lois333
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- Jan 13, 2012
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Hey guys ! I'm back from my vacations, and so I close the poll (will put a comment) - I've started working on Bound by Desire, my new story.
The Happy Milk story is a two-part story that has been comissioned. I have the explicit agreement to share the story.
It features intense tickling, and Hucow fetish.
All the characters in this story were created by TheDirtyMonkey who gave his agreement to use his work as a reference.
Veronica Sweet is the mother of Jack and Sarah, and her husband is Henry Sweet. Veronica for reference : https://rule34.xxx/index.php?page😛ost&s=view&id=4268361&tags=veronica_sweet+
Time had lost all meaning. Two hours. Two long hours of being overwhelmed by an unceasing flood of laughter and pleasure. Two hours without respite, without escape, where her body had been forced to accept this improbable mix of suffering and enjoyment. And now... She was there.
Still on all fours, her body glistening with sweat, trembling with residual spasms, her heavy chest swaying under the uncontrolled jerks of her ragged breath. Her half-open mouth let out a warm breath, a mix between a broken laugh and an ecstatic moan. Her face was ravaged by the ordeal. The once-impeccable lipstick had smeared, her lashes heavy with melted mascara, tracing black streaks down her flushed cheeks.
Her tear-filled eyes were half-closed, lost between reality and total submission to the experience. Her feet remained offered to the sky, her toes still exposed to the relentless cruelty of the feathers. Ten. Ten little silky torturers, still there, still active, still fluttering between her polished toes. The soles of her feet still quivered, wrinkling, relaxing, wrinkling again under each precise brush, each targeted caress on her most sensitive spots.
Her body no longer reacted as violently as before... But her toes still trembled, opening and closing nervously, testifying to the extreme sensitivity that persisted despite the exhaustion. Each whirlwind of feathers between her toes sent new shivers running up her legs to her belly, still knotted from the previous orgasms. And yet... She was still laughing. A softer, lower, more lascivious laugh... But a laugh nonetheless.
— Haha... hehehe maha poor feehihihit...
On her bare chest, offered to the cold air, the feathers also continued their hypnotic dance. They traversed her curves, followed the tender line of her breasts, brushed against her nipples still erect with excitement. She panted, trembled with each undulation on her swollen nipples, already ultra-sensitive after so much stimulation. She no longer had the strength to struggle; she submitted, totally abandoned.
Her back arched despite herself, her mouth letting out trembling sighs, interspersed with brief, uncontrolled bursts of laughter. She no longer thought about anything. Only the feathers, that diabolically soft caress that denied her all rest. She was a stormy sea, rocked by the storm of sensations, tossed between enjoyment and extreme sensitivity.
And then... There was that one. The cruelest. The most vicious. The most unbearable. The one that reigned between her thighs, brushing against her soaked intimacy with unbearable delicacy. It did not rub, did not press, did not penetrate. It just glided there, grazing the most sensitive flesh, caressing the swollen lips, hovering over her trembling clitoris without ever stopping.
— Nnnnnhhhh… Hahh… Hahh… Hahh…
Her breath broke into jagged moans, her belly contracted, her body begging for a relief she never obtained. She was there, perpetually on the verge of collapsing, but the feathers kept her suspended in the agony of pleasure, forcing her to endure the inexorable rise of desire again and again without ever allowing her to fully tip over. Her neck tensed. Her fingers gripped the armrests.
Her feet clenched more violently, her toes splaying to their maximum, then curling nervously. Her back arched more strongly... Her thighs clenched... Her mouth opened... And in a broken sigh, a final uncontrolled moan, she exploded in a last trembling orgasm, her body traversed by an uncontrollable shiver. Her muscles contracted in a total spasm, her belly hollowed out, her breasts quivered under the shockwave.
Her feet twitched, shaken by uncontrolled jerks, the feathers still clinging to her shivering toes. She no longer had the breath for it. Only a trembling, fragile, exhausted... but fulfilled laugh. Veronica no longer laughed. She was exhausted, trembling, breathless, her muscles still shaken by involuntary spasms.
Three hours of tickling, three hours of successive orgasms, and yet, the feathers continued their infernal dance on her bare skin. She no longer controlled anything. Her makeup had run down her face, black streaks underlining her cheeks flushed with effort. Her hair was disheveled, strands sticking to her sweat-beaded forehead. She was undone, fragile, and yet still vulnerable, tied on all fours, her legs immobilized from thighs to ankles, her arms locked up to the wrists.
— « Hhhhaa… nhhh… ple… please… »
Her voice was broken, her breath trembling, her words barely audible. She no longer laughed as much.
The tickling had become something else. It was no longer just torture. It was a perverse caress, a sensation that pushed her to the edge, a fragile bridge between pleasure and madness.
The feathers between her toes suddenly activated, gliding faster, pressing lightly, brushing against the hypersensitive hollows of her soles.
Her feet immediately tensed, her toes spreading and curling at a frantic pace, powerless against the relentless attack.
— AHAHAHA—NHHH! Hnnnnnnn…!
A new spasm coursed through her body, her chest quivering under the feathers that still grazed her engorged nipples. The mix of sensations was unbearable.
Her skin shivered, her lower abdomen pulsed, her consciousness drifted toward a state she no longer understood. She had never felt such a need.
Each caress of the feathers on her intimacy brought her closer to the edge, eliciting moans, tremors, and an increasingly unbearable anticipation.
Her fingers clenched in the void, her wrists tugging uselessly against the restraints, her back arching involuntarily, offering her body even more to the torture and ecstasy.
— Hhhhhh… nhhh… nhhhhaaaa… oh… oh my…
Her feet continued to tremble, the feathers attacking the ultra-sensitive skin between her toes, tracing invisible arcs on her moist and quivering soles.
Her face contorted, a mix of frustration, pleasure, and pain painting her marked features. She knew she was once again on the brink of orgasm.
Dr. Langley, in the shadows, took notes on every micro-reaction of Veronica, capturing the slightest twitches of her subdued body.
She refined the final parameters. She now had all the data necessary for the next stage. She pressed a button. The feathers intensified.
The ten feathers between her toes began to vibrate slightly, causing a wave of tickles so precise that Veronica screamed a mix of laughter and uncontrolled moans, her voice hoarse from having already screamed so much.
— AHAHAHAHHHHHHH—NNNNNHHHHHHH OHHHHH!!!
Her feet tried in vain to escape, her toes clenched in uncontrollable spasms, her skin shivering under the methodical attack.
The feathers on her breasts swirled, brushing against the already tortured tips, stimulating the most sensitive nerves, creating an almost unbearable sensation of ecstasy.
And finally… The feather between her legs began to spin.
Slower, more precisely, caressing just enough to cross the line.
— Nhhhh—ahhhhh—AHHHHNNNNNNNNNNHHHHHHH!!!
She froze, her body contracting in a final spasm, a perfect arc of tension and accumulated pleasure.
Then it was an explosion. An orgasm so violent that it shook her from head to toe, an orgasm broken by spasms, an orgasm that the feathers did not let subside.
She gasped, screamed, cried, the pleasure breaking her in total submission.
Her body shook with tremors, her back arched, her feet opening in a final spasm under the effect of the tickles.
Her toes separated, stiffened, then curled one last time as her sex still pulsed against the feather.
She was nothing more than a puppet broken by pleasure and tickles.
Everything had stopped. The silence, after hours of tickling and forced pleasure, was almost brutal.
Veronica gasped, her bare chest rising rapidly, gravity pulling her still trembling breasts toward the floor. Her glistening thighs, her silver-painted toes still clenched in the air, her entire body vibrated with the remnants of the imposed orgasms.
Her makeup was ruined. Black kohl ran under her eyes, tracing dirty lines of tears and pleasure. Her lipstick was partially erased, testifying to her biting and hysterical laughter. Her sweaty forehead, her disheveled hair, every part of her betrayed the progressive submission of her body.
And yet she was still there. Still conscious. Her heartbeat was erratic, but she struggled to regain her senses. That's when she heard it. The sharp sound of liquid moving in a syringe.
Her blurry gaze fell on Dr. Langley, standing before her. In her gloved hands, two syringes filled with a thick, slightly luminous pink liquid.
Veronica frowned, still too exhausted to formulate the question screaming in her mind.
Dr. Langley approached gently, observing her with that scientific and sadistic gleam in her eyes, as if studying a rare and fascinating creature.
— Your reactivity is exceptional… Every reaction has been carefully noted.
She reached out, caressing Veronica's burning cheek with her fingertips.
— "But your body must still be refined… To reach its full potential."
She raised the first syringe.
Veronica felt a cold shiver run up her spine.
— "Wait… This… What are you going to do to me?"
Dr. Langley did not respond immediately, preferring to brush against one of Veronica's heavy breasts, testing the new sensitivity of her flesh already engorged with pleasure.
— "Don't worry. It won't hurt… Just a new sensation."
And without further ado, she slowly inserted the needle into the top of the left breast, just next to the still taut areola.
— "Ahnn…!"
A mix of pain and excitement washed over her, an uncontrolled jolt arching her back.
Then the second. In the other breast, symmetrically. The warm liquid infiltrated under her skin.
Veronica first felt a gentle warmth spread under her skin. Then a burn.
A shiver of intense heat, as if an invisible flame was spreading under her epidermis, slowly undulating from her chest to her belly, then descending between her legs.
Her sex immediately contracted, as if suddenly deprived and hungry at the same time.
— "Hhhhnnn… Ahhh…"
She squirmed involuntarily, her thighs trembling slightly against the straps that kept them open.
She did not understand what was happening, but… her skin was on fire.
Her nipples throbbed, hardening almost painfully, her sex pulsed, wet, even more receptive than before.
A hunger. An animal heat that devoured her from within, a visceral need for contact, stimulation, friction.
— Wh… what is this…? she gasped, her breath ragged.
Dr. Langley smiled, observing every tremor, every desperate movement of Veronica.
— Your body is reacting to hormonal activation. Your sexual glands are in hyperstimulation… More lubrication… More receptivity… More pleasure…
Veronica gasped, her hips moving on their own, pressing against the air, as if seeking something, anything, to fill this sudden void.
And as the heat overwhelmed her, another sensation took hold. A new hypersensitivity.
Her entire epidermis was on alert, as if every millimeter of skin had become an ultra-sensitive nerve point.
The slightest breeze on her breasts made her shiver. The contact of her own hair against her nape elicited a slight spasm. Every part of her body was a playground ready to explode at the slightest touch. She did not even dare to imagine what the tickling would be like now.
Dr. Langley lightly grazed the hollow of the left breast with her fingernail.
— Aaaahh!
Veronica arched violently, as if she had just been touched with an electric shock.
Her body had become an ultra-sensitive instrument, each touch a shock, an orgasm in waiting.
Dr. Langley straightened slightly, analyzing Veronica's state.
— Fascinating… Your reactions are amplified beyond my expectations…
She tilted her head, then lightly grazed the top of Veronica's hip with her fingertips.
— Nnnhhh! Oh… ohh…
Veronica gasped, her gaze lost, her skin marbled with shivers, her hands clenched in the void.
She felt like a living antenna, picking up every micro-stimulation, every temperature variation.
Her head felt strange, as if it was slightly foggy. She could still think… But not clearly. As if every second distanced her a little more from her lucidity.
— You feel that, don't you? Dr. Langley whispered.
Veronica opened her mouth… But no answer came.
She was too focused on the sensations, too lost in the confusion of her own body.
Her heavy chest rose and fell slowly, her belly undulating with each breath, as if her body was learning a new way to exist.
Dr. Langley stepped back slightly.
— Very good. Very good.
She lightly tapped the touchscreen of a tablet next to her.
— We have reached the first stage.
She looked back at Veronica, now motionless, but visibly struggling internally with her own state.
— The next test… will be even more important.
A shiver of anticipation ran through Veronica.
She did not know what was coming next… But her body was already beginning to wait for it.
The silence had been but a respite, an illusion. With a simple gesture from Dr. Langley, everything resumed.
A violent shiver shook Veronica when two suction cups were attached to her swollen breasts, engulfing her sensitive nipples with clinical precision.
— "Nhhaaahh!"
The suction began. An exquisite tugging, a mix of pressure and suction that immediately awakened every nerve in her chest.
— Oohhh—!!
Veronica arched violently, her hands clenched in the void, her silver-painted toes curling abruptly. Her body was reacting much too strongly.
The aphrodisiac still pulsed within her, amplifying every sensation, every shiver, every contraction of pleasure.
She could feel the heat within her rising even faster, a primal, animal, uncontrollable need.
And as the suction on her breasts intensified, the tickling resumed.
Feathers, fewer than before, began their infernal dance again on her hypersensitive soles, tracing arabesques on her taut curves.
The mere contact was enough to provoke uncontrolled jolts.
— Hhhnnnnaaaahh!!
Her toes immediately clenched, contracting her delicate soles, furrowing them with deep creases in a desperate attempt to escape the unbearable softness.
But the lack of restraint gave her no advantage.
With each stroke of the feathers, her feet kicked the air, curled, shivered under the assault, sliding on the floor in an involuntary dance of resistance.
Her silver-painted toes opened, closed, trembled with each caress, but the torture persisted, forcing them into new desperate spasms.
— HHHAAAHH! NOHOHOHOOOOO!
Her heels clacked in the void, her right foot trembling more than the left, her entire body reacting to the light but inevitable assaults.
And the more she struggled, the more her excitement grew.
— AHHNNH!
A new cycle of suction began on her chest, sucking her nipples that had become hypersensitive points of tension.
The sensation was terribly intense.
She could feel something rising within her, an unnatural heat, like a ball of pleasure being pulled out of her by the perfectly calibrated machines.
— Aaahhh—haaahhhh!!
The suction synchronized its rhythm with the tremors of her belly, as if her entire body was resonating with the stimulation.
She could no longer breathe without moaning. Her body had become a wave of continuous pleasure, each breath amplifying her excitement.
She felt heavy, loosely tied, her chest vibrating with sensations, her breasts almost painfully full from the constant tugging.
And just when she thought she was reaching a lull, the other feathers returned, and she felt the inevitable.
A cold shiver, a diabolical touch. A solitary feather.
— NONONONONOOOOO!!
Too late. The feather slid between her swollen lips, brushing against her burning bud, tracing lazy movements along her dripping slit.
— HHHAAAHHAAHHHHH!
Her body exploded in spasms. Her sex contracted violently, reacting with disproportionate intensity, releasing an impressive amount of wetness.
The aphrodisiac had exacerbated everything.
Each little touch was a shockwave, an exquisite torture, a cruel mockery of her own desires. She could no longer even struggle. Each jolt of her body exposed her even more. Her hips undulated on their own, offering her sex to the torment despite herself.
Her hands trembled, clenching her fists as a last attempt to anchor herself to reality. She could no longer think. Only feel.
— NNHNNNNGGGHHH! AAAAHHHHHH—!!
A choked cry, her belly contracting violently, her thighs trembling under the intensity of the impending orgasm.
She had never been so vulnerable.
And yet… She wanted more. Everything aligned to break her.
The feathers on her feet. The suction cups on her breasts. The feather between her legs.
And suddenly, the rhythm accelerated.
— HHAAAAHHHHHHHAAAHHH!!
Her back arched sharply, a shiver of pure ecstasy shaking every muscle in her body.
The suction cups pressed harder on her breasts, the feathers redoubled on her feet, and the attack between her thighs intensified, tracing more precise, more incisive circles.
— OHNONONONONONONOHAAAHHH!!"
She could not hold back the tsunami.
A final spasm.
A broken scream.
And then…
An immeasurable orgasm, taking root in her belly, spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes.
Her fluid flowed down her thighs, her chest trembled violently under the suction, her feet struck the floor in a final protest.
The silence lasted only a heartbeat before everything resumed.
The suction cups on her breasts began to suck methodically again, creating that regular, almost soothing suction that made her heavy, taut, engorged breasts sway.
The feathers, meanwhile, had never stopped. On her feet, they continued their diabolical dance, gliding between her silver toes, quivering against her hypersensitive pads, tracing circles on her arches. Each brushstroke triggered an uncontrolled spasm, her toes spreading nervously before curling in a futile reflex.
But it was the feather between her legs that made her tremble again.
It still grazed her swollen clitoris, her soaked lips, relentlessly teasing that already burning area, exacerbated by hours of stimulation.
— Nnnhhh… Hhhhhaa… h-haahh…
Veronica gasped, her arms trembling beneath her, her forehead beaded with sweat. She tried to regain control, to not give in again to the overwhelming desire that was rising within her. She could feel the adrenaline, the raw pleasure, the tearing need… but she still resisted.
That's when she felt Dr. Langley's presence. A slight cold touch on her shoulder.
She barely opened her eyes and glimpsed, in the corner of her vision, a syringe filled with an opalescent pink liquid.
— Veronica… Dr. Langley murmured softly. You are ready for the real test.
Her heart skipped a beat. She did not even have time to react.
The needle, this time filled with a white liquid, penetrated her flesh with clinical precision, just under the base of her left breast.
A shiver ran through her immediately. She moaned, a trembling breath escaping her lips.
She felt the liquid spread through her veins like liquid fire.
An unreal heat spread under her skin, radiating from her breast, which gained a new sensitivity.
Her breathing accelerated abruptly.
— Oh… oh no… what… what is this…?
Dr. Langley did not respond.
She simply smiled.
And Veronica quickly understood.
Her skin became hypersensitive to a level she would never have believed possible. Each feather, each suction, each touch became unbearably intense.
The feathers on her feet seemed to multiply.
— AAAHHAHAHHAHA NOHOHOHOHOOO!!
Her toes spread violently, clenched, then desperately closed, her soles hollowing out, her heels clacking against the device. She could not prevent anything.
The suction cups on her breasts sucked harder, synchronized with the frantic beating of her heart.
Her chest trembled under the tugging, an electric pressure rising in her taut nipples.
— HHHAAAHH!! S-STOP!! PLEASE—!!
But the worst…
Was between her thighs.
The feather had begun to spin more slowly, but each pass over her burning sex sent uncontrollable shocks through her. As if her clitoris was a raw nerve.
— Nnnnnhhh! Haaaahhh… no… nooo…
Her belly contracted, her back arched involuntarily, her thighs trembled against the straps.
She wanted to flee. She wanted to beg. But the heat, the hunger, the excitement had become uncontrollable.
She could feel it coming. The point of no return. Langley, observing her precise reactions, moved closer, whispering in her ear:
— Relax… You're almost there.
Veronica weakly shook her head, her disheveled hair sticking to her damp forehead. She was still fighting, but she knew it was useless. The buildup was inevitable.
Her feet twitched under the feathers, her toes splayed, fluttering frantically. Her breasts bounced with the suction, heavy, engorged, stretched to the limit. Her hips swayed involuntarily, offered to the feather that swirled slowly over her drenched sex.
— P-please… please… stop… I… I can’t…
Her voice trembled, broken, a mix of hysterical laughter and sincere pleading. Yet, her stomach tightened. She felt the orgasm rising, enormous, uncontrollable, overwhelming her with no way back.
Veronica felt her body betraying her, every fiber of her being vibrating with heightened sensitivity. The feathers on her feet continued their infernal dance, each touch triggering uncontrollable spasms. Her toes, adorned with silver polish, curled and splayed frantically, desperately trying to escape this delicious torture.
Her chest, subjected to the rhythmic suction of the pumps, seemed on the verge of exploding. The cups pulled with increased intensity, stimulating her already hypersensitive nipples. Each suck sent waves of burning pleasure through her body, pushing her inexorably toward the breaking point.
The feather between her thighs continued its insidious caress, brushing against her clitoris with diabolical precision. Veronica tried to resist, to hold back the imminent orgasm, but her body, betrayed by the injection, no longer responded to her will.
— Nnnnhhh... please... I... I can't anymore... hahahaha...
Her hysterical laughter mixed with desperate pleas, her hips swaying involuntarily to intensify the contact with the feather. Her mind struggled to maintain a semblance of control, but each stimulation plunged her deeper into abandon.
The pumps on her breasts accelerated their rhythm, sucking the milk with mechanical avidity. Veronica felt a growing pressure in her chest, a liquid warmth spreading within her. Her breasts, heavy and taut, seemed ready to overflow, each suck eliciting an uncontrollable moan.
The tension built within her, a brutal and inevitable wave of pleasure. Her entire body tensed, muscles contracting as she reached the peak of ecstasy. A primal cry escaped her lips, turning into a deep, guttural moan.
— Mmmmooooooohhhhhh!!
At that moment, her breasts released an explosion of milk, the pumps struggling to contain the sudden flow. The center's metrics went wild, recording production levels never reached before. Veronica, now the center's greatest producer, completely surrendered to this new identity, her mind overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure and submission.
Veronica was now overwhelmed by a wave of uncontrollable sensations. The feathers continued their infernal dance on her feet, each touch triggering hysterical laughter and uncontrollable spasms. Her toes, adorned with silver polish, curled and splayed frantically, desperately trying to escape this exquisite torture.
Her wet slit throbbed under the relentless caresses of the feather, each pass over her clitoris sending burning pleasure through her body. She could feel her excitement dripping down her thighs, a testament to her total abandon to these sensations.
The pumps on her breasts continued their rhythmic suction, stimulating abundant milk production. Her breasts, heavy and taut, seemed on the verge of exploding under the pressure, each suck eliciting moans mixed with pleasure and pain.
Veronica, exhausted and overwhelmed by these stimulations, felt a new wave of pleasure building within her, more intense than ever. Her entire body tensed, muscles contracting as she reached another orgasm, even more powerful than the last. A primal cry escaped her lips, turning into a deep, guttural moan.
— MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!!
Her breasts released another explosion of milk, the pumps struggling to contain the abundant flow. The center's metrics went wild again, recording production levels never reached before.
Veronica was exhausted, her body trembling from the relentless stimulations. The feathers continued their delicate dance on her feet, eliciting weak, saccadic laughter, remnants of her depleted energy. Her toes, once agitated, now moved slowly, unable to escape these ceaseless caresses.
Her breasts, still engorged, leaked drops of milk under the pumps, each suck eliciting a soft moan. Her wet slit still throbbed, a testament to the intensity of the previous orgasms.
The scientist observed the scene with undisguised satisfaction. She approached Veronica, a gleam of triumph in her eyes, and murmured softly:
— Congratulations, Veronica. That’s quite a quantity for your first time.
Veronica, through her exhausted laughter, felt a wave of submission wash over her. She had reached a point of no return, her body and mind entirely devoted to this new role.
The scientist straightened up, satisfied with the result, and signaled her team to prepare Veronica for the next phase, aware of having found the ideal producer in her.
The Happy Milk story is a two-part story that has been comissioned. I have the explicit agreement to share the story.
It features intense tickling, and Hucow fetish.
All the characters in this story were created by TheDirtyMonkey who gave his agreement to use his work as a reference.
Veronica Sweet is the mother of Jack and Sarah, and her husband is Henry Sweet. Veronica for reference : https://rule34.xxx/index.php?page😛ost&s=view&id=4268361&tags=veronica_sweet+
The twilight tinted the sky with orange and purple hues as Veronica Sweet settled into her living room with a satisfied sigh. In the soft dimness of the room, only a few subdued lights cast a golden glow over the elegant furniture and tastefully decorated walls. A glass of white wine in one hand and a fashion magazine in the other, she savored this moment of absolute calm.
Her husband, Henry, was still at work, and the children were spending the night at friends' houses. Finally alone.
She sat on her velvet sofa, legs casually crossed, her feet adorned with shiny patent leather pumps that gleamed under the warm light of the living room. Her cream-colored tailored suit hugged her body with natural elegance, hinting at carefully maintained curves. She was a woman who took pleasure in pleasing, always impeccable, every detail of her outfit thought out to affirm her femininity.
She brought the glass to her lips, tasting the Chardonnay with a murmured satisfaction. Then, a sudden noise interrupted her tranquility.
Knock-knock.
A sharp, precise knock at the front door. Veronica frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone.
She set down her glass, instinctively adjusted her skirt, and walked to the door with measured steps. Always elegant, even in the simplest gestures.
She glanced furtively through the peephole... and raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Behind the door stood a man of remarkable presence.
He was tall, slender, with a build that suggested both strength and refinement. His black hair, perfectly slicked back, revealed a face with chiseled features, where every line seemed designed to captivate attention. His anthracite suit, tailor-made, underscored his professional and confident demeanor. But what stood out most was his smile: a precise, devastating smirk, designed to disarm.
When she opened the door, he offered her a penetrating gaze, a glint of amusement shining in his eyes.
— Mrs. Sweet? he asked in a deep, suave voice.
Veronica felt a shiver run down her spine. A warm, well-modulated voice, controlled... The kind of voice that could sell anything to anyone.
— Yes, that's me, she replied with a slight smile, unconsciously playing with a strand of her perfectly smoothed chestnut hair. And you are?
The man slightly opened his jacket, revealing a polished metal badge clipped to his inner pocket.
HUCOW INC. – Specialist in Therapeutic Experimentations
Veronica squinted slightly.
— My name is Bradley White, I work at Hucow Inc. I promise this will only take a few minutes, he continued with an assured smile. I have something unique to offer you... and I think you might enjoy it very much.
His way of speaking was fluid, natural, almost hypnotic. A born salesman.
She crossed her arms under her chest, raising an eyebrow.
— You know, this isn't the best time.
— Oh, I understand completely, he immediately replied with a small, sympathetic pout. But believe me, Mrs. Sweet, what I'm offering is an opportunity you wouldn't want to miss.
He pulled out a slim tablet from the inner pocket of his coat and, with an expert gesture, scrolled through a slideshow of images.
Beautiful women. All smiling, radiant... and relaxed. There was something particular in their expressions. A total bliss.
Veronica blinked, fascinated despite herself.
— What exactly is this? she asked, suddenly more interested.
The salesman's smile widened imperceptibly.
— A revolutionary program designed to offer women absolute relaxation and unparalleled pleasure. A sensory therapy that... changes lives.
Veronica gave a sarcastic smile.
— And what does that involve?
The man slid his finger across the tablet screen, and a new series of images appeared: luxurious facilities, spas, high-end rooms, spaces dedicated to relaxation.
— Hucow Inc. selects a very limited number of candidates to participate in a pilot experiment. An intensive wellness program, fully covered, that guarantees a state of relaxation and fulfillment you've never known.
He paused, tilting his head slightly.
— Everything is free, of course. Accommodation, care, food... You don't have to pay anything. In exchange, you follow our therapy and give us your feedback.
Veronica raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
— A therapy that... maximizes well-being?
— Exactly.
Bradley tapped the screen, displaying video testimonials where women laughed out loud, visibly delighted with their experience. Some were lying on lounge chairs, others seemed in a state of ecstasy, cheeks flushed, lips parted in troubling expressions.
Veronica's gaze slowly slid over the screen. Something in these images captivated her more than she wanted to admit.
The salesman had already sensed her hesitation.
— You seem like a woman who knows what she wants, he said, his voice becoming softer, more enveloping. You like luxury, unique experiences... You deserve the best.
His words hit the mark. Veronica, flattered, placed a hand on her hip, an impish smile playing on her lips.
— Alright, you've piqued my curiosity. But you'll have to be more convincing, Bradley.
Bradley's smile widened. He knew he had already won.
Veronica pretended to think, lightly tapping her perfectly manicured nails against her hip. Bradley, still smiling, waited patiently. He knew what he was doing. He knew he had already won.
She bit her lower lip, unaware. It was tempting.
A luxurious experience, completely free, promising relaxation, pleasure, and an unparalleled sense of well-being...
— Alright. Suppose I accept.
Bradley suppressed a victorious smile and nodded in satisfaction.
— Wise decision.
He pulled out a bound folder, discreetly elegant, with the Hucow Inc. logo embossed in gold letters on the cover. He handed the document to Veronica with studied nonchalance.
— Just sign here.
She took the folder in her hands, her eyes quickly scanning the first pages. Medical jargon. Somewhat obscure administrative terms. Promises of well-being. Nothing alarming. Everything seemed perfectly normal. And yet...
A slight doubt crossed her mind. But before it could settle, Bradley intervened, as if he had anticipated it.
— Of course, this is just a simple confidentiality agreement and a commitment clause for the experiment. You know, like in those high-end care centers where they ask you to sign a form before a massage or a facial.
Veronica gave a sly smile. He knew how to talk.
She looked at him again. His impeccable suit, his confident posture, his piercing eyes. This man knew how to seduce and convince. He mastered the art of persuasion with troubling ease.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then grabbed a pen.
— Alright then. Where do I sign?
Bradley turned slightly, showing her a line at the bottom of the last page, where her name was already pre-filled in elegant letters.
— Right here.
She slid the pen tip across the paper, fluidly tracing her signature. A habit. A signature she hadn't really thought about making.
She hadn't noticed the small italic mention under the line.
Nor the more obscure terms, buried in the contract's legality.
Nor the clause stating that the signatory officially became experimental property of Hucow Inc. for an indefinite period.
Bradley, however, immediately noticed the moment the ink touched the paper. His smile widened imperceptibly.
— Perfect.
He filed the folder away with meticulous efficiency, as if it had all been a mere formality.
Veronica straightened up, instinctively smoothing her skirt.
— So, what are the next steps? she asked with a hint of excitement.
— Everything is already in place.
She raised an eyebrow.
— Already?
— Of course. We take care of everything. You leave tomorrow.
Veronica blinked.
— So soon?
Bradley placed a hand on his heart in an exaggerated theatrical gesture.
— Hucow Inc. never keeps anyone waiting.
She let out a small laugh. The man definitely knew how to sell his program.
The corridor was immaculate, bathed in a soft light that gave the place a strange atmosphere, halfway between a state-of-the-art clinic and an ultra-luxurious wellness center. Each of Veronica's steps echoed softly against the perfectly polished floor, her black stiletto heels clicking with an elegance that came naturally to her.
Everything was so... clean, so sterile, and yet, an indescribable impression began to settle in her mind.
She passed by several closed doors, marked with strange symbols and shiny metal plates engraved with incomprehensible codes. Behind some, she could make out muffled noises, whispered conversations, machines humming.
And then, suddenly...
A sound shattered the hushed silence of the corridor.
A burst of laughter.
Loud, uncontrollable, hysterical laughter. A sound that didn't resemble a simple moment of relaxation.
That laughter...
It was choppy, interspersed with gasps, moans, and stifled pleas. It wasn't someone having fun. It was something else.
Veronica stopped abruptly.
Her heart beat a little faster, her throat tightened slightly.
She turned her head toward a glass wall on her right. And what she saw inside took her breath away.
A woman was trapped in a strange device.
She was strapped into what looked like a sophisticated medical apparatus, but perverse in its design.
Her body was suspended, slightly tilted backward, her wrists held above her head by metal restraints, while her legs were spread and secured in padded supports.
Her face was flooded with tears of laughter, her makeup slightly smeared, revealing an expression of hysteria mixed with uncontrolled pleasure.
Her bare, heavy breasts were compressed by two transparent suction cups, methodically activating in a hypnotic sucking motion, pumping bright white milk that flowed into flexible tubes, converging into a glass reservoir, already half-filled.
But that wasn't what made Veronica shiver.
It was the feathers.
Thin metal rods, mounted on small mechanical arms, danced over the soles of the captive's feet, brushing her taut skin with surgical precision.
Others focused between her open thighs, caressing with exquisite and cruel slowness the ultra-sensitive skin of her intimacy, grazing the swollen bud that betrayed an inevitable and humiliating excitement.
And Veronica heard her voice.
— AAAAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHHA !! N-N-NOOHOHOHOOO! IHIHI CAHAHAHANT!!
The woman's entire body was convulsing with uncontrollable spasms. Her stomach contracted with almost convulsive force, her back arching violently, trying to escape the torment that consumed her without hope of respite.
Her curled toes desperately tried to flee the whirling feathers, but the finely adjusted leather straps held each of her feet firmly, preventing her from closing her legs, contracting her muscles, or even offering minimal resistance.
She laughed loudly, a wild and hysterical laugh, interspersed with gasps, panting, moans, and desperate pleas.
But what troubled Veronica the most...
Was the expression on her face.
An undeniable gleam of pleasure shone in her misty eyes, her entire body vibrating under the assaults of pleasure and tickles.
Her chest rose with each contraction, her sex dripping under the stimulations, and despite her pleas, despite her forced laughter, despite her apparent despair, it was clear that she...
Wanted more.
An icy shiver ran down Veronica's spine.
She instinctively stepped back, her heart beating faster, her breath a little shorter.
— What... is... this...? she whispered, still frozen in shock from what she had just seen.
Dr. Langley, who was watching her with a finely crafted smile, replied without hesitation, her voice calm, composed, almost detached.
— One of our experimental treatments.
Then, seeing that Veronica still hadn't taken her eyes off the fascinating and troubling spectacle playing out behind the glass, she added with a hint of amusement:
— You will understand very soon, Veronica.
Then she resumed walking.
Veronica hesitated for a fraction of a second, as if her instinct was screaming at her to leave, to turn around, to flee this strange place before it was too late.
But...
Curiosity won out.
With one last trembling breath, she tore her gaze away from the captive in the throes of her ecstatic torment and took a step forward.
Then another.
Until she followed.
Without knowing that she had just taken her last step as a free woman.
As Veronica finally turned away to follow Dr. Langley, one last piercing cry echoed behind the glass.
But this time...
It was no longer laughter.
It was a moan, a cry of intense, deep, almost bestial pleasure.
Veronica stopped abruptly, her blood running cold, a chill running down her neck. She recognized that sound. That guttural tremor, that ecstatic distress...
And then, she heard it.
A moo.
A clear, authentic, unambiguous sound.
— MOOOOOUUUHHHHHH~! AAHHHAHAHAHAHHA!!
Veronica shuddered.
She turned her head sharply, her heart pounding as her eyes searched for the source of that unreasonable noise.
She saw the uncontrollable convulsions of the captive's body, her back arching with almost inhuman violence, her sex trembling under the relentless assault of the vibrating feathers.
But above all, she saw her feet.
Her legs stretched to the extreme, her ankles secured, and her white-varnished toes suddenly curled, a powerful spasm making them bend violently toward the ceiling.
And that's when the milk gushed out.
A creamy, thick flow escaped in uncontrollable cascades from the transparent suction cups attached to her breasts, flooding the tubes that eagerly sucked it in, feeding the reservoirs already filled with an opalescent liquid.
The sound of mechanical suction abruptly accelerated, swallowing every drop, every discharge of milk, synchronized with the thunderous orgasm that shook the chained woman.
Veronica felt her stomach knot.
It was too visceral, too primal. A perfect litany of pleasure and submission.
The captive, ecstatic, couldn't stop laughing and mooing at the same time, her voice broken, torn between the delicious torture of tickles and the explosion of her own body.
— MMMOOOOOOHHHHH!!! AAHHHH!! AHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA!!!
Veronica felt her fingers tremble slightly, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her rational mind screamed that this was madness, that this scene defied understanding, that no one should be capable of reacting this way. But... Why couldn't she look away? Why was her own breath becoming shorter?
Dr. Langley, who had been observing her in silence, finally sketched a satisfied smile. She gently tapped Veronica's shoulder, abruptly bringing her back to reality.
— Quite a fascinating spectacle, isn't it? she murmured in a soft, complicit voice.
Veronica opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her gaze fell one last time on the captive, who was now limply slumping in her restraints, her cheeks soaked, her eyes filled with tears and pleasure, her body still trembling with residual spasms. She was still moaning, but weakly, a halting, almost happy exhalation. The pumps gradually slowed, silently sucking the last jets of milk. Only the disordered beating of Veronica's heart remained.
Langley gently tapped her folder.
— It's time to go, Veronica.
And this time... She followed without protest.
Veronica walked more slowly behind Dr. Langley, her mind still saturated with images she couldn't erase. The sound of hysterical laughter, the bestial mooing, the curling of white-varnished toes, the milky surge that had filled the tubes... All of it still echoed within her. Each step resonated like an echo of doubt, a growing hesitation that settled in the pit of her stomach. She felt her throat tighten, a strange oppression overwhelming her.
She had signed without thinking, charmed by the perfect smile of the representative, seduced by the promise of revolutionary well-being. But now she wasn't sure of anything. She opened her mouth, ready to ask a question, ready to express this apprehension that knotted her stomach, but Langley was quicker.
— I can sense that you're nervous, Veronica. Her voice was calm, but almost condescending, as if speaking to a child overwhelmed by the situation.
Veronica slightly lifted her chin, trying to hide her turmoil, but her gaze still avoided the white figure walking in front of her.
— I'm not nervous... she replied too quickly.
Langley smiled. — Oh, but you are. She stopped abruptly, turning gracefully towards Veronica, forcing her to slow down as well. Behind them, the immaculate corridor stretched out, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights that left no shadows, no place to hide. Langley stared at Veronica as if deciphering her, her piercing gaze tracking the slightest crack in her confidence. Then, she displayed a patient, almost maternal smile.
— You're hesitating. It's normal. Many of our new recruits have a similar reaction.
Veronica slightly furrowed her brows.
— I'm not a recruit.
Langley's smile widened.
— Really?
She pulled out a small folder from under her arm, perfectly ordered, with Veronica's name neatly written on the cover. A signature appeared before her eyes, her own. Veronica felt her stomach knot. She already knew. She had signed. But seeing the dried ink on the paper, the official seal of Hucow Inc., the clauses in small print that she hadn't read... It made it all real.
Langley lightly brushed the document with her fingertips, flipping through the pages filled with legal terms with surgical precision.
— Let's see...
She scanned the text with her eyes, then tapped a particular line with the tip of her nail.
— Ah, here. "The participant agrees to fully submit to the experimental protocol of Hucow Inc., waiving any interruption of treatment until the desired results are obtained."
She calmly looked back up at Veronica.
— A very explicit formulation, don't you think?
Veronica felt a shiver run down her spine. She swallowed. She hadn't read that, she hadn't read anything at all.
— I... I didn't think that...
— Oh, don't worry. Langley softly closed the folder, as if closing the discussion. "No one ever does." Then, she smiled more warmly, adopting a light, almost reassuring tone.
— But it's normal. You've just arrived, and all of this can seem... unsettling.
She slid an arm around Veronica's shoulder, a gesture that was both friendly and oppressive.
— That's why we have a very gradual protocol. You will never be forced into anything... Well... Not anymore.
Langley placed a gentle hand on her arm.
— Come, Veronica. Let us show you why you're here.
Veronica had no escape. The signed contract sealed her fate, and despite the adrenaline rush, despite the voice in her mind whispering that she should have read before agreeing, she moved forward. Her heels clicked softly on the sterile floor, each step bringing her closer to the unknown, the irreversible.
The corridors were silent. Only Dr. Langley's fluid voice resonated, interspersed with electronic beeps and metallic clicks in the background.
— We have designed our devices with extreme care, Veronica. Every woman who comes through here discovers something she never suspected within herself.
She opened a door, revealing a room bathed in white light. Veronica's heart raced. In the room, an imposing apparatus stood in the center, made of metal bars, straps, and advanced technological components. It resembled a kind of frame, a structure that seemed to have been designed specifically for a kneeling female form, subjected to her own pleasure.
Veronica's gaze instinctively descended along the restraints, down to the containment areas.
— Please remove your clothes.
The phrase fell like a statement of fact, and Veronica startled.
— What?
Langley raised an eyebrow, as if the question amused her.
— It would be a shame to ruin your outfit. Besides, this treatment is experienced in complete proximity to your body. Believe me, once you're settled, you'll understand why.
A shiver ran down Veronica's spine. It was too much. She opened her mouth, ready to protest... But her gaze fell back on the contract. Langley held out a copy to her, the same page as before, underlining the clauses she had ignored. She was committed until the desired results were obtained. She could refuse, of course, but at what cost? The penalties for breaking the contract were too heavy.
Her trembling fingers slowly undid the buttons of her blouse, revealing her porcelain skin, the fine and delicate lace of her bra. She felt Langley's gaze weighing on her, evaluating every movement, every hesitation. Once in her underwear, she stopped, unconsciously crossing her arms over her chest. Langley remained unmoved, her peaceful smile unchanged.
— Everything.
Veronica paled slightly.
— But—
— Veronica.
A firmer tone. A warning. Her gaze oscillated between the door and the apparatus. Then, with one last hesitant breath, she removed the rest, letting the last barrier of fabric fall. Her nudity made her vulnerable. But it was nothing compared to what was to follow.
— Very well. Get on all fours in the apparatus.
The cold metal against her skin made Veronica shiver as she obeyed. Her thighs slid between the supports, the straps closing effortlessly, capturing her legs from the top of her thighs to her ankles. She felt the mechanism adjust, conforming to her silhouette, holding her firmly in place.
— Good, good... Langley whispered as she observed the device automatically locking around her arms and wrists.
Veronica was completely immobilized. Only her hands and feet remained slightly mobile, her toes varnished with a perfect silver shimmering nervously under the tension.
— You look magnificent, Veronica.
The phrase echoed strangely in her mind. Langley approached, gently brushed her shoulder, then leaned slightly towards her face, like a reassuring friend.
— You're ready for your first session. She pressed a button. A dull beep sounded, and everything began.
Veronica felt a warm breath run along the inside of her thighs. An involuntary shiver ran down her back, an instinctive contraction shook her captive muscles. She heard mechanical arms activating, the subtle friction of synthetic feathers descending towards her exposed skin. The first contact was almost imperceptible, almost gentle... A caress that brushed her back, her ribs, slowly sliding towards her belly... Her breath quickened.
— Mmmmh...
The feathers rushed against her ribs, her hips, the back of her knees, triggering a brutal jolt.
— Hhhnnn– whyhahahaha does this tickle ?!?!
The feathers danced, explored every millimeter of her skin, their trajectory perfectly calculated to stimulate the most reactive nerves. Her body trembled, her chest involuntarily pressing against the support, her silver-varnished toes curled to the extreme. Langley observed with satisfaction.
— Your body is reacting perfectly. That's a very good sign.
But Veronica could no longer hear anything.
The metal creaked slightly under her futile struggle, her back arching in vain. She panted, desperately trying to regain control, but the sensations intensified, gaining in strength.
— I want to cahahahahancel this cont— hehehe — Contract !!!
Her thighs trembled, her belly hollowing out under the spasms.
A mechanical arm descended lower, stopping just under her buttocks, in the hollow of her intimacy. She couldn't see, but she felt. The first brush against her sex was an electric shock.
— NhhhaaaAHH!!
Her voice changed immediately. A mix between laughter and moaning, a sound she no longer controlled.
— Mmmhh...HAHAAHH–AAHHAHAH—AAAOH
Every attempt to bring her knees together failed, the device keeping her legs spread, revealing the intimacy of her exposed sex to the ambient air. Her heavy breasts, freed from any support, hung slightly under their own weight, gravity emphasizing their full and sensitive forms. She felt every beat of her heart pulsing in her belly, in her throat, in her breasts that swayed gently with her increasingly rapid breaths. The clinical lights of the laboratory reflected on her naked body, accentuating the warm hue of her skin, while her toes varnished with a brilliant silver shimmered nervously, as if her instinct already knew what was coming.
— Hhhhmhahaha… Hah…
She bit her lip to stifle her reactions, but she trembled more and more as her intimacy opened to the touch of the feather.
— Let's see what it takes for you to completely crack... Langley murmured, her eyes riveted on the sensors recording every micro-reaction of her body.
— Hhhnnhhh… She twisted slightly, her heavy breasts swaying beneath her, her nipples hardening slightly from the involuntary stimulation. But she held on. Until...
Two stiffer feathers slid along her armpits, tracing methodical back-and-forth movements, slowly rising towards the inside of her immobilized arms.
— Hhhhaha… Ha! HAAAAHHAHAHA!!
The dam broke. A wave of crystalline laughter exploded from her glistening lips, her legs instinctively contracting, her varnished toes curling against nothingness. Langley smiled.
— Finally. Now that the breaking point had been reached, the machines went wild.
The brushes focused on her ribs and hips, the feathers danced madly against the back of her knees, and another mechanical arm slowly approached... Her feet. Her silver toes, usually so graceful, fluttered furiously, anticipating the worst. But she could do nothing. The first caresses on the soles of her feet provoked an immediate reaction.
— NOOOHOHOHOHOOO!!! Her laughter exploded into a shrill cry, her body convulsing against the restraints, but the chair did not budge an inch.
The brushes slowly turned on her delicate arches, the bristles grazing the ultra-reactive skin like thousands of needles of unbearable pleasure. Her toes twitched, opening and closing uncontrollably, as the sensations became too intense.
— HAAAHAHAHHAHAHA NOT HEREHIHIHI !!!
Langley took notes. She studied the reactions, compared the peaks of nervous tension, analyzed where the skin reacted the most. She observed Veronica's progressive evolution: her laughter was changing, mixing with something else. Something softer, deeper.
Her belly quivered differently, her thighs trembling in a more suggestive way... And that was exactly what Langley wanted to see. A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips.
— Perfect. We can move on to the next step.
Just as the brushes reached their peak, scraping the ultra-sensitive arches of her feet, grazing the hollows of her ribs with cruel methodicalness, they stopped abruptly. Veronica panted, her laughter dying in a trembling echo as she found herself suspended in an unreal moment of respite.
Her body trembled slightly, her breath ragged, her back glistening with a thin film of sweat under the intensity of the treatment. She tried to catch her breath, her heavy breasts heaving violently, swaying beneath her, but she barely had time to inhale before the new stimulations began. The only feather still in motion continued to caress Veronica's now wet sex. Her belly contracted violently, her hips quivering under the fleeting contact, a stifled moan escaping her despite herself.
Dr. Langley, seated just out of her field of vision, arched an eyebrow in satisfaction.
— Oh? Might you be more sensitive here, Veronica?
Veronica clenched her teeth, refusing to answer, refusing to admit how much each brush against her skin made her feverish. But the machines knew better. The feathers began to move, five of them tracing arabesques on her exposed breasts, swirling around her hardened nipples, grazing the sensitive curve of her breasts without ever really lingering. And ten more feathers found an entirely different target.
Her silver-varnished toes. The first caress made her immediately flinch. The feathers insinuated themselves between each toe, gently separating the delicate phalanges, grazing those exquisite zones where the skin was so thin, so hypersensitive, that the sensation resonated throughout her body. Her back arched violently. She couldn't escape, couldn't even curl her toes together to protect them.
— Hhhnnhh—AHH!! PAHAHAS THE TOES !! I'm going to kill you HAHAHA !
She burst into uncontrollable laughter, her body convulsing with uncontrolled jerks, her belly contracting under the intensity of the stimulations. Veronica screamed with laughter, her face contorted under the unbearable sensations, but Langley noticed that her thighs were trembling differently... As if her body was reacting in an entirely different way. — Look at that... Targeted stimulation, and your body doesn't know where to turn. The feathers intensified, tracing tighter, more precise circles, especially between her toes where she couldn't control anything.
She screamed, begged, laughed, but her belly warmed. And the feather between her legs, which until then had been playing gently, began to become more intrusive... The moment the feathers intensified their contact, Veronica felt her entire body contract under the assault of stimulations. The tender flesh of her feet, the exacerbated sensitivity of her breasts, and the shadowy hint of pleasure budding between her legs merged into a synchronized torture, cleverly orchestrated to push her to her limits. She could do nothing, only feel and react.
The ten fine and insidious feathers danced with diabolical grace, slowly insinuating themselves between the silver toes, sliding with precision into the slightest interstices of that ultra-sensitive skin, where no barrier could hinder the sensation. Veronica screamed, her broken laughter exploding with shattering violence.
— NOOOOHOOHOHOHOOOOO!! PLEHEHEHEASE!! NOT MY TOOOHOHOHOES!! ANYWHERE BUT HEHEHEHEHERE !
Her toes, shimmering with a metallic gleam, spasmed immediately, violently contracting at the first contact, before retracting, desperately trying to escape the intolerable caresses. But it was to no avail.
The feathers only lingered deeper, brushing against the hypersensitive skin between her knuckles, tickling the tiny folds of flesh that begged to be exploited. Veronica shook her head, her long, disheveled strands sliding in front of her flushed face as her body arched under the assault.
Her feet, pointed towards the sky, arched nervously, her soles twisting, her heels lowering in an attempt to escape the infernal stimulation. But this only exposed the hollows of her arches further, where the feathers mercilessly slipped, gliding under the fleshy pads that quivered with each new caress.
— HAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAA!! NOHOHOHOHO!! OHHHHH GAHAHAHAD!!
The feathers swirled, dancing, tracing hypnotic patterns on the most vulnerable areas of her offered feet. Her toes twitched, closing reflexively whenever a feather penetrated between them, then suddenly opening again, seeking a respite that never came. The silver polish gleamed under the lights, contrasting with the nervous agitation of her toes, which convulsed, stretched, and arched in an involuntary dance of abandon.
Each involuntary reflex betrayed her hypersensitivity, rendering her incapable of containing the intensity of the torment. And Langley took notes. While her feet trembled under the intensity of the torment, five other feathers attacked an entirely different territory. The soft mountains of her chest, sagging and subject to gravity, quivered at the first touch.
The feathers caressed slowly, tracing invisible lines over the taut curves, sketching circles around her already erect nipples.
— Mmmhh—nnnnhhhnnn!!
Her laughter was interspersed with a muffled moan, her mouth opening involuntarily as she struggled to catch her breath. The feathers did not rush; they teased, explored, brushing against the delicate contours of her breasts. They played with the taut skin, grazing it, slipping between the base of her breasts where the skin was thinnest, and returning to the peaks, never directly touching the erect tips... Until they changed tactics.
In a synchronized movement, two feathers came to tease her nipples simultaneously. The sudden contact on these ultra-sensitive areas sent a violent jolt through her.
— AAAHHNN!!
Her fists clenched, her muscles twitched, and her breasts swayed under the assault of the caresses. Each delicate brush sent electric shocks directly into her belly, amplifying the chaos of sensations that already ravaged her feet.
— NOT MY NIHIHIHIHIPPLES!! IHIHIT FEELS WEIRD!
But the feathers continued their work, lightly tickling, flirting with the already overstimulated skin. They lingered, tracing spirals, quivering against the taut flesh, rolling her nipples under the exquisite contact.
— Hhhhnnn… Ahhhhnnn—!!
Her body reacted independently of her will, her back arched, her breasts trembling, her laughter riding waves of increasingly assumed moans. As her body convulsed under successive waves of tickles, another feather advanced in the shadow of her pleasure. The one that worked with infinite patience on the inside of her thighs. Where the heat accumulated.
It descended slowly, tracing delicate arabesques on the quivering skin, brushing against the hollow of her groin, flirting with the forbidden limits. Veronica sobbed a choked laugh, her body now only tensions and shivers.
— Ahhh—nnnhhh!! Hhhnnn… n-not thereeehhh!!
But the insidious feather did not listen. It circled, brushing against the already damp flesh, drawing hypnotic spirals on the taut skin. Then, with exquisite slowness, it finally grazed her swollen clitoris.
— Hhhhnnn—AAAaAAhh!!
The shock was immediate. Her hips jerked forward, her breath exploded, and her entire body reacted with uncontrollable violence. The feathers did not stop. They continued to quiver on her curled toes, caress her taut breasts, and dance between her legs with sadistic precision. Each stimulation added up. Each sensation overlapped. Her body had no control left.
She no longer knew if she was suffering... or reveling in these sensations. Her face glistened with sweat, her lips trembled, her cheeks were scarlet... Everything was ready for the next phase. And Langley had noted it well. The air vibrated around Veronica, charged with tension, electricity, pleasure, and torture.
Her body arched involuntarily, at the mercy of each feather, each tickle, each stimulation that tore uncontrollable waves of laughter and feverish sighs from her. She was on the razor's edge, caught between agony and ecstasy. She laughed until she lost her mind, but her moans of pleasure became deeper, more trembling, more indecent.
Her body, shaken by the torture, sought to surrender to the imminent orgasm, but the tickles held her just at the limit, keeping her prisoner of this infernal spiral. The ten feathers wedged between her silver-polished toes accelerated, subtly changing tactics. They no longer contented themselves with gently brushing; they twisted and caressed every crevice, sinking slightly between her toes, exploring the most sensitive nooks with surgical precision.
— AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!! N-NOOOHHOOHOHOHOHOOO!!
Veronica screamed with laughter, her feet glistening with sweat, her toes clenched, opening and closing in uncontrollable spasms. The soles of her feet quivered, nervously wrinkling, her heels trying to press against the machine to escape the relentless brushing. But there was no escape.
The feathers swirled between her toes, lingered on the tender skin of her arches, brushed against the hypersensitive hollows of her pads, always striking when her body became most vulnerable. Her movements had become erratic, her body trembling under the uninterrupted wave of stimulation. She laughed until she cried, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, but between her hysterical laughter, gasps of pleasure resonated more and more often.
Her brain no longer made the distinction. Her body no longer fought against the ecstasy. It wanted to be overwhelmed. On her breasts, swollen with tension, the feathers redoubled their vicious tenderness. They floated and undulated, brushing against the erect tips, tracing sensual spirals around her nipples without ever touching them directly... Until, suddenly, they changed approach.
The five feathers synchronized, striking her hardened nipples simultaneously, caressing, brushing, stimulating them relentlessly.
— HHHAAAAAHHNNNN!!!
Her head tilted back, her back arched violently, her breasts bouncing under the shockwave. She could no longer breathe; her entire being burned, torn between ultra-sensitivity and electrifying excitement. Her nipples were a pure source of pleasure, each caress sending a jolt into her belly, each brushstroke rekindling the embers that accumulated between her thighs.
Her breath became erratic, her laughter rode her moans, and she knew she couldn't take it anymore. She needed to explode.
While her toes trembled and her breasts quivered, the last feather pursued its cruelest work. It had started by brushing against the inside of her thighs, but now it lingered on her swollen clitoris, already inflamed by the relentless torture. It caressed, traced slow circles, grazing the raw nerves with sadistic delicacy.
— NNNNHHHAAAHH—HAHAHAHAAAAA!! P-PLEEHEHEASE!! I CAHAHAHANN’T!!!
Her body could no longer bear the accumulation. Every nerve burned. Every muscle was tensed to the extreme. And then, suddenly, the feather intensified its rotation, gliding faster, more precisely over her most vulnerable spot. Her hips jerked forward, her wrists and ankles strained against their bonds, her toes splaying to their maximum under the shock.
— AAAaaaaaaaaanh !!
Her belly contracted violently, her chest heaved, her thighs clenched against nothing, desperate to capture the pleasure that was destroying her. Then the orgasm hit her. A gigantic wave that ravaged every nerve, every muscle, leaving her shaken, panting, defeated. Her clitoris pulsed, her belly convulsed, the last caresses amplifying the abyssal fall of pleasure even further.
Her half-open mouth let out a final trembling laugh, a choked moan... then an ecstatic sigh.
Her husband, Henry, was still at work, and the children were spending the night at friends' houses. Finally alone.
She sat on her velvet sofa, legs casually crossed, her feet adorned with shiny patent leather pumps that gleamed under the warm light of the living room. Her cream-colored tailored suit hugged her body with natural elegance, hinting at carefully maintained curves. She was a woman who took pleasure in pleasing, always impeccable, every detail of her outfit thought out to affirm her femininity.
She brought the glass to her lips, tasting the Chardonnay with a murmured satisfaction. Then, a sudden noise interrupted her tranquility.
Knock-knock.
A sharp, precise knock at the front door. Veronica frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone.
She set down her glass, instinctively adjusted her skirt, and walked to the door with measured steps. Always elegant, even in the simplest gestures.
She glanced furtively through the peephole... and raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Behind the door stood a man of remarkable presence.
He was tall, slender, with a build that suggested both strength and refinement. His black hair, perfectly slicked back, revealed a face with chiseled features, where every line seemed designed to captivate attention. His anthracite suit, tailor-made, underscored his professional and confident demeanor. But what stood out most was his smile: a precise, devastating smirk, designed to disarm.
When she opened the door, he offered her a penetrating gaze, a glint of amusement shining in his eyes.
— Mrs. Sweet? he asked in a deep, suave voice.
Veronica felt a shiver run down her spine. A warm, well-modulated voice, controlled... The kind of voice that could sell anything to anyone.
— Yes, that's me, she replied with a slight smile, unconsciously playing with a strand of her perfectly smoothed chestnut hair. And you are?
The man slightly opened his jacket, revealing a polished metal badge clipped to his inner pocket.
HUCOW INC. – Specialist in Therapeutic Experimentations
Veronica squinted slightly.
— My name is Bradley White, I work at Hucow Inc. I promise this will only take a few minutes, he continued with an assured smile. I have something unique to offer you... and I think you might enjoy it very much.
His way of speaking was fluid, natural, almost hypnotic. A born salesman.
She crossed her arms under her chest, raising an eyebrow.
— You know, this isn't the best time.
— Oh, I understand completely, he immediately replied with a small, sympathetic pout. But believe me, Mrs. Sweet, what I'm offering is an opportunity you wouldn't want to miss.
He pulled out a slim tablet from the inner pocket of his coat and, with an expert gesture, scrolled through a slideshow of images.
Beautiful women. All smiling, radiant... and relaxed. There was something particular in their expressions. A total bliss.
Veronica blinked, fascinated despite herself.
— What exactly is this? she asked, suddenly more interested.
The salesman's smile widened imperceptibly.
— A revolutionary program designed to offer women absolute relaxation and unparalleled pleasure. A sensory therapy that... changes lives.
Veronica gave a sarcastic smile.
— And what does that involve?
The man slid his finger across the tablet screen, and a new series of images appeared: luxurious facilities, spas, high-end rooms, spaces dedicated to relaxation.
— Hucow Inc. selects a very limited number of candidates to participate in a pilot experiment. An intensive wellness program, fully covered, that guarantees a state of relaxation and fulfillment you've never known.
He paused, tilting his head slightly.
— Everything is free, of course. Accommodation, care, food... You don't have to pay anything. In exchange, you follow our therapy and give us your feedback.
Veronica raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
— A therapy that... maximizes well-being?
— Exactly.
Bradley tapped the screen, displaying video testimonials where women laughed out loud, visibly delighted with their experience. Some were lying on lounge chairs, others seemed in a state of ecstasy, cheeks flushed, lips parted in troubling expressions.
Veronica's gaze slowly slid over the screen. Something in these images captivated her more than she wanted to admit.
The salesman had already sensed her hesitation.
— You seem like a woman who knows what she wants, he said, his voice becoming softer, more enveloping. You like luxury, unique experiences... You deserve the best.
His words hit the mark. Veronica, flattered, placed a hand on her hip, an impish smile playing on her lips.
— Alright, you've piqued my curiosity. But you'll have to be more convincing, Bradley.
Bradley's smile widened. He knew he had already won.
Veronica pretended to think, lightly tapping her perfectly manicured nails against her hip. Bradley, still smiling, waited patiently. He knew what he was doing. He knew he had already won.
She bit her lower lip, unaware. It was tempting.
A luxurious experience, completely free, promising relaxation, pleasure, and an unparalleled sense of well-being...
— Alright. Suppose I accept.
Bradley suppressed a victorious smile and nodded in satisfaction.
— Wise decision.
He pulled out a bound folder, discreetly elegant, with the Hucow Inc. logo embossed in gold letters on the cover. He handed the document to Veronica with studied nonchalance.
— Just sign here.
She took the folder in her hands, her eyes quickly scanning the first pages. Medical jargon. Somewhat obscure administrative terms. Promises of well-being. Nothing alarming. Everything seemed perfectly normal. And yet...
A slight doubt crossed her mind. But before it could settle, Bradley intervened, as if he had anticipated it.
— Of course, this is just a simple confidentiality agreement and a commitment clause for the experiment. You know, like in those high-end care centers where they ask you to sign a form before a massage or a facial.
Veronica gave a sly smile. He knew how to talk.
She looked at him again. His impeccable suit, his confident posture, his piercing eyes. This man knew how to seduce and convince. He mastered the art of persuasion with troubling ease.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then grabbed a pen.
— Alright then. Where do I sign?
Bradley turned slightly, showing her a line at the bottom of the last page, where her name was already pre-filled in elegant letters.
— Right here.
She slid the pen tip across the paper, fluidly tracing her signature. A habit. A signature she hadn't really thought about making.
She hadn't noticed the small italic mention under the line.
Nor the more obscure terms, buried in the contract's legality.
Nor the clause stating that the signatory officially became experimental property of Hucow Inc. for an indefinite period.
Bradley, however, immediately noticed the moment the ink touched the paper. His smile widened imperceptibly.
— Perfect.
He filed the folder away with meticulous efficiency, as if it had all been a mere formality.
Veronica straightened up, instinctively smoothing her skirt.
— So, what are the next steps? she asked with a hint of excitement.
— Everything is already in place.
She raised an eyebrow.
— Already?
— Of course. We take care of everything. You leave tomorrow.
Veronica blinked.
— So soon?
Bradley placed a hand on his heart in an exaggerated theatrical gesture.
— Hucow Inc. never keeps anyone waiting.
She let out a small laugh. The man definitely knew how to sell his program.
The corridor was immaculate, bathed in a soft light that gave the place a strange atmosphere, halfway between a state-of-the-art clinic and an ultra-luxurious wellness center. Each of Veronica's steps echoed softly against the perfectly polished floor, her black stiletto heels clicking with an elegance that came naturally to her.
Everything was so... clean, so sterile, and yet, an indescribable impression began to settle in her mind.
She passed by several closed doors, marked with strange symbols and shiny metal plates engraved with incomprehensible codes. Behind some, she could make out muffled noises, whispered conversations, machines humming.
And then, suddenly...
A sound shattered the hushed silence of the corridor.
A burst of laughter.
Loud, uncontrollable, hysterical laughter. A sound that didn't resemble a simple moment of relaxation.
That laughter...
It was choppy, interspersed with gasps, moans, and stifled pleas. It wasn't someone having fun. It was something else.
Veronica stopped abruptly.
Her heart beat a little faster, her throat tightened slightly.
She turned her head toward a glass wall on her right. And what she saw inside took her breath away.
A woman was trapped in a strange device.
She was strapped into what looked like a sophisticated medical apparatus, but perverse in its design.
Her body was suspended, slightly tilted backward, her wrists held above her head by metal restraints, while her legs were spread and secured in padded supports.
Her face was flooded with tears of laughter, her makeup slightly smeared, revealing an expression of hysteria mixed with uncontrolled pleasure.
Her bare, heavy breasts were compressed by two transparent suction cups, methodically activating in a hypnotic sucking motion, pumping bright white milk that flowed into flexible tubes, converging into a glass reservoir, already half-filled.
But that wasn't what made Veronica shiver.
It was the feathers.
Thin metal rods, mounted on small mechanical arms, danced over the soles of the captive's feet, brushing her taut skin with surgical precision.
Others focused between her open thighs, caressing with exquisite and cruel slowness the ultra-sensitive skin of her intimacy, grazing the swollen bud that betrayed an inevitable and humiliating excitement.
And Veronica heard her voice.
— AAAAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHHA !! N-N-NOOHOHOHOOO! IHIHI CAHAHAHANT!!
The woman's entire body was convulsing with uncontrollable spasms. Her stomach contracted with almost convulsive force, her back arching violently, trying to escape the torment that consumed her without hope of respite.
Her curled toes desperately tried to flee the whirling feathers, but the finely adjusted leather straps held each of her feet firmly, preventing her from closing her legs, contracting her muscles, or even offering minimal resistance.
She laughed loudly, a wild and hysterical laugh, interspersed with gasps, panting, moans, and desperate pleas.
But what troubled Veronica the most...
Was the expression on her face.
An undeniable gleam of pleasure shone in her misty eyes, her entire body vibrating under the assaults of pleasure and tickles.
Her chest rose with each contraction, her sex dripping under the stimulations, and despite her pleas, despite her forced laughter, despite her apparent despair, it was clear that she...
Wanted more.
An icy shiver ran down Veronica's spine.
She instinctively stepped back, her heart beating faster, her breath a little shorter.
— What... is... this...? she whispered, still frozen in shock from what she had just seen.
Dr. Langley, who was watching her with a finely crafted smile, replied without hesitation, her voice calm, composed, almost detached.
— One of our experimental treatments.
Then, seeing that Veronica still hadn't taken her eyes off the fascinating and troubling spectacle playing out behind the glass, she added with a hint of amusement:
— You will understand very soon, Veronica.
Then she resumed walking.
Veronica hesitated for a fraction of a second, as if her instinct was screaming at her to leave, to turn around, to flee this strange place before it was too late.
But...
Curiosity won out.
With one last trembling breath, she tore her gaze away from the captive in the throes of her ecstatic torment and took a step forward.
Then another.
Until she followed.
Without knowing that she had just taken her last step as a free woman.
As Veronica finally turned away to follow Dr. Langley, one last piercing cry echoed behind the glass.
But this time...
It was no longer laughter.
It was a moan, a cry of intense, deep, almost bestial pleasure.
Veronica stopped abruptly, her blood running cold, a chill running down her neck. She recognized that sound. That guttural tremor, that ecstatic distress...
And then, she heard it.
A moo.
A clear, authentic, unambiguous sound.
— MOOOOOUUUHHHHHH~! AAHHHAHAHAHAHHA!!
Veronica shuddered.
She turned her head sharply, her heart pounding as her eyes searched for the source of that unreasonable noise.
She saw the uncontrollable convulsions of the captive's body, her back arching with almost inhuman violence, her sex trembling under the relentless assault of the vibrating feathers.
But above all, she saw her feet.
Her legs stretched to the extreme, her ankles secured, and her white-varnished toes suddenly curled, a powerful spasm making them bend violently toward the ceiling.
And that's when the milk gushed out.
A creamy, thick flow escaped in uncontrollable cascades from the transparent suction cups attached to her breasts, flooding the tubes that eagerly sucked it in, feeding the reservoirs already filled with an opalescent liquid.
The sound of mechanical suction abruptly accelerated, swallowing every drop, every discharge of milk, synchronized with the thunderous orgasm that shook the chained woman.
Veronica felt her stomach knot.
It was too visceral, too primal. A perfect litany of pleasure and submission.
The captive, ecstatic, couldn't stop laughing and mooing at the same time, her voice broken, torn between the delicious torture of tickles and the explosion of her own body.
— MMMOOOOOOHHHHH!!! AAHHHH!! AHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA!!!
Veronica felt her fingers tremble slightly, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her rational mind screamed that this was madness, that this scene defied understanding, that no one should be capable of reacting this way. But... Why couldn't she look away? Why was her own breath becoming shorter?
Dr. Langley, who had been observing her in silence, finally sketched a satisfied smile. She gently tapped Veronica's shoulder, abruptly bringing her back to reality.
— Quite a fascinating spectacle, isn't it? she murmured in a soft, complicit voice.
Veronica opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her gaze fell one last time on the captive, who was now limply slumping in her restraints, her cheeks soaked, her eyes filled with tears and pleasure, her body still trembling with residual spasms. She was still moaning, but weakly, a halting, almost happy exhalation. The pumps gradually slowed, silently sucking the last jets of milk. Only the disordered beating of Veronica's heart remained.
Langley gently tapped her folder.
— It's time to go, Veronica.
And this time... She followed without protest.
Veronica walked more slowly behind Dr. Langley, her mind still saturated with images she couldn't erase. The sound of hysterical laughter, the bestial mooing, the curling of white-varnished toes, the milky surge that had filled the tubes... All of it still echoed within her. Each step resonated like an echo of doubt, a growing hesitation that settled in the pit of her stomach. She felt her throat tighten, a strange oppression overwhelming her.
She had signed without thinking, charmed by the perfect smile of the representative, seduced by the promise of revolutionary well-being. But now she wasn't sure of anything. She opened her mouth, ready to ask a question, ready to express this apprehension that knotted her stomach, but Langley was quicker.
— I can sense that you're nervous, Veronica. Her voice was calm, but almost condescending, as if speaking to a child overwhelmed by the situation.
Veronica slightly lifted her chin, trying to hide her turmoil, but her gaze still avoided the white figure walking in front of her.
— I'm not nervous... she replied too quickly.
Langley smiled. — Oh, but you are. She stopped abruptly, turning gracefully towards Veronica, forcing her to slow down as well. Behind them, the immaculate corridor stretched out, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights that left no shadows, no place to hide. Langley stared at Veronica as if deciphering her, her piercing gaze tracking the slightest crack in her confidence. Then, she displayed a patient, almost maternal smile.
— You're hesitating. It's normal. Many of our new recruits have a similar reaction.
Veronica slightly furrowed her brows.
— I'm not a recruit.
Langley's smile widened.
— Really?
She pulled out a small folder from under her arm, perfectly ordered, with Veronica's name neatly written on the cover. A signature appeared before her eyes, her own. Veronica felt her stomach knot. She already knew. She had signed. But seeing the dried ink on the paper, the official seal of Hucow Inc., the clauses in small print that she hadn't read... It made it all real.
Langley lightly brushed the document with her fingertips, flipping through the pages filled with legal terms with surgical precision.
— Let's see...
She scanned the text with her eyes, then tapped a particular line with the tip of her nail.
— Ah, here. "The participant agrees to fully submit to the experimental protocol of Hucow Inc., waiving any interruption of treatment until the desired results are obtained."
She calmly looked back up at Veronica.
— A very explicit formulation, don't you think?
Veronica felt a shiver run down her spine. She swallowed. She hadn't read that, she hadn't read anything at all.
— I... I didn't think that...
— Oh, don't worry. Langley softly closed the folder, as if closing the discussion. "No one ever does." Then, she smiled more warmly, adopting a light, almost reassuring tone.
— But it's normal. You've just arrived, and all of this can seem... unsettling.
She slid an arm around Veronica's shoulder, a gesture that was both friendly and oppressive.
— That's why we have a very gradual protocol. You will never be forced into anything... Well... Not anymore.
Langley placed a gentle hand on her arm.
— Come, Veronica. Let us show you why you're here.
Veronica had no escape. The signed contract sealed her fate, and despite the adrenaline rush, despite the voice in her mind whispering that she should have read before agreeing, she moved forward. Her heels clicked softly on the sterile floor, each step bringing her closer to the unknown, the irreversible.
The corridors were silent. Only Dr. Langley's fluid voice resonated, interspersed with electronic beeps and metallic clicks in the background.
— We have designed our devices with extreme care, Veronica. Every woman who comes through here discovers something she never suspected within herself.
She opened a door, revealing a room bathed in white light. Veronica's heart raced. In the room, an imposing apparatus stood in the center, made of metal bars, straps, and advanced technological components. It resembled a kind of frame, a structure that seemed to have been designed specifically for a kneeling female form, subjected to her own pleasure.
Veronica's gaze instinctively descended along the restraints, down to the containment areas.
— Please remove your clothes.
The phrase fell like a statement of fact, and Veronica startled.
— What?
Langley raised an eyebrow, as if the question amused her.
— It would be a shame to ruin your outfit. Besides, this treatment is experienced in complete proximity to your body. Believe me, once you're settled, you'll understand why.
A shiver ran down Veronica's spine. It was too much. She opened her mouth, ready to protest... But her gaze fell back on the contract. Langley held out a copy to her, the same page as before, underlining the clauses she had ignored. She was committed until the desired results were obtained. She could refuse, of course, but at what cost? The penalties for breaking the contract were too heavy.
Her trembling fingers slowly undid the buttons of her blouse, revealing her porcelain skin, the fine and delicate lace of her bra. She felt Langley's gaze weighing on her, evaluating every movement, every hesitation. Once in her underwear, she stopped, unconsciously crossing her arms over her chest. Langley remained unmoved, her peaceful smile unchanged.
— Everything.
Veronica paled slightly.
— But—
— Veronica.
A firmer tone. A warning. Her gaze oscillated between the door and the apparatus. Then, with one last hesitant breath, she removed the rest, letting the last barrier of fabric fall. Her nudity made her vulnerable. But it was nothing compared to what was to follow.
— Very well. Get on all fours in the apparatus.
The cold metal against her skin made Veronica shiver as she obeyed. Her thighs slid between the supports, the straps closing effortlessly, capturing her legs from the top of her thighs to her ankles. She felt the mechanism adjust, conforming to her silhouette, holding her firmly in place.
— Good, good... Langley whispered as she observed the device automatically locking around her arms and wrists.
Veronica was completely immobilized. Only her hands and feet remained slightly mobile, her toes varnished with a perfect silver shimmering nervously under the tension.
— You look magnificent, Veronica.
The phrase echoed strangely in her mind. Langley approached, gently brushed her shoulder, then leaned slightly towards her face, like a reassuring friend.
— You're ready for your first session. She pressed a button. A dull beep sounded, and everything began.
Veronica felt a warm breath run along the inside of her thighs. An involuntary shiver ran down her back, an instinctive contraction shook her captive muscles. She heard mechanical arms activating, the subtle friction of synthetic feathers descending towards her exposed skin. The first contact was almost imperceptible, almost gentle... A caress that brushed her back, her ribs, slowly sliding towards her belly... Her breath quickened.
— Mmmmh...
The feathers rushed against her ribs, her hips, the back of her knees, triggering a brutal jolt.
— Hhhnnn– whyhahahaha does this tickle ?!?!
The feathers danced, explored every millimeter of her skin, their trajectory perfectly calculated to stimulate the most reactive nerves. Her body trembled, her chest involuntarily pressing against the support, her silver-varnished toes curled to the extreme. Langley observed with satisfaction.
— Your body is reacting perfectly. That's a very good sign.
But Veronica could no longer hear anything.
The metal creaked slightly under her futile struggle, her back arching in vain. She panted, desperately trying to regain control, but the sensations intensified, gaining in strength.
— I want to cahahahahancel this cont— hehehe — Contract !!!
Her thighs trembled, her belly hollowing out under the spasms.
A mechanical arm descended lower, stopping just under her buttocks, in the hollow of her intimacy. She couldn't see, but she felt. The first brush against her sex was an electric shock.
— NhhhaaaAHH!!
Her voice changed immediately. A mix between laughter and moaning, a sound she no longer controlled.
— Mmmhh...HAHAAHH–AAHHAHAH—AAAOH
Every attempt to bring her knees together failed, the device keeping her legs spread, revealing the intimacy of her exposed sex to the ambient air. Her heavy breasts, freed from any support, hung slightly under their own weight, gravity emphasizing their full and sensitive forms. She felt every beat of her heart pulsing in her belly, in her throat, in her breasts that swayed gently with her increasingly rapid breaths. The clinical lights of the laboratory reflected on her naked body, accentuating the warm hue of her skin, while her toes varnished with a brilliant silver shimmered nervously, as if her instinct already knew what was coming.
— Hhhhmhahaha… Hah…
She bit her lip to stifle her reactions, but she trembled more and more as her intimacy opened to the touch of the feather.
— Let's see what it takes for you to completely crack... Langley murmured, her eyes riveted on the sensors recording every micro-reaction of her body.
— Hhhnnhhh… She twisted slightly, her heavy breasts swaying beneath her, her nipples hardening slightly from the involuntary stimulation. But she held on. Until...
Two stiffer feathers slid along her armpits, tracing methodical back-and-forth movements, slowly rising towards the inside of her immobilized arms.
— Hhhhaha… Ha! HAAAAHHAHAHA!!
The dam broke. A wave of crystalline laughter exploded from her glistening lips, her legs instinctively contracting, her varnished toes curling against nothingness. Langley smiled.
— Finally. Now that the breaking point had been reached, the machines went wild.
The brushes focused on her ribs and hips, the feathers danced madly against the back of her knees, and another mechanical arm slowly approached... Her feet. Her silver toes, usually so graceful, fluttered furiously, anticipating the worst. But she could do nothing. The first caresses on the soles of her feet provoked an immediate reaction.
— NOOOHOHOHOHOOO!!! Her laughter exploded into a shrill cry, her body convulsing against the restraints, but the chair did not budge an inch.
The brushes slowly turned on her delicate arches, the bristles grazing the ultra-reactive skin like thousands of needles of unbearable pleasure. Her toes twitched, opening and closing uncontrollably, as the sensations became too intense.
— HAAAHAHAHHAHAHA NOT HEREHIHIHI !!!
Langley took notes. She studied the reactions, compared the peaks of nervous tension, analyzed where the skin reacted the most. She observed Veronica's progressive evolution: her laughter was changing, mixing with something else. Something softer, deeper.
Her belly quivered differently, her thighs trembling in a more suggestive way... And that was exactly what Langley wanted to see. A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips.
— Perfect. We can move on to the next step.
Just as the brushes reached their peak, scraping the ultra-sensitive arches of her feet, grazing the hollows of her ribs with cruel methodicalness, they stopped abruptly. Veronica panted, her laughter dying in a trembling echo as she found herself suspended in an unreal moment of respite.
Her body trembled slightly, her breath ragged, her back glistening with a thin film of sweat under the intensity of the treatment. She tried to catch her breath, her heavy breasts heaving violently, swaying beneath her, but she barely had time to inhale before the new stimulations began. The only feather still in motion continued to caress Veronica's now wet sex. Her belly contracted violently, her hips quivering under the fleeting contact, a stifled moan escaping her despite herself.
Dr. Langley, seated just out of her field of vision, arched an eyebrow in satisfaction.
— Oh? Might you be more sensitive here, Veronica?
Veronica clenched her teeth, refusing to answer, refusing to admit how much each brush against her skin made her feverish. But the machines knew better. The feathers began to move, five of them tracing arabesques on her exposed breasts, swirling around her hardened nipples, grazing the sensitive curve of her breasts without ever really lingering. And ten more feathers found an entirely different target.
Her silver-varnished toes. The first caress made her immediately flinch. The feathers insinuated themselves between each toe, gently separating the delicate phalanges, grazing those exquisite zones where the skin was so thin, so hypersensitive, that the sensation resonated throughout her body. Her back arched violently. She couldn't escape, couldn't even curl her toes together to protect them.
— Hhhnnhh—AHH!! PAHAHAS THE TOES !! I'm going to kill you HAHAHA !
She burst into uncontrollable laughter, her body convulsing with uncontrolled jerks, her belly contracting under the intensity of the stimulations. Veronica screamed with laughter, her face contorted under the unbearable sensations, but Langley noticed that her thighs were trembling differently... As if her body was reacting in an entirely different way. — Look at that... Targeted stimulation, and your body doesn't know where to turn. The feathers intensified, tracing tighter, more precise circles, especially between her toes where she couldn't control anything.
She screamed, begged, laughed, but her belly warmed. And the feather between her legs, which until then had been playing gently, began to become more intrusive... The moment the feathers intensified their contact, Veronica felt her entire body contract under the assault of stimulations. The tender flesh of her feet, the exacerbated sensitivity of her breasts, and the shadowy hint of pleasure budding between her legs merged into a synchronized torture, cleverly orchestrated to push her to her limits. She could do nothing, only feel and react.
The ten fine and insidious feathers danced with diabolical grace, slowly insinuating themselves between the silver toes, sliding with precision into the slightest interstices of that ultra-sensitive skin, where no barrier could hinder the sensation. Veronica screamed, her broken laughter exploding with shattering violence.
— NOOOOHOOHOHOHOOOOO!! PLEHEHEHEASE!! NOT MY TOOOHOHOHOES!! ANYWHERE BUT HEHEHEHEHERE !
Her toes, shimmering with a metallic gleam, spasmed immediately, violently contracting at the first contact, before retracting, desperately trying to escape the intolerable caresses. But it was to no avail.
The feathers only lingered deeper, brushing against the hypersensitive skin between her knuckles, tickling the tiny folds of flesh that begged to be exploited. Veronica shook her head, her long, disheveled strands sliding in front of her flushed face as her body arched under the assault.
Her feet, pointed towards the sky, arched nervously, her soles twisting, her heels lowering in an attempt to escape the infernal stimulation. But this only exposed the hollows of her arches further, where the feathers mercilessly slipped, gliding under the fleshy pads that quivered with each new caress.
— HAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAA!! NOHOHOHOHO!! OHHHHH GAHAHAHAD!!
The feathers swirled, dancing, tracing hypnotic patterns on the most vulnerable areas of her offered feet. Her toes twitched, closing reflexively whenever a feather penetrated between them, then suddenly opening again, seeking a respite that never came. The silver polish gleamed under the lights, contrasting with the nervous agitation of her toes, which convulsed, stretched, and arched in an involuntary dance of abandon.
Each involuntary reflex betrayed her hypersensitivity, rendering her incapable of containing the intensity of the torment. And Langley took notes. While her feet trembled under the intensity of the torment, five other feathers attacked an entirely different territory. The soft mountains of her chest, sagging and subject to gravity, quivered at the first touch.
The feathers caressed slowly, tracing invisible lines over the taut curves, sketching circles around her already erect nipples.
— Mmmhh—nnnnhhhnnn!!
Her laughter was interspersed with a muffled moan, her mouth opening involuntarily as she struggled to catch her breath. The feathers did not rush; they teased, explored, brushing against the delicate contours of her breasts. They played with the taut skin, grazing it, slipping between the base of her breasts where the skin was thinnest, and returning to the peaks, never directly touching the erect tips... Until they changed tactics.
In a synchronized movement, two feathers came to tease her nipples simultaneously. The sudden contact on these ultra-sensitive areas sent a violent jolt through her.
— AAAHHNN!!
Her fists clenched, her muscles twitched, and her breasts swayed under the assault of the caresses. Each delicate brush sent electric shocks directly into her belly, amplifying the chaos of sensations that already ravaged her feet.
— NOT MY NIHIHIHIHIPPLES!! IHIHIT FEELS WEIRD!
But the feathers continued their work, lightly tickling, flirting with the already overstimulated skin. They lingered, tracing spirals, quivering against the taut flesh, rolling her nipples under the exquisite contact.
— Hhhhnnn… Ahhhhnnn—!!
Her body reacted independently of her will, her back arched, her breasts trembling, her laughter riding waves of increasingly assumed moans. As her body convulsed under successive waves of tickles, another feather advanced in the shadow of her pleasure. The one that worked with infinite patience on the inside of her thighs. Where the heat accumulated.
It descended slowly, tracing delicate arabesques on the quivering skin, brushing against the hollow of her groin, flirting with the forbidden limits. Veronica sobbed a choked laugh, her body now only tensions and shivers.
— Ahhh—nnnhhh!! Hhhnnn… n-not thereeehhh!!
But the insidious feather did not listen. It circled, brushing against the already damp flesh, drawing hypnotic spirals on the taut skin. Then, with exquisite slowness, it finally grazed her swollen clitoris.
— Hhhhnnn—AAAaAAhh!!
The shock was immediate. Her hips jerked forward, her breath exploded, and her entire body reacted with uncontrollable violence. The feathers did not stop. They continued to quiver on her curled toes, caress her taut breasts, and dance between her legs with sadistic precision. Each stimulation added up. Each sensation overlapped. Her body had no control left.
She no longer knew if she was suffering... or reveling in these sensations. Her face glistened with sweat, her lips trembled, her cheeks were scarlet... Everything was ready for the next phase. And Langley had noted it well. The air vibrated around Veronica, charged with tension, electricity, pleasure, and torture.
Her body arched involuntarily, at the mercy of each feather, each tickle, each stimulation that tore uncontrollable waves of laughter and feverish sighs from her. She was on the razor's edge, caught between agony and ecstasy. She laughed until she lost her mind, but her moans of pleasure became deeper, more trembling, more indecent.
Her body, shaken by the torture, sought to surrender to the imminent orgasm, but the tickles held her just at the limit, keeping her prisoner of this infernal spiral. The ten feathers wedged between her silver-polished toes accelerated, subtly changing tactics. They no longer contented themselves with gently brushing; they twisted and caressed every crevice, sinking slightly between her toes, exploring the most sensitive nooks with surgical precision.
— AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!! N-NOOOHHOOHOHOHOHOOO!!
Veronica screamed with laughter, her feet glistening with sweat, her toes clenched, opening and closing in uncontrollable spasms. The soles of her feet quivered, nervously wrinkling, her heels trying to press against the machine to escape the relentless brushing. But there was no escape.
The feathers swirled between her toes, lingered on the tender skin of her arches, brushed against the hypersensitive hollows of her pads, always striking when her body became most vulnerable. Her movements had become erratic, her body trembling under the uninterrupted wave of stimulation. She laughed until she cried, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, but between her hysterical laughter, gasps of pleasure resonated more and more often.
Her brain no longer made the distinction. Her body no longer fought against the ecstasy. It wanted to be overwhelmed. On her breasts, swollen with tension, the feathers redoubled their vicious tenderness. They floated and undulated, brushing against the erect tips, tracing sensual spirals around her nipples without ever touching them directly... Until, suddenly, they changed approach.
The five feathers synchronized, striking her hardened nipples simultaneously, caressing, brushing, stimulating them relentlessly.
— HHHAAAAAHHNNNN!!!
Her head tilted back, her back arched violently, her breasts bouncing under the shockwave. She could no longer breathe; her entire being burned, torn between ultra-sensitivity and electrifying excitement. Her nipples were a pure source of pleasure, each caress sending a jolt into her belly, each brushstroke rekindling the embers that accumulated between her thighs.
Her breath became erratic, her laughter rode her moans, and she knew she couldn't take it anymore. She needed to explode.
While her toes trembled and her breasts quivered, the last feather pursued its cruelest work. It had started by brushing against the inside of her thighs, but now it lingered on her swollen clitoris, already inflamed by the relentless torture. It caressed, traced slow circles, grazing the raw nerves with sadistic delicacy.
— NNNNHHHAAAHH—HAHAHAHAAAAA!! P-PLEEHEHEASE!! I CAHAHAHANN’T!!!
Her body could no longer bear the accumulation. Every nerve burned. Every muscle was tensed to the extreme. And then, suddenly, the feather intensified its rotation, gliding faster, more precisely over her most vulnerable spot. Her hips jerked forward, her wrists and ankles strained against their bonds, her toes splaying to their maximum under the shock.
— AAAaaaaaaaaanh !!
Her belly contracted violently, her chest heaved, her thighs clenched against nothing, desperate to capture the pleasure that was destroying her. Then the orgasm hit her. A gigantic wave that ravaged every nerve, every muscle, leaving her shaken, panting, defeated. Her clitoris pulsed, her belly convulsed, the last caresses amplifying the abyssal fall of pleasure even further.
Her half-open mouth let out a final trembling laugh, a choked moan... then an ecstatic sigh.
Time had lost all meaning. Two hours. Two long hours of being overwhelmed by an unceasing flood of laughter and pleasure. Two hours without respite, without escape, where her body had been forced to accept this improbable mix of suffering and enjoyment. And now... She was there.
Still on all fours, her body glistening with sweat, trembling with residual spasms, her heavy chest swaying under the uncontrolled jerks of her ragged breath. Her half-open mouth let out a warm breath, a mix between a broken laugh and an ecstatic moan. Her face was ravaged by the ordeal. The once-impeccable lipstick had smeared, her lashes heavy with melted mascara, tracing black streaks down her flushed cheeks.
Her tear-filled eyes were half-closed, lost between reality and total submission to the experience. Her feet remained offered to the sky, her toes still exposed to the relentless cruelty of the feathers. Ten. Ten little silky torturers, still there, still active, still fluttering between her polished toes. The soles of her feet still quivered, wrinkling, relaxing, wrinkling again under each precise brush, each targeted caress on her most sensitive spots.
Her body no longer reacted as violently as before... But her toes still trembled, opening and closing nervously, testifying to the extreme sensitivity that persisted despite the exhaustion. Each whirlwind of feathers between her toes sent new shivers running up her legs to her belly, still knotted from the previous orgasms. And yet... She was still laughing. A softer, lower, more lascivious laugh... But a laugh nonetheless.
— Haha... hehehe maha poor feehihihit...
On her bare chest, offered to the cold air, the feathers also continued their hypnotic dance. They traversed her curves, followed the tender line of her breasts, brushed against her nipples still erect with excitement. She panted, trembled with each undulation on her swollen nipples, already ultra-sensitive after so much stimulation. She no longer had the strength to struggle; she submitted, totally abandoned.
Her back arched despite herself, her mouth letting out trembling sighs, interspersed with brief, uncontrolled bursts of laughter. She no longer thought about anything. Only the feathers, that diabolically soft caress that denied her all rest. She was a stormy sea, rocked by the storm of sensations, tossed between enjoyment and extreme sensitivity.
And then... There was that one. The cruelest. The most vicious. The most unbearable. The one that reigned between her thighs, brushing against her soaked intimacy with unbearable delicacy. It did not rub, did not press, did not penetrate. It just glided there, grazing the most sensitive flesh, caressing the swollen lips, hovering over her trembling clitoris without ever stopping.
— Nnnnnhhhh… Hahh… Hahh… Hahh…
Her breath broke into jagged moans, her belly contracted, her body begging for a relief she never obtained. She was there, perpetually on the verge of collapsing, but the feathers kept her suspended in the agony of pleasure, forcing her to endure the inexorable rise of desire again and again without ever allowing her to fully tip over. Her neck tensed. Her fingers gripped the armrests.
Her feet clenched more violently, her toes splaying to their maximum, then curling nervously. Her back arched more strongly... Her thighs clenched... Her mouth opened... And in a broken sigh, a final uncontrolled moan, she exploded in a last trembling orgasm, her body traversed by an uncontrollable shiver. Her muscles contracted in a total spasm, her belly hollowed out, her breasts quivered under the shockwave.
Her feet twitched, shaken by uncontrolled jerks, the feathers still clinging to her shivering toes. She no longer had the breath for it. Only a trembling, fragile, exhausted... but fulfilled laugh. Veronica no longer laughed. She was exhausted, trembling, breathless, her muscles still shaken by involuntary spasms.
Three hours of tickling, three hours of successive orgasms, and yet, the feathers continued their infernal dance on her bare skin. She no longer controlled anything. Her makeup had run down her face, black streaks underlining her cheeks flushed with effort. Her hair was disheveled, strands sticking to her sweat-beaded forehead. She was undone, fragile, and yet still vulnerable, tied on all fours, her legs immobilized from thighs to ankles, her arms locked up to the wrists.
— « Hhhhaa… nhhh… ple… please… »
Her voice was broken, her breath trembling, her words barely audible. She no longer laughed as much.
The tickling had become something else. It was no longer just torture. It was a perverse caress, a sensation that pushed her to the edge, a fragile bridge between pleasure and madness.
The feathers between her toes suddenly activated, gliding faster, pressing lightly, brushing against the hypersensitive hollows of her soles.
Her feet immediately tensed, her toes spreading and curling at a frantic pace, powerless against the relentless attack.
— AHAHAHA—NHHH! Hnnnnnnn…!
A new spasm coursed through her body, her chest quivering under the feathers that still grazed her engorged nipples. The mix of sensations was unbearable.
Her skin shivered, her lower abdomen pulsed, her consciousness drifted toward a state she no longer understood. She had never felt such a need.
Each caress of the feathers on her intimacy brought her closer to the edge, eliciting moans, tremors, and an increasingly unbearable anticipation.
Her fingers clenched in the void, her wrists tugging uselessly against the restraints, her back arching involuntarily, offering her body even more to the torture and ecstasy.
— Hhhhhh… nhhh… nhhhhaaaa… oh… oh my…
Her feet continued to tremble, the feathers attacking the ultra-sensitive skin between her toes, tracing invisible arcs on her moist and quivering soles.
Her face contorted, a mix of frustration, pleasure, and pain painting her marked features. She knew she was once again on the brink of orgasm.
Dr. Langley, in the shadows, took notes on every micro-reaction of Veronica, capturing the slightest twitches of her subdued body.
She refined the final parameters. She now had all the data necessary for the next stage. She pressed a button. The feathers intensified.
The ten feathers between her toes began to vibrate slightly, causing a wave of tickles so precise that Veronica screamed a mix of laughter and uncontrolled moans, her voice hoarse from having already screamed so much.
— AHAHAHAHHHHHHH—NNNNNHHHHHHH OHHHHH!!!
Her feet tried in vain to escape, her toes clenched in uncontrollable spasms, her skin shivering under the methodical attack.
The feathers on her breasts swirled, brushing against the already tortured tips, stimulating the most sensitive nerves, creating an almost unbearable sensation of ecstasy.
And finally… The feather between her legs began to spin.
Slower, more precisely, caressing just enough to cross the line.
— Nhhhh—ahhhhh—AHHHHNNNNNNNNNNHHHHHHH!!!
She froze, her body contracting in a final spasm, a perfect arc of tension and accumulated pleasure.
Then it was an explosion. An orgasm so violent that it shook her from head to toe, an orgasm broken by spasms, an orgasm that the feathers did not let subside.
She gasped, screamed, cried, the pleasure breaking her in total submission.
Her body shook with tremors, her back arched, her feet opening in a final spasm under the effect of the tickles.
Her toes separated, stiffened, then curled one last time as her sex still pulsed against the feather.
She was nothing more than a puppet broken by pleasure and tickles.
Everything had stopped. The silence, after hours of tickling and forced pleasure, was almost brutal.
Veronica gasped, her bare chest rising rapidly, gravity pulling her still trembling breasts toward the floor. Her glistening thighs, her silver-painted toes still clenched in the air, her entire body vibrated with the remnants of the imposed orgasms.
Her makeup was ruined. Black kohl ran under her eyes, tracing dirty lines of tears and pleasure. Her lipstick was partially erased, testifying to her biting and hysterical laughter. Her sweaty forehead, her disheveled hair, every part of her betrayed the progressive submission of her body.
And yet she was still there. Still conscious. Her heartbeat was erratic, but she struggled to regain her senses. That's when she heard it. The sharp sound of liquid moving in a syringe.
Her blurry gaze fell on Dr. Langley, standing before her. In her gloved hands, two syringes filled with a thick, slightly luminous pink liquid.
Veronica frowned, still too exhausted to formulate the question screaming in her mind.
Dr. Langley approached gently, observing her with that scientific and sadistic gleam in her eyes, as if studying a rare and fascinating creature.
— Your reactivity is exceptional… Every reaction has been carefully noted.
She reached out, caressing Veronica's burning cheek with her fingertips.
— "But your body must still be refined… To reach its full potential."
She raised the first syringe.
Veronica felt a cold shiver run up her spine.
— "Wait… This… What are you going to do to me?"
Dr. Langley did not respond immediately, preferring to brush against one of Veronica's heavy breasts, testing the new sensitivity of her flesh already engorged with pleasure.
— "Don't worry. It won't hurt… Just a new sensation."
And without further ado, she slowly inserted the needle into the top of the left breast, just next to the still taut areola.
— "Ahnn…!"
A mix of pain and excitement washed over her, an uncontrolled jolt arching her back.
Then the second. In the other breast, symmetrically. The warm liquid infiltrated under her skin.
Veronica first felt a gentle warmth spread under her skin. Then a burn.
A shiver of intense heat, as if an invisible flame was spreading under her epidermis, slowly undulating from her chest to her belly, then descending between her legs.
Her sex immediately contracted, as if suddenly deprived and hungry at the same time.
— "Hhhhnnn… Ahhh…"
She squirmed involuntarily, her thighs trembling slightly against the straps that kept them open.
She did not understand what was happening, but… her skin was on fire.
Her nipples throbbed, hardening almost painfully, her sex pulsed, wet, even more receptive than before.
A hunger. An animal heat that devoured her from within, a visceral need for contact, stimulation, friction.
— Wh… what is this…? she gasped, her breath ragged.
Dr. Langley smiled, observing every tremor, every desperate movement of Veronica.
— Your body is reacting to hormonal activation. Your sexual glands are in hyperstimulation… More lubrication… More receptivity… More pleasure…
Veronica gasped, her hips moving on their own, pressing against the air, as if seeking something, anything, to fill this sudden void.
And as the heat overwhelmed her, another sensation took hold. A new hypersensitivity.
Her entire epidermis was on alert, as if every millimeter of skin had become an ultra-sensitive nerve point.
The slightest breeze on her breasts made her shiver. The contact of her own hair against her nape elicited a slight spasm. Every part of her body was a playground ready to explode at the slightest touch. She did not even dare to imagine what the tickling would be like now.
Dr. Langley lightly grazed the hollow of the left breast with her fingernail.
— Aaaahh!
Veronica arched violently, as if she had just been touched with an electric shock.
Her body had become an ultra-sensitive instrument, each touch a shock, an orgasm in waiting.
Dr. Langley straightened slightly, analyzing Veronica's state.
— Fascinating… Your reactions are amplified beyond my expectations…
She tilted her head, then lightly grazed the top of Veronica's hip with her fingertips.
— Nnnhhh! Oh… ohh…
Veronica gasped, her gaze lost, her skin marbled with shivers, her hands clenched in the void.
She felt like a living antenna, picking up every micro-stimulation, every temperature variation.
Her head felt strange, as if it was slightly foggy. She could still think… But not clearly. As if every second distanced her a little more from her lucidity.
— You feel that, don't you? Dr. Langley whispered.
Veronica opened her mouth… But no answer came.
She was too focused on the sensations, too lost in the confusion of her own body.
Her heavy chest rose and fell slowly, her belly undulating with each breath, as if her body was learning a new way to exist.
Dr. Langley stepped back slightly.
— Very good. Very good.
She lightly tapped the touchscreen of a tablet next to her.
— We have reached the first stage.
She looked back at Veronica, now motionless, but visibly struggling internally with her own state.
— The next test… will be even more important.
A shiver of anticipation ran through Veronica.
She did not know what was coming next… But her body was already beginning to wait for it.
The silence had been but a respite, an illusion. With a simple gesture from Dr. Langley, everything resumed.
A violent shiver shook Veronica when two suction cups were attached to her swollen breasts, engulfing her sensitive nipples with clinical precision.
— "Nhhaaahh!"
The suction began. An exquisite tugging, a mix of pressure and suction that immediately awakened every nerve in her chest.
— Oohhh—!!
Veronica arched violently, her hands clenched in the void, her silver-painted toes curling abruptly. Her body was reacting much too strongly.
The aphrodisiac still pulsed within her, amplifying every sensation, every shiver, every contraction of pleasure.
She could feel the heat within her rising even faster, a primal, animal, uncontrollable need.
And as the suction on her breasts intensified, the tickling resumed.
Feathers, fewer than before, began their infernal dance again on her hypersensitive soles, tracing arabesques on her taut curves.
The mere contact was enough to provoke uncontrolled jolts.
— Hhhnnnnaaaahh!!
Her toes immediately clenched, contracting her delicate soles, furrowing them with deep creases in a desperate attempt to escape the unbearable softness.
But the lack of restraint gave her no advantage.
With each stroke of the feathers, her feet kicked the air, curled, shivered under the assault, sliding on the floor in an involuntary dance of resistance.
Her silver-painted toes opened, closed, trembled with each caress, but the torture persisted, forcing them into new desperate spasms.
— HHHAAAHH! NOHOHOHOOOOO!
Her heels clacked in the void, her right foot trembling more than the left, her entire body reacting to the light but inevitable assaults.
And the more she struggled, the more her excitement grew.
— AHHNNH!
A new cycle of suction began on her chest, sucking her nipples that had become hypersensitive points of tension.
The sensation was terribly intense.
She could feel something rising within her, an unnatural heat, like a ball of pleasure being pulled out of her by the perfectly calibrated machines.
— Aaahhh—haaahhhh!!
The suction synchronized its rhythm with the tremors of her belly, as if her entire body was resonating with the stimulation.
She could no longer breathe without moaning. Her body had become a wave of continuous pleasure, each breath amplifying her excitement.
She felt heavy, loosely tied, her chest vibrating with sensations, her breasts almost painfully full from the constant tugging.
And just when she thought she was reaching a lull, the other feathers returned, and she felt the inevitable.
A cold shiver, a diabolical touch. A solitary feather.
— NONONONONOOOOO!!
Too late. The feather slid between her swollen lips, brushing against her burning bud, tracing lazy movements along her dripping slit.
— HHHAAAHHAAHHHHH!
Her body exploded in spasms. Her sex contracted violently, reacting with disproportionate intensity, releasing an impressive amount of wetness.
The aphrodisiac had exacerbated everything.
Each little touch was a shockwave, an exquisite torture, a cruel mockery of her own desires. She could no longer even struggle. Each jolt of her body exposed her even more. Her hips undulated on their own, offering her sex to the torment despite herself.
Her hands trembled, clenching her fists as a last attempt to anchor herself to reality. She could no longer think. Only feel.
— NNHNNNNGGGHHH! AAAAHHHHHH—!!
A choked cry, her belly contracting violently, her thighs trembling under the intensity of the impending orgasm.
She had never been so vulnerable.
And yet… She wanted more. Everything aligned to break her.
The feathers on her feet. The suction cups on her breasts. The feather between her legs.
And suddenly, the rhythm accelerated.
— HHAAAAHHHHHHHAAAHHH!!
Her back arched sharply, a shiver of pure ecstasy shaking every muscle in her body.
The suction cups pressed harder on her breasts, the feathers redoubled on her feet, and the attack between her thighs intensified, tracing more precise, more incisive circles.
— OHNONONONONONONOHAAAHHH!!"
She could not hold back the tsunami.
A final spasm.
A broken scream.
And then…
An immeasurable orgasm, taking root in her belly, spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes.
Her fluid flowed down her thighs, her chest trembled violently under the suction, her feet struck the floor in a final protest.
The silence lasted only a heartbeat before everything resumed.
The suction cups on her breasts began to suck methodically again, creating that regular, almost soothing suction that made her heavy, taut, engorged breasts sway.
The feathers, meanwhile, had never stopped. On her feet, they continued their diabolical dance, gliding between her silver toes, quivering against her hypersensitive pads, tracing circles on her arches. Each brushstroke triggered an uncontrolled spasm, her toes spreading nervously before curling in a futile reflex.
But it was the feather between her legs that made her tremble again.
It still grazed her swollen clitoris, her soaked lips, relentlessly teasing that already burning area, exacerbated by hours of stimulation.
— Nnnhhh… Hhhhhaa… h-haahh…
Veronica gasped, her arms trembling beneath her, her forehead beaded with sweat. She tried to regain control, to not give in again to the overwhelming desire that was rising within her. She could feel the adrenaline, the raw pleasure, the tearing need… but she still resisted.
That's when she felt Dr. Langley's presence. A slight cold touch on her shoulder.
She barely opened her eyes and glimpsed, in the corner of her vision, a syringe filled with an opalescent pink liquid.
— Veronica… Dr. Langley murmured softly. You are ready for the real test.
Her heart skipped a beat. She did not even have time to react.
The needle, this time filled with a white liquid, penetrated her flesh with clinical precision, just under the base of her left breast.
A shiver ran through her immediately. She moaned, a trembling breath escaping her lips.
She felt the liquid spread through her veins like liquid fire.
An unreal heat spread under her skin, radiating from her breast, which gained a new sensitivity.
Her breathing accelerated abruptly.
— Oh… oh no… what… what is this…?
Dr. Langley did not respond.
She simply smiled.
And Veronica quickly understood.
Her skin became hypersensitive to a level she would never have believed possible. Each feather, each suction, each touch became unbearably intense.
The feathers on her feet seemed to multiply.
— AAAHHAHAHHAHA NOHOHOHOHOOO!!
Her toes spread violently, clenched, then desperately closed, her soles hollowing out, her heels clacking against the device. She could not prevent anything.
The suction cups on her breasts sucked harder, synchronized with the frantic beating of her heart.
Her chest trembled under the tugging, an electric pressure rising in her taut nipples.
— HHHAAAHH!! S-STOP!! PLEASE—!!
But the worst…
Was between her thighs.
The feather had begun to spin more slowly, but each pass over her burning sex sent uncontrollable shocks through her. As if her clitoris was a raw nerve.
— Nnnnnhhh! Haaaahhh… no… nooo…
Her belly contracted, her back arched involuntarily, her thighs trembled against the straps.
She wanted to flee. She wanted to beg. But the heat, the hunger, the excitement had become uncontrollable.
She could feel it coming. The point of no return. Langley, observing her precise reactions, moved closer, whispering in her ear:
— Relax… You're almost there.
Veronica weakly shook her head, her disheveled hair sticking to her damp forehead. She was still fighting, but she knew it was useless. The buildup was inevitable.
Her feet twitched under the feathers, her toes splayed, fluttering frantically. Her breasts bounced with the suction, heavy, engorged, stretched to the limit. Her hips swayed involuntarily, offered to the feather that swirled slowly over her drenched sex.
— P-please… please… stop… I… I can’t…
Her voice trembled, broken, a mix of hysterical laughter and sincere pleading. Yet, her stomach tightened. She felt the orgasm rising, enormous, uncontrollable, overwhelming her with no way back.
Veronica felt her body betraying her, every fiber of her being vibrating with heightened sensitivity. The feathers on her feet continued their infernal dance, each touch triggering uncontrollable spasms. Her toes, adorned with silver polish, curled and splayed frantically, desperately trying to escape this delicious torture.
Her chest, subjected to the rhythmic suction of the pumps, seemed on the verge of exploding. The cups pulled with increased intensity, stimulating her already hypersensitive nipples. Each suck sent waves of burning pleasure through her body, pushing her inexorably toward the breaking point.
The feather between her thighs continued its insidious caress, brushing against her clitoris with diabolical precision. Veronica tried to resist, to hold back the imminent orgasm, but her body, betrayed by the injection, no longer responded to her will.
— Nnnnhhh... please... I... I can't anymore... hahahaha...
Her hysterical laughter mixed with desperate pleas, her hips swaying involuntarily to intensify the contact with the feather. Her mind struggled to maintain a semblance of control, but each stimulation plunged her deeper into abandon.
The pumps on her breasts accelerated their rhythm, sucking the milk with mechanical avidity. Veronica felt a growing pressure in her chest, a liquid warmth spreading within her. Her breasts, heavy and taut, seemed ready to overflow, each suck eliciting an uncontrollable moan.
The tension built within her, a brutal and inevitable wave of pleasure. Her entire body tensed, muscles contracting as she reached the peak of ecstasy. A primal cry escaped her lips, turning into a deep, guttural moan.
— Mmmmooooooohhhhhh!!
At that moment, her breasts released an explosion of milk, the pumps struggling to contain the sudden flow. The center's metrics went wild, recording production levels never reached before. Veronica, now the center's greatest producer, completely surrendered to this new identity, her mind overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure and submission.
Veronica was now overwhelmed by a wave of uncontrollable sensations. The feathers continued their infernal dance on her feet, each touch triggering hysterical laughter and uncontrollable spasms. Her toes, adorned with silver polish, curled and splayed frantically, desperately trying to escape this exquisite torture.
Her wet slit throbbed under the relentless caresses of the feather, each pass over her clitoris sending burning pleasure through her body. She could feel her excitement dripping down her thighs, a testament to her total abandon to these sensations.
The pumps on her breasts continued their rhythmic suction, stimulating abundant milk production. Her breasts, heavy and taut, seemed on the verge of exploding under the pressure, each suck eliciting moans mixed with pleasure and pain.
Veronica, exhausted and overwhelmed by these stimulations, felt a new wave of pleasure building within her, more intense than ever. Her entire body tensed, muscles contracting as she reached another orgasm, even more powerful than the last. A primal cry escaped her lips, turning into a deep, guttural moan.
— MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!!
Her breasts released another explosion of milk, the pumps struggling to contain the abundant flow. The center's metrics went wild again, recording production levels never reached before.
Veronica was exhausted, her body trembling from the relentless stimulations. The feathers continued their delicate dance on her feet, eliciting weak, saccadic laughter, remnants of her depleted energy. Her toes, once agitated, now moved slowly, unable to escape these ceaseless caresses.
Her breasts, still engorged, leaked drops of milk under the pumps, each suck eliciting a soft moan. Her wet slit still throbbed, a testament to the intensity of the previous orgasms.
The scientist observed the scene with undisguised satisfaction. She approached Veronica, a gleam of triumph in her eyes, and murmured softly:
— Congratulations, Veronica. That’s quite a quantity for your first time.
Veronica, through her exhausted laughter, felt a wave of submission wash over her. She had reached a point of no return, her body and mind entirely devoted to this new role.
The scientist straightened up, satisfied with the result, and signaled her team to prepare Veronica for the next phase, aware of having found the ideal producer in her.
