saw in your eyes.”
As he spoke to Andrea, he started to stroke the big feather across her stomach and sides, slowly working the entire front of her torso from below her breasts to the creases where it met her thighs, and along her sides from her armpits to her hips, carefully avoiding her breasts, her armpits and her genitals. He was stroking her soft and flawless skin more to intimidate her than to tickle her, demonstrating to her subconscious mind that she was very, very vulnerable and he was in total control of her.
“No,” she pleaded, “please don‘t! That tickles!”
Andrea squirmed and struggled on the x-shaped table holding her as the man continued to draw the stiff feather across the soft skin of her stomach and sides, slowly and purposefully, in long and agonizing strokes. She tried everything she could think of to ease the sensations - she stiffened the entire length of her body, bit into her lip, squeezed her eyes and clenched her fists around the hand grips. Nothing seemed to help. She felt her nipples start to swell and harden, and her genitals become moist inside with her arousal. That was the sign he was waiting for, as he moved to the area between her legs.
“One of the most sensitive areas of a woman’s body,” he explained, “is that of her genitalia. That is, of course, by design, because it is so essential to reproduction. But even beyond that simple biological function, it is a center of intense pleasure, arousal and excitement, perhaps the very core of a woman’s physical being. The society you live in does you and your proverbial sisters such an incredible disservice by not allowing you to experience all of the pleasure you can. Here, there are no such limitations or inhibitions, only the most intense pleasure you can imagine.”
“Aaaaah!” she screamed, as he drew the feather over the very sensitive area, which was already becoming aroused from his previous ministrations. She rolled her head from side to side, as he continued to draw the feather over the skin on both sides of her vulva, lengthwise along her genital lips, and eventually over her swollen clitoris.
“Oh, God! Oh, God!” she screamed, as she came closer and closer to climax. The anguish and agony built up in Andrea’s mind with each successive stroke as she squirmed and mewled and pleaded. Then, suddenly, her body stiffened and tensed, her teeth clenched, her eyes squeezed shut, her fists wrapped around the handgrips and her toes flexed as never before. She experienced the most intense sexual orgasm she had ever had. No man, in her twenty-four years of life, had ever given her such an intense sexual climax.
As Andrea recovered from her climax, as intense as it was, she realized that the man had seated himself on a wheeled stool by her left foot, and he was starting to stroke her very sensitive instep with the side of the feather. Like the rest of her, Andrea’s feet were very pretty - size 8 and in perfect proportion - beautifully cleaned and pedicured - no dead tissue or callouses of any kind - and perfectly kissable.
“Aah, my God,” she cried, “not my feet! Please, don’t tickle my feet!”
“Another part of a woman’s body that is extremely sensitive, and perfectly designed for stimulation, Andrea, is the sole of her foot. I’m not going to tickle you in a way that will cause you to laugh uncontrollably, but I am going to draw this feather across the sensitive soles of your feet slowly and intensely like this over and over again.”
“Aaah, please stop,” she pleaded, flexing her toes to their very utmost, “I can’t stand it.”
“At first, Andrea, this may not seem pleasant,” he told her, as he held the ball of her foot between the thumb and fingers of one hand while he manipulated the long, stiff feather with the other, “but as time goes on, it will become another source of intense sexual pleasure and stimulation for you.”
“Aaah, nohoho, please don’t do that!”
He continued his stroking across the soles of her feet for one full hour, moving to her right foot after ten minutes, then to her left after twenty minutes, and so on. Andrea continued to plead as the sensations of each stroke across her instep raced along her nervous system to her brain. It was absolute agony as the man made very sure that she felt each and every stroke individually.
“Aaaah,” Andrea cried, flexing her whole body as she suddenly felt the edge of the large feather drawn across her very sensitive anus, “what are you doing?”
“It is time for another sexual climax, I think!”
“No, please, no more,” she pleaded, “haven’t you done enough to me already?”
“What is that?” she asked, as he picked up a stainless steel device from one of the tables. It looked like a series of metal balls aligned in a row.
“This is something special that I think you are going to like,” he said, as he coated the device with petroleum jelly, “an anal stimulator.”
“Wha-what are you going to do with that?”
“I am going to massage your asshole with a little petroleum jelly,” he told her, “and when your anus relaxes, I am going to push this into your rectum. Then, when I stimulate your genitals, you will have a whole new additional sensation in your ass.”
“No, my God, no, please!”
“Okay,” he said, as he started to massage her asshole with his finger, “here we go. You can squeeze your asshole all you want, Andrea, but you will soon relax no matter how hard you try to resist, and then, in she goes.”
Less than five minutes later, over her protests, he inserted the anal stimulator deeply into her rectum. She had an orgasm almost immediately after he started to work the feather over her clitoris again. Since he didn’t stop his efforts, she had another climax shortly after that one, and a third several minutes later. While she had her third orgasm, he moved the anal stimulator in and out of her asshole, driving her nearly insane with the intensity of the sensations.
“Shit,” she cried, “stop doing this to me. I have had enough already!”
“You are so weak, Andrea,” he said, “you’ve only had four orgasms and I haven’t even touched your toes yet.”
“Aaaah,” she cried, as he drew the feather lengthwise through the space between two of her toes. Over the next hour, he drew the feather through the spaces between all of her toes, the little hollows under her toes and the soft soles of her feet, including the hyper-sensitive crease where the insteps meet the balls of her feet. She cried and screamed and pleaded as he continued. Suddenly, she had another orgasm, a climax that resulted from the tickling of her feet.
“There,” he said, “now you have had a sexual climax as a result of the stimulation of your feet. I didn’t even touch your genitals. Now you have started to learn, and to sense the extent to which your wonderful nervous system can take you. One day, Andrea, you will come to appreciate the thing that I have done for you.”
The man moved over to a computer console and entered several items into the computer. Andrea heard the opening of some panels in the table beneath her and soon felt the tickling probes all over her body. No ticklish part of her was spared. Her armpits, her breasts, her navel, her sides, her abdominal creases, her genitals, her asshole, her thighs, her knees and her feet were all tickled intensely by the automated system. She screamed and laughed uncontrollably, rolling her head from side to side as her beautiful long dark hair became a mess over her face, and she squeezed the handgrips as never before. The full body tickling lasted for a whole hour.
As she tried to catch her breath, the man released the restraints that had held her so perfectly and lifted her exhausted, sweaty body from the table. He gently lowered her into the warm, bubbly water of a Japanese bath in the next room. He sat down behind her, held her body before him and washed her long hair several times with the most luxurious shampoo money could buy. He then washed every part of her body, gently massaging each muscle and delicately washing every inch of her soft skin. He then patted her whole body dry, used a blow dryer to dry her long hair, and applied soft, luxurious moisturizing lotion to every part of her body. He carried her to another room and lowered her into the softness of luscious silken sheets and pillows. After bathing himself, he came to lie down with her, holding her gently as she slept.
“I don’t even know your name,” she said, as she awakened after a time, “but I have never been so aroused in all my life. I don’t know if I should thank you, love you or hate you.”
“It is important, pretty one,” he said, “that you appreciate the experience, be it a positive one or a negative one. My only hope is that I have shown you something new, perhaps something that will open new doors in your life.”
“Please,” she said, “can we have sex now?”
“If you are sure that you want to do so,” he said, “for I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“No, I’m sure,” she said, “please, let’s do it.”
“Now I have you,” Andrea said, as she felt the tingling returning to her feet and legs, “I have your DNA inside me and I’ll be able to prove that you abducted me and assaulted me. Your DNA will prove that it wasn’t a dream, and I will win.”
“Perhaps not,” he said, as the tingling engulfed her whole body, “for any trace of my DNA, or any that is not your own, will be removed as you transfer back to your own space time continuum, and to your own bed.”
“Aaaah!” she cried in frustration.
“Good night, pretty one,” he said, kissing her head, “sleep well, and perhaps we’ll meet again.”
ANDREA’S B-G ADVENTURE
Andrea was fast asleep. She had arrived at the mansion of the new reality show early this morning and was soon matched with the nerd who would be her partner for the coming competition, one with a million dollar prize for the winning couple. What an idea, she had thought, to partner a beauty pageant winner like herself with an absolute geek, for a contest that was going to last several weeks. Oh well, the pretty Latina had thought, it’s all in good fun. She had very nearly quit the contest on its first day, though, when she saw the manner in which her nerdy partner applied himself to the tasks that were presented as competitions. He was asleep, too, in his own bed, but in the same room.
When her feet started to tingle, Andrea thought she was dreaming. It was only a little tingle at first, but it quickly grew in intensity and made its way further up her legs and then the rest of her body. She tried to move her legs to see if that would ease the tingling she was feeling but she found that she couldn’t even move her legs. Somehow her body was becoming completely immobilized, starting with her feet and then further and further toward her head. She tried to call out to her partner in the next bed, but he was fast asleep and, indeed, no sound came out of her mouth. Little did she know that the same invisible rays that were immobilizing her ensured that he would remain asleep in his bed.
Andrea couldn’t believe how helpless she was. Her whole body was now tingling and she couldn’t move or make a sound. She hoped, understandably, that it was only a dream. Then, there was an unbelievably bright, radiant light that completely engulfed her and she passed out.
Andrea awakened only minutes later to find that the light and the tingling had disappeared. Even so, she was still unable to move. Something was holding her and she had no idea what it could be. She opened her eyes only to find herself naked and strapped down on a big x-shaped table in a very strange room, one that looked much like a medical operating room. She looked up at her arms only to realize that there were foam-lined stainless-steel restraints around her wrists and upper arms, and her hands were positioned below hand grips that she could grasp by closing her fingers. She lifted her head and saw similar metal restraints holding her legs widely apart, securing them at the ankles and thighs. She was restraint flat on her back in a perfect spread-eagle position, except that there was a pad beneath her rear end that caused her genitals to rise some inches above the surface of the table. She felt completely helpless and vulnerable in an absolutely compromising position. Even worse, she felt an unexplainable coolness where her pubic hair should be and noticed that her pubic hair had been removed, although it did not feel as if it had been shaved off.
Indeed, Andrea was naked and helpless. As she looked about the room, she noticed various cabinets, tables, trolleys, stools, control panels, computer terminals and lights. She could see herself and the device on which she was secured in the gleaming stainless steel doors of the cabinets along the wall to her right. It was a large table, specifically designed to helplessly secure a girl in the most compromising position imaginable, spreadeagled with her arms high above her head and her legs widely parted, with her genitals unbelievably exposed and vulnerable. She started to get scared.
“Oh, my God!” she said out loud, as she tried to struggle against the restraints that held her. She gripped the handles tightly and tried to pull or twist loose from the arm and leg restraints with all of her might. It was to no avail. In fact, the only effect that her struggles had were to make her feel the airflow around her helplessly exposed genitals and ass, held in mid-air six or seven inches above the surface of the table by the pad under her buttocks. She started to get scared, very scared.
Some time after she had awakened, Andrea saw a man enter the room through a sliding door that had opened for him. He was an elegant but powerful looking man in his fifties, she surmised, dressed in a perfectly form-fitting dark gray suit. He looked around the room and, seemingly satisfied with everything, neared the table on which Andrea was haplessly waiting for him.
“Ah, I see you are awake,” he said, “welcome to my special place, my playroom, my madlab, if you will.”
“Who the hell are you,“ she started, “and where the hell is this? You’d better let me go right now or there’s going to be a lot of trouble!”
“My, my,” he responded, “what unbelievable venom from such a pretty girl - the lovely Andrea Garcia, Latin beauty contestant and pageant winner. I was very taken by you, especially your eyes, when I saw you on television. I am delighted to see that you are even more beautiful in real life.”
“How the hell do you know so much about me, old man?”
“Oh, first the venom,” he said, “and now the name calling. You really are in no position to threaten or badger me, young lady. I would, in your position, be very much more careful in my choice or words, or my behaviour.”
“Whatever, old man! Let me go or there’s going to be hell to pay!”
“You, young lady, caught my eye in the very first episode of your new program,” he explained to her, “and I immediately set out to find out everything that I could about you. Then, when I decided to invite you for a visit to my playroom here, I made the appropriate arrangements. I have the facilities to take you right out of your bed without any resistance from you or interference from others at my disposal. When I am finished with you, I will return you to your bed at the exact same point in time that I removed you. And do you know what, pretty one?”
“No, what?”
“If you tell anyone about your adventure, they will all think it was a dream since, in your space and time, you never left your bed.”
“My God,” she asked, “do you mean that I’m not even on earth right now?”
“It’s a complicated thing to explain,” he said, “but essentially I have taken you out of your own space and time, your own dimension if you will, into another space and time, or another dimension so to speak. I can keep you in this space and time continuum as long as I like, yet return you into your own at the precise time you left.”
“What the hell do you want with me then, old man?”
“I have a particularly intense passion for beautiful young women,” he explained, “and I take great pleasure in the sexual stimulation of their bodies. Did you know, Andrea, that you have an incredible nervous system that can give you intense pleasure and flaming passion. It is only the oppressive limitations and inhibitions that your society places upon you, teaches you, and requires of you that deny you the opportunity of the wonders that your body is capable of. I believe that I do young women such as you a great service by revealing these possibilities and wonders to them.”
“Let me go, please,” she pleaded, as she saw him pick up a large and very stiff feather from one of the little wheeled tables along the wall.
“You know, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you,” he told her, “I
was deeply affected by the very unique beauty that I saw in you, not only your physical beauty but the inner beauty that I saw in your eyes.”
As he spoke to Andrea, he started to stroke the big feather across her stomach and sides, slowly working the entire front of her torso from below her breasts to the creases where it met her thighs, and along her sides from her armpits to her hips, carefully avoiding her breasts, her armpits and her genitals. He was stroking her soft and flawless skin more to intimidate her than to tickle her, demonstrating to her subconscious mind that she was very, very vulnerable and he was in total control of her.
“No,” she pleaded, “please don‘t! That tickles!”
Andrea squirmed and struggled on the x-shaped table holding her as the man continued to draw the stiff feather across the soft skin of her stomach and sides, slowly and purposefully, in long and agonizing strokes. She tried everything she could think of to ease the sensations - she stiffened the entire length of her body, bit into her lip, squeezed her eyes and clenched her fists around the hand grips. Nothing seemed to help. She felt her nipples start to swell and harden, and her genitals become moist inside with her arousal. That was the sign he was waiting for, as he moved to the area between her legs.
“One of the most sensitive areas of a woman’s body,” he explained, “is that of her genitalia. That is, of course, by design, because it is so essential to reproduction. But even beyond that simple biological function, it is a center of intense pleasure, arousal and excitement, perhaps the very core of a woman’s physical being. The society you live in does you and your proverbial sisters such an incredible disservice by not allowing you to experience all of the pleasure you can. Here, there are no such limitations or inhibitions, only the most intense pleasure you can imagine.”
“Aaaaah!” she screamed, as he drew the feather over the very sensitive area, which was already becoming aroused from his previous ministrations. She rolled her head from side to side, as he continued to draw the feather over the skin on both sides of her vulva, lengthwise along her genital lips, and eventually over her swollen clitoris.
“Oh, God! Oh, God!” she screamed, as she came closer and closer to climax. The anguish and agony built up in Andrea’s mind with each successive stroke as she squirmed and mewled and pleaded. Then, suddenly, her body stiffened and tensed, her teeth clenched, her eyes squeezed shut, her fists wrapped around the handgrips and her toes flexed as never before. She experienced the most intense sexual orgasm she had ever had. No man, in her twenty-four years of life, had ever given her such an intense sexual climax.
As Andrea recovered from her climax, as intense as it was, she realized that the man had seated himself on a wheeled stool by her left foot, and he was starting to stroke her very sensitive instep with the side of the feather. Like the rest of her, Andrea’s feet were very pretty - size 8 and in perfect proportion - beautifully cleaned and pedicured - no dead tissue or callouses of any kind - and perfectly kissable.
“Aah, my God,” she cried, “not my feet! Please, don’t tickle my feet!”
“Another part of a woman’s body that is extremely sensitive, and perfectly designed for stimulation, Andrea, is the sole of her foot. I’m not going to tickle you in a way that will cause you to laugh uncontrollably, but I am going to draw this feather across the sensitive soles of your feet slowly and intensely like this over and over again.”
“Aaah, please stop,” she pleaded, flexing her toes to their very utmost, “I can’t stand it.”
“At first, Andrea, this may not seem pleasant,” he told her, as he held the ball of her foot between the thumb and fingers of one hand while he manipulated the long, stiff feather with the other, “but as time goes on, it will become another source of intense sexual pleasure and stimulation for you.”
“Aaah, nohoho, please don’t do that!”
He continued his stroking across the soles of her feet for one full hour, moving to her right foot after ten minutes, then to her left after twenty minutes, and so on. Andrea continued to plead as the sensations of each stroke across her instep raced along her nervous system to her brain. It was absolute agony as the man made very sure that she felt each and every stroke individually.
“Aaaah,” Andrea cried, flexing her whole body as she suddenly felt the edge of the large feather drawn across her very sensitive anus, “what are you doing?”
“It is time for another sexual climax, I think!”
“No, please, no more,” she pleaded, “haven’t you done enough to me already?”
“What is that?” she asked, as he picked up a stainless steel device from one of the tables. It looked like a series of metal balls aligned in a row.
“This is something special that I think you are going to like,” he said, as he coated the device with petroleum jelly, “an anal stimulator.”
“Wha-what are you going to do with that?”
“I am going to massage your asshole with a little petroleum jelly,” he told her, “and when your anus relaxes, I am going to push this into your rectum. Then, when I stimulate your genitals, you will have a whole new additional sensation in your ass.”
“No, my God, no, please!”
“Okay,” he said, as he started to massage her asshole with his finger, “here we go. You can squeeze your asshole all you want, Andrea, but you will soon relax no matter how hard you try to resist, and then, in she goes.”
Less than five minutes later, over her protests, he inserted the anal stimulator deeply into her rectum. She had an orgasm almost immediately after he started to work the feather over her clitoris again. Since he didn’t stop his efforts, she had another climax shortly after that one, and a third several minutes later. While she had her third orgasm, he moved the anal stimulator in and out of her asshole, driving her nearly insane with the intensity of the sensations.
“Shit,” she cried, “stop doing this to me. I have had enough already!”
“You are so weak, Andrea,” he said, “you’ve only had four orgasms and I haven’t even touched your toes yet.”
“Aaaah,” she cried, as he drew the feather lengthwise through the space between two of her toes. Over the next hour, he drew the feather through the spaces between all of her toes, the little hollows under her toes and the soft soles of her feet, including the hyper-sensitive crease where the insteps meet the balls of her feet. She cried and screamed and pleaded as he continued. Suddenly, she had another orgasm, a climax that resulted from the tickling of her feet.
“There,” he said, “now you have had a sexual climax as a result of the stimulation of your feet. I didn’t even touch your genitals. Now you have started to learn, and to sense the extent to which your wonderful nervous system can take you. One day, Andrea, you will come to appreciate the thing that I have done for you.”
The man moved over to a computer console and entered several items into the computer. Andrea heard the opening of some panels in the table beneath her and soon felt the tickling probes all over her body. No ticklish part of her was spared. Her armpits, her breasts, her navel, her sides, her abdominal creases, her genitals, her asshole, her thighs, her knees and her feet were all tickled intensely by the automated system. She screamed and laughed uncontrollably, rolling her head from side to side as her beautiful long dark hair became a mess over her face, and she squeezed the handgrips as never before. The full body tickling lasted for a whole hour.
As she tried to catch her breath, the man released the restraints that had held her so perfectly and lifted her exhausted, sweaty body from the table. He gently lowered her into the warm, bubbly water of a Japanese bath in the next room. He sat down behind her, held her body before him and washed her long hair several times with the most luxurious shampoo money could buy. He then washed every part of her body, gently massaging each muscle and delicately washing every inch of her soft skin. He then patted her whole body dry, used a blow dryer to dry her long hair, and applied soft, luxurious moisturizing lotion to every part of her body. He carried her to another room and lowered her into the softness of luscious silken sheets and pillows. After bathing himself, he came to lie down with her, holding her gently as she slept.
“I don’t even know your name,” she said, as she awakened after a time, “but I have never been so aroused in all my life. I don’t know if I should thank you, love you or hate you.”
“It is important, pretty one,” he said, “that you appreciate the experience, be it a positive one or a negative one. My only hope is that I have shown you something new, perhaps something that will open new doors in your life.”
“Please,” she said, “can we have sex now?”
“If you are sure that you want to do so,” he said, “for I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“No, I’m sure,” she said, “please, let’s do it.”
“Now I have you,” Andrea said, as she felt the tingling returning to her feet and legs, “I have your DNA inside me and I’ll be able to prove that you abducted me and assaulted me. Your DNA will prove that it wasn’t a dream, and I will win.”
“Perhaps not,” he said, as the tingling engulfed her whole body, “for any trace of my DNA, or any that is not your own, will be removed as you transfer back to your own space time continuum, and to your own bed.”
“Aaaah!” she cried in frustration.
“Good night, pretty one,” he said, kissing her head, “sleep well, and perhaps we’ll meet again.”
