tkl-pen
1st Level Orange Feather
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THE JAPANESE CHRONICLES – VOLUME TWO
CHERYL TATE AND LYNNE LAWSON
FLIGHT ATTENDANTS
“Who are all these young American ladies in this restaurant, Akiro,” he asked one of the waiters, “there seem to be a lot of them.”
“They are flight attendants from one of the airlines that flies into Narita,” he explained, “and they stay in one of the hotels around the airport. They only arrived a few minutes ago and they want to eat and have a few drinks before they go to their rooms.”
“I see,” he said, musing over the possibilities of a night’s entertainment involving one of the girls he was admiring, a young lady of perhaps twenty four years of age, five feet five inches in height, with long blonde hair, brown eyes and full lips accentuated by a light red lipstick.
“They are quite attractive, aren’t they,” said Akiro, “would you like me to introduce you?”
“Actually, Akiro, I would prefer that you didn’t,” he said, “the one young lady I am particularly looking at, the third one from the left, has already seen me looking her way. She has made every effort to look away but she keeps looking back to see if I am still watching her.”
“Perhaps I should mention this to her,” he said, “so that she will not continue to look in your direction.”
“No, I would prefer that you don’t do that. Do they all have private rooms in this hotel,” he asked, “or do they share their accommodations?”
“Oh no, they have private rooms wherever they go. As far as I know, the airline always has to give them private rooms when they’re away from home. We have three floors in the hotel completely set aside for flight crews like that. Imagine, some planes have twenty flight attendants in them. Then, they always stay for two or three nights.”
“Akiro, would it be possible to find out what room that particular young lady is staying in tonight?”
“Yes, of course, they all have to write their room numbers on the bill when they finish their meals. Why?”
“Tell me, how much do you earn as a waiter in this hotel? Two thousand a month? Maybe three?”
“Yes, closer to three if I work really hard and do well with my tips.”
“It must be hard to support a family, a wife and children, with that kind of salary.”
“Yes, it is. I have one daughter in university now and another one starting in a few months. It’s very hard.”
“Akiro, I’ll give you a thousand if you find out what room that girl is staying in.”
“That’s highly irregular, sir.”
“Nobody will know, Akiro,” he said, slipping some money into Akiro’s pocket, “here it is. Simply tell me the room number when she leaves.”
“What are you going to do to her?”
“I want to go out with her, Akiro, but it would be too embarrassing for me if I was to ask her with all of the others around her.”
“I see. Do you think she will go with you? I don’t want to take your money if she doesn’t come.”
“Akiro, I am sure she will go with me, and I am also quite sure she will come.”
“But, sir, that’s the same thing.”
“Perhaps, Akiro, perhaps it is.”
“Akiro, could I have another Sapporo beer, please,” he asked a few minutes later.
“Yes, sir, of course.”
He had been watching the particular girl who had his attention. She seemed to be enjoying herself in the company of her fellow flight attendants. They had all changed out of their uniforms when they checked into the hotel and came down to eat in civilian clothes. Cheryl wore light blue jeans with a broad black belt that had two rows of holes, one above the other, a black tank top and sport shoes with socks. She wore no jewelry other than her watch.
“I have the information you wanted, sir,” said the waiter as he returned to the table, “the number is 339.”
“Thankyou, Akiro, that’s very helpful.”
“My pleasure, sir, will there be anything else?”
“Do you think that those girls will be ordering more drinks or are they about to go to their rooms?”
“Not yet, sir, I already have another order for their drinks.”
“Excellent, Akiro. Would you like to make another two thousand for helping me?”
“What would you like me to do, sir?”
“I would like you to put this in her drink,” he said, as he gave the waiter a little pill, “it will dissolve right away without any visible signs while it does so and it leaves no taste for her to detect at all.”
“What will it do to her?”
“It will only make her sleepy and she will want to go to her room before the others are ready to leave,” he said, as he gave the waiter the tablet and placed the money into his pocket.
A short time later, as the man was finishing his glass of beer, he saw the girl he had been watching sipping her drink. She was starting to yawn and he knew that she would soon be nodding off. He paid his bill and left the restaurant.
As he had planned, Cheryl soon returned to her room to go to sleep. When she opened the door and entered her room through the little hallway that had the washroom on its side, she threw her purse onto the bed and she was about to turn on one of the lights above the night table beside her bed. She was not aware of the other presence in the room, the powerful older man who had been watching her in the restaurant and who had been laying in wait in the washroom.
She instinctively reached up to the powerful arm that suddenly encircled her and tightly held a moist cloth over her mouth and nose. Her pitiful struggles in her previously weakened state were nothing against the strength of the powerful man who held her and she was soon completely unconscious.
He had gently lowered the unconscious Cheryl Tate onto her bed, preparing to take her to his black BMW parked outside the service stairwell, when there was a knock on the door. He looked through the peep hole and saw a very pretty black African-American girl, clearly another flight attendant, standing in front of the door. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. As quietly as possible, he unlocked the door from within.
“Cheryl, are you okay?”
When the black girl received no answer, she decided to try the door handle to see if she could go into Cheryl’s room. To both her surprise and relief, the door opened and she went into the room. It was dark inside but she could see the outline of her friend’s body on her bed.
“Hmmmmmpf,” she complained as someone behind her suddenly thrust a moist cloth over her mouth and nose. She struggled and kicked but the man holding her was simply too strong. She succumbed to the noxious fumes of the chloroform within a few seconds.
Lynne was the first of the girls to waken. She started to stir as she was being carried over his shoulder into the massive dungeon facility beneath his country estate. She tried to struggle, of course, but she was still groggy from the chloroform and it was of no use. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see some of the dungeon furnishings with their various restraints, but even the sight of those things didn’t yet register in her mind.
He placed her onto a large X-shaped table, lowering her carefully to the baby blue leatherette covering the entire top of the device. He lifted her right arm over her head and attached a black leather restraint to her wrist. She felt the coolness of the metal chain that was attached to the restraint where it touched the back and side of her hand. She snapped to complete awareness when she felt him attaching the second black leather restraint to her left wrist. She looked up at her arm as he was restraining it.
“Oh my God, what the hell are you doing?”
He walked around the table and took a firm hold of Lynne’s right leg, one hand on her ankle and the other just above her knee, and he fastened another black leather restraint around her ankle. She tried to pull her leg away from the waiting restraint and tried to kick at him with her left leg. He then secured her left leg in another black leather restraint as she again tried to pull it away from him. Lynne was completely helpless, spreadeagled and restrained by her wrists and ankles.
“Let me go,” she demanded, as she tried desperately to get loose.
“Now I hardly think that would be appropriate after all of the trouble I’ve gone to in bringing you here. I would prefer that you be quiet for now or I’ll have to put a gag in your mouth. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then be still while I bring in your friend.”
He left the dungeon and soon returned with the unconscious form of Cheryl over his shoulder. She began to awaken when she felt the coolness of the baby blue leatherette covering the second X-shaped table on her back. She started to struggle immediately and he was forced to hold her down onto the table as he secured her wrists and her ankles into black leather restraints, as he had done with Lynne.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“I am going to host you here at my estate for a day or two, since you are both on a crew layover in Tokyo, and provide you with some very special forms of entertainment. I actually intended to invite only you but your black friend came into your room and presented herself like a wonderful little present.”
“I’m no present for you, old man, and I want you to let me go right now or there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“My, such spirit, little black girl! Are you going to start using four letter words any time soon? I would suggest you don’t as I have a very good whip here and I will give you a stroke for every bad word that comes out of your mouth. Is that clear?”
He walked over to her table and bent down toward her face, holding it in the firm grip of his powerful hand.
“Is that clear?”
“Yeah, it’s clear.”
“Now, where shall we begin. I really wanted to spend some time with you,” he said, indicating Cheryl, “but we can’t very well have our little black girl there watching and interfering, can we?”
“I know what we can do to keep her entertained while we get acquainted,” he said, “she’ll get a laugh out of this.”
He slowly untied the laces of her shoes and then slowly removed theme from her feet, placing them on a nearby stainless steel trolley cart. She struggled against her restraints as he gently stroked her feet, still clad in her white socks, carefully but firmly moving his hands over both the tops and bottoms of her feet.
“Does that feel good, little black girl?”
“Go to hell! Leave me alone!”
He slowly peeled off her socks, first the right and then the left, leaving her feet completely exposed. He sat down on a stainless steel stool of the sort that doctors use in their offices, picked up a bowl of thick paste and a basting brush. He started brushing the paste onto the soles of her feet, carefully and thickly covering every part of each foot from the tips of her toes to her heels, then repeating the application two more times as the paste dried quickly.
“What the hell is that,” she asked, as she fought back her giggles.
“I am applying a very thick, salty paste to the soles of your feet.”
“What for?”
“You will find out shortly. I like the way your skin is lighter down here so that I’ll know exactly where to brush on this paste.”
“Stop it, you’re tickling me!”
“In a few minutes, the little tickling sensations you feel now will not be all that significant. Go ahead and laugh if you like.”
“No way, you’d love that I’m sure.”
“As you wish.”
The man fastened a leather restraint around her waist and around each of her legs above the knees. He then moved to a nearby control console and entered some instructions into the computer. The girls heard a slight humming noise and Lynne felt a slight vibration in the table to which she was strapped. The table began to move toward a far wall of the room. It was clearly mounted on tracks imbedded in the floor.
“What the hell?”
“I want to spend some time alone with your friend here, little black girl, but it would be rude if I didn’t provide some entertainment for you. So this table will take you into another chamber beyond that wall. There are a number of animals there that have been on a salt free diet for the last two weeks. They will be more than happy to lick that salty paste off your feet.”
“No, please, that’s going to tickle like hell!”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is. I was told that American women like men who make them laugh. So, I’m going to make you laugh.”
“That’s not what they mean. They want to hear funny stories and laugh at funny situations. They don’t want to be tickled.”
As the doors to the other chamber slid open, Lynne found herself moving into a circular chamber perhaps twelve feet in diameter. The table came to a stop in the very center of the room. She lifted her head and looked around the room. It had nine metal doors, which would slide open in the same way as the entry door, but these doors were only a foot and a half in height and three feet in width.
“Each of these hatches leads into an enclosure with a particular type of animal in it,” he told her over an intercom system, “the table is going to spin like a roulette wheel to determine which one will open for you.”
“Oh, oh, oh,” Lynne said as the table started to move. It was like being on the Wheel of Fortune on television and it spun equally fast. She closed her eyes as she spun around what must have been close to twenty times. It spun really fast for two or three turns and then slowed down by force of gravity until it came to a stop.
“Oh, my God, that was freaky,” she said to herself, “now what?”
She felt the table start to move in the direction her feet were pointed. She read the sign over the small door which read ‘Kobe beef calves’. As her feet reached the little door, it slid open and the top part of the table she was on proceeded into the enclosure. She lifted her head and saw four large calves, about half grown, moving toward her feet.
“No, please get me out of here,” she called out, desperately struggling against her restraints, “they’re coming. Aaaaaaah, pleeheeheese, aaahahahahahaha, they’re lihihicking my feeheeheet.”
The man had turned off the intercom, though, and the doors had closed behind her after she was wheeled into the circular room. Nobody could hear her anymore. She was alone, helplessly strapped down to the X-shaped table with four half-grown calves licking the salty paste, which was now dry, off the soles of her feet.
Cheryl looked at the man standing beside her. He was a man in his early fifties, she surmised, very elegant and articulate, very healthy and powerful, with gray hairs prominently appearing among his black ones, dark brown eyes and an expensive suit with shirt and tie. He stood there for several minutes, looking at her, admiring her.
“I saw you looking at me in the restaurant, you know.”
“Yes, I know that you did because you kept glancing back at me. You were easily the prettiest girl on your crew.”
“Then you know that I’m a flight attendant.”
“Of course, even though you don’t dress like one.”
“I dress like this in the hotel on layovers. We all do.”
“I see.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“Because I wanted to spend a night, perhaps two, with you.”
“Then why didn’t you simply ask me out?”
“Because I am a man in his fifties and you are a girl of twenty four or so. What chance would I have had with you if I approached you and asked you out, especially with almost twenty of your peers around you.”
“Well, no chance at all, I guess.”
He leaned down close to her face and, touching her on the left cheek, told her, “that’s why I had to be a little more inventive.”
“So, what is this place?”
“This is a very complete dungeon built deep underground below my country house, a place I like to refer to as my playroom.”
“I see. What are you going to do to me?”
“That depends largely on you. I have a great passion for tickling young women, a magnificent sexual torture that I often use to introduce a girl to unfathomable sensations that her body and her nervous system are capable of. Your responses will determine the things that I will do to you. May I kiss you?”
“No!”
“Well then, little blonde girl, I’ll have to become a little more persuasive, won’t I?”
He stepped back from the table and removed his suit jacket and his tie, opening the two top buttons on his shirt. He wheeled a stainless steel trolley cart over to the right side of the table she was on. She lifted her head and could see a number of things on the top of the cart, including a pair of scissors, a knife, brushes and feathers. She lowered her head back down.
“This, young lady, is a fude, a Japanese calligraphy pen,” he said, as he held the fude in front of her face, “but it is more like a little pointed brush than a pen, isn’t it? How do you think it would feel to have this little fude moving ever so lightly over your soft pink skin?”
“Whatever!”
“Perhaps I’ll start at the head end with you,” he said, as he moved to the head end of the table and raised a new restraint into place. It had three bars covered in the same baby blue leatherette as the surface of the table. Two of these came to rest along the side of her head above her ears and the third came to rest over the top of her head. He then attached a strap to the end of one of the side pieces, brought it across her forehead, and clipped it to the other side piece. She was now completely unable to move her head from side to side or to lift it from the table. She pulled on her wrist restraints and then on her ankle restraints but the only part that moved even a little was that part of her body from her shoulders to her knees.
“The restraint holding your head is one that was developed by the Chinese for the famous water torture which I might later demonstrate on your little black friend who tried to come to your rescue. For now, its suits our purposes to perfection.”
“Now then, may I kiss you?”
“No!”
“Allow me, then, to introduce you to the fude,” he said, as he lowered the little pointed brush into the hollow at the base of her neck and lightly stroked it along the tendons on both sides of her throat to the point just below her ears. He continued the very light strokes along the tendons, along the middle of her neck to the point below her chin, over and over and over. She tried to move her head, of course, so that her neck wouldn’t be as exposed to his ministrations with the fude.
“So, what do you think, little blonde girl, may I kiss you now?
“No, let me go!”
“Pfft,” she blew threw her nose as he started to tickle her nose with the little fude, then moving onto her ears and, finally, the edges and surfaces of her lips.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to kiss you,” he said, as he continued to tickle her nose, her ears, her lips, below her chin, her neck and her collar bones, “I can continue this for hours. You are so beautiful, little blonde girl. How long do you think you can resist this?”
“You’re torturing me, you know!”
“Yes, I thought so. Are you sure you don’t want me to kiss you on these beautiful, sensitive lips? Would you rather feel the tip of this little brush going across your lips endlessly?”
“God, will you stop it! I can’t stand it anymore!”
“May I kiss you now?”
“Okay, then, kiss me already!”
Slowly he lowered his lips to hers, touching them ever so lightly, allowing the very tip of his tongue to make only the slightest contact with them, giving her the promise of more to come, implanting only the smallest seeds of desire in her subconscious mind. She closed her eyes and drank in the sensations of his lips and his tongue upon hers.
Meanwhile, he could see on a nearby monitor that the black girl had been retracted from the enclosure holding the calves. She was catching her breath now that the tickling of her feet had come to a stop. Her jeans were soaked. The tickling of her feet had been so intense that she wet herself.
“That completes round one,” she heard the man say over the intercom, “I will set the system on a ten minute rest period. Then the next round will commence.”
“No, please, I’ll go out of my mind!”
Her pleas fell on deaf ears, though, since he had already turned off the intercom.
Lynne screamed as the table started to move ten minutes later and she had to endure another spin of the wheel, so to speak. She closed her eyes again so that the spinning of the table wouldn’t make her too dizzy. When it stopped, perhaps fifteen or twenty seconds later, she lifted her head to see where her feet were pointed. The sign over the hatch said leopards. A pad arose from below her feet somewhere and applied paste all over again. From the smell, she could tell it was a fishy paste this time. The top of the table moved into the opening hatch and, after a few anguished seconds of waiting, she felt the cold nose of one of the large cats in the arch of her left foot. Then it started.
“Aaaaah, no, oh, Gohohohod!” she laughed and cried as she felt the long velvety soft tongues of two large felines licking the soles of her feet in long strokes from her heels all the way to her toes. Every once in a while, she could feel one of these powerful tongues forced into the spaces between her toes and the hollow beneath.
“You know, I had not noticed your armpits before, but here they are,” he said, as he started to move the fude around in her left one, “are you ticklish in there?”
“Yes, of course, please don’t do that!”
“But I think that you want men to do that,” he said, as he continued to tickle her armpits, both sides, with two of the little calligraphy brushes, “that must be the reason you wear a sleeveless top like this.”
“Nohoho, it isn’t,” she laughed, “it’s ohohonly because it’s comfortable.”
“I see. I think you can feel this, though. Do you like to be tickled?”
“Nohohoho, I dohohon’t!”
“But why not?”
“Because it tihihickles, that’s why!”
“I understand. You’re having a little trouble talking to me, aren’t you?”
“Stohohop! That’s because you’re mahahaking me laugh.”
“That must be it. Would you like me to kiss you again?”
“Okay, okay, stop it and kiss me then!”
Once again he lowered his lips toward hers. This time, though, he not only lightly kissed her lips and delicately touched her lips with his tongue, he also touched the very tip of her tongue with his as she lifted her mouth toward his ever so slightly. He lifted away from her lips and moved to the head end of the table.
“Forgive me, I am so rude,” he said, as he unfastened the headband and retracted the head restraint back into its place below the table, “we don’t need this anymore, do we?”
“Aaaaah,” she cried suddenly as he again stroked her neck, this time with both of the little calligraphy brushes, held in one hand in a vee pattern, while he cupped his other hand over her right breast. He noticed, of course, that her nipples had become quite hard, engorged with her blood, as she was becoming sexually aroused.
“Perhaps its not time for that quite yet,” he said, as he removed his hand from her breast and moved down to her stomach.
“Aaaah, Gohohod, you’re kihihilling me,” she laughed and cried all at once.
“Did you know that a woman’s stomach is one of her most sensitive areas,” he asked as he moved the fude from side to side over her belly, ranging from her midriff to the waistband of her jeans, carefully avoiding her navel.
“What are you doing,” she asked, as he unbuckled her belt, opened the button on the waistband of her jeans, unfastened her zipper and pulled her pants open.
“There is more of your delicious young stomach in your pants,” he said, as he opened the front of her pants into a v shaped area, “and we want to include that as we work on the rest of your tummy, don’t we?”
“Crap! Hahahahahahaaaaaaa!” she laughed as he moved the tip of the little brush along the edge of her zipper, starting at the bottom and stroking toward the top of her pants. She arched her back and twisted her body from side to side as much as she could but his tickling was relentless. She even bucked her hips up and down as she tried to get away from the terrible little pointed brush.
“Oh, God, nohohoho, heeheeheehee,” she cried as he started to work the fude into her navel, “nohohot my behehelly buhuhutton!”
But he continued to tickle all over her tummy, around and inside her navel, inside the open area formed by her opened pants, endlessly. Cheryl knew she was sopping wet with the juices of her sexual arousal and she hoped beyond hope that the man wasn’t going to notice. He was, of course, well aware of it. He had seen her arousal start when he was tickling her face and neck, with the clenching or her fists and the flexing of her toes. Then, with her hardened nipples straining against the inside of her bra when he was tickling her armpits. Now he could smell her arousal as the aroma came from inside the open zipper of her jeans.
Lynne, meanwhile, had endured another hour of foot tickling in the circular chamber, as the two leopards had thoroughly licked her feet to get every little bit of the fishy paste off them. The table top on which she lay had again retracted to the middle of the chamber and she tried to catch her breath. She had never imagined how terrible such a tickling could be or how much one person could be made to endure. So far, she had had two full hours of intense tickling on her feet.
“No! Please, no!” she cried as the table started to move again. She closed her eyes while the table spun around. She lifted her head to look at the sign above her feet after the table had come to a complete stop. The sign said ‘birds’, and she told herself that wasn’t so bad since birds can’t lick anything. She felt something being sprayed onto the soles of her feet but she couldn’t see what it was. She didn’t know it was birdseed nor that it covered the entire soles of both her feet. The table top started to move and her feet were soon inside the next enclosure. Nothing happened – at first. Then, she felt one of the birds flying around her right foot. Soon, she felt a peck on the sole of her foot. Then, another. And another. She squirmed and struggled, screamed and cried, tears streaming down her face, sweat emanating from her soft black skin, as the pecking went on and on. She thought for sure that she was going to die.
“That was fun, wasn’t it,” the man said to Cheryl, as he kissed her stomach several times, starting at the top, then her navel, then the area within the open zipper of her jeans, deeply inhaling the aroma of her sexual arousal.
“Crap, he knows,” Cheryl said to herself, “now he’s going to want to have sex with me for sure.”
The man brought forth a pair of medical scissors, Lister type bandage scissors to be precise, the large ones used to remove casts from patients in hospitals. He lifted the fabric of her tank top at her midriff, placed the scissors beneath, allowing her to feel the coldness of the metal on her skin, and deftly cut through the fabric from the bottom to the top. He then cut the shoulder portions starting at her armpits and moving inward. He opened her fabric top like to flower and pulled it from beneath her back. He then opened her front-clasp bra and removed it after cutting her bra straps quite carefully at one of the seams. He pulled it from beneath her back, too.
“My, little white girl,” he taunted, stroking his finger over the nipple of her left breast, “what beautiful breasts you have.”
He moved his face down toward hers and lightly kissed her lips again, speaking to her softly,
“What would you like to feel on your lovely breasts, my fude or my lips?”
“I don’t care! Do what you want!” she said defiantly.
“Okay, both it is!”
He took one of the pointed calligraphy brushes in each hand and started to move it all over each breast in a circular manner, starting on her chest and slowly working his way toward her nipples.
“You’re moving too much to my liking,” he said, moving back to the computer console, “I’m going to have to fix that before we go on.”
Cheryl heard a whirring sound from beneath her. She looked up at her arms and saw the slack in the chains leading to her wrist restraints being taken up. She soon felt her arms being moved further up over her head. The muscles in her upper arms, shoulders and chest started to tighten and her breasts started to lift as her arms were pulled further and further over her had. Before long, she felt her legs being stretched and the restraints around her ankles tightening to hold her by the heels. Tighter and tighter she was being stretched by the machine that was built into the table. Then, perhaps a moment before it was going to cause her any pain, the stretching stopped. She was now so tightly stretched, though, that she couldn’t move any part of her body, and her breasts rose high up on her chest as they reached toward the ceiling.
He again started to stroke her breasts in circular motions right at the base, where each one met her chest, moving ever so slowly toward her nipples. He was so patient and so thorough, though, that the entire process to reach her nipples took some twenty minutes.
“Ah! Oh! Ah!”
The movement of the brushes over the skin of her breasts, though, didn’t do as much to tickle her as it did to bring her that much further into sexual arousal. She winced her eyes and grit her teeth as she felt the two little pointed brushes stroke her swollen nipples, over and over and over. Extended as they were, because of the swelling and the stretching of her body, her nipples even began to hurt.
“My God! Ah! Oh! My God!”
“What is it, little blonde girl,” he asked as he lowered his face to hers, kissing her lightly on the lips.
“You’re arousing me. I want to come! Please let me come!”
“How can I do that? Your jeans are still on.”
“Oh, God! Take them off! Cut them off! Whatever! I just want to come!”
“If I do that, what will you do for me?” he asked, as he reached back to her right nipple and continued stroking it with the fude.
“Anything! My God, let me come! I’ll blow you, or have sex with you! Anything! Please, let me come!”
He moved to her stomach and pushed his right hand into her pants, through the open zipper area, reaching into her genital area. He felt the wetness of her arousal and started to massage her clitoris and rub his hand over her pussy. His hands were quite soft and free of blemishes because he always took good care of them and used lotion several times each day.
“Oh! Yes! Yes, yes! Oh, oh, oh! Aaaaaaah!” she cried as he manipulated her into the throes of a magnificent sexual climax.
Lynne, meanwhile, had finished her session with the birds in the circular chamber. All she could do was lie still on the table until the next round of tickling torture would begin. She didn’t have to wait long. As the table began to spin again, she wondered how long this was going to go on. Soon, though, with a new meaty sauce on the soles of her feet, her attention was taken up by several large dogs in the next enclosure.
“I noticed something about you while I was doing that,” the man said, “you still have your shoes on. That’s very rude, you know! You are in Japan after all.”
“You carried me in here,” she said, as she lifted her head to look at her feet, “and then you put me on here.”
“Perhaps then you should have informed me of that,” he said, as he untied her laces and removed her shoes.
“You have very pretty little feet,” he said, as he stroked them lightly and tickled along the soles of her socks.”
“Hahaha, dohohon’t.”
“Ah, your little feet are ticklish,” he said, removing her socks while he sat down on the wheeled stainless steel stool.
“It’s so sad!”
“What’s so sad?”
“That the little calligraphy brushes are tired of tickling you already.”
“So don’t tickle me anymore!”
“Oh no, that would never do. I do hope your feet are clean,” he said, as he brought his nose down to her toes and inhaled deeply.
“Of course, my feet are clean. What do you think?”
“Well, I think I have to find a way to tickle them. I can’t use the calligraphy brushes anymore and your friend is in the next room tying up my animals who are quite busy licking the soles of her feet. I think she’s in her fourth hour now. Oh, wait, I know! I can use my tongue, the same as the animals.”
“Hahahahaaa! Nohohoho!”
“You know what?”
“Whatever!”
“No, seriously, this is a problem. Since I stretched you a while ago, your feet have been tightly restrained by the ankles here and you can’t move them at all. I’ll have to relax the tension in your body a little before I start.”
“There,” he said as he bent down over her lips again, kissing her lightly, having released the tension the rachets in the table had placed on her body, “that’s better.”
“No! No! Nohohohahaha!” she laughed, as he brought her toes into his mouth and started licking them, flicking his tongue along the bottom, into the hollows beneath, over the tips, into the spaces between and over the tops. He then moved to the insteps and arches of her feet, flicking and licking relentlessly as Cheryl tried to struggle as best she could.
After some time, he stopped licking her feet and her toes. He rose to his feet and released the restraints on Cheryl’s ankles. He moved in between her legs, lifted her feet and placed her ankles on his shoulders. He then reached up to her belt, at the side of her jeans, and pulled her jeans down her legs and over her feet. He then kissed the insides of her thighs, replaced her ankles on his shoulders and removed her panties in the same manner as her jeans.
“Now, little blonde girl, I’ll give you a choice.”
“What choice?”
“I can strap your legs down again and tickle your feet with an electric toothbrush or I can leave them loose like this and perform oral sex on you. You’re so wet that you’ll love that but you’ll have to ask for it.”
“Okay, I’ll ask for it. Please suck my snatch.”
“What? I’ve never heard such language from a beautiful girl, or an ugly one for that matter.”
“Okay, okay, please lick my pussy.”
“There, you see, that’s much better.”
“Oh, my God,” she cried as the sensations of his tongue on her pussy registered in her brain. With his years of experience, and the bondage situation she was in, it didn’t take Cheryl long to climax again. While she was in her orgasm, he licked her asshole and really drove her over the edge as he applied the pressure of his tongue to her sphincter and then inserted a moistened anal stimulator.
He replaced her legs into the ankle restraints and secured them. He moved to the control console and entered several lines of instruction to lower a large vibrator down from the ceiling above her, rest it against her pussy and leave it on.
“I’m afraid I have to attend to your friend, the little black girl, now. This vibrator will keep you amused while I am gone, though.”
“No, don’t leave that there, please!”
“Oh, come now, what’s a little vibrator going to do after all you’ve already been through. Lie back, relax and enjoy yourself.”
“How can I enjoy myself with that thing leaning up against my pussy like that. It’s going to drive me nuts.”
“I doubt that. I do think that you’re going to make too much noise, though, so I’m going to return your panties to you,” he said, as he pushed her panties into her mouth, “open your mouth.”
“Mmmmmph, plmmmms nmmmmmm, mmmmmph.”
“Well, well, if it isn’t the little black girl coming back from her trip to the zoo,” he taunted as the wheeled and tracked table holding Lynne came back into the chamber, “my, your feet are so clean.”
“Go to hell! What did you do that for? I damn near died in there!”
“Oh, please don’t exaggerate,” he said, as he unstrapped her legs, “but I do believe you wet yourself. I’ll have to remove your pants.”
“No,” she complained as she tried to kick him while he was lifting her legs onto his shoulders. He had anticipated that, though, and sidestepped her kick.
“If you don’t cooperate, I’ll send you back into the other room and you can visit the remaining five enclosures. Would you like that?”
“No, please don’t.”
“Okay, then, we’ll try it one more time.”
Lynne allowed him to put her ankles on his shoulders, to unbuckle her belt, open the button and unzip her pants. She lifted her ass slightly as he pulled her pants down and she allowed him to slide them down her legs and over her feet. She allowed him to take off her panties in the same way.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked while he was filling a bowl with warm, soapy water at a sink nearby. He returned with the bowl, a washcloth and a thick towel.
“I am doing this,” he said, as he dipped the washcloth in the water and started to wash her genitals, her upper thighs and her ass, “because I love to see beautiful young girls in restraints being driven to the greatest heights of ecstasy, to be with them and to make love to them.”
“You could have asked us, you know.”
“Sure, and then what? Would you have come with me?”
“If I knew what you were going to do to us, I would have.”
“Of course, but that’s not the real world, is it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Hahahaha, not my feeheeheet,” she laughed as he washed them with the warm soapy water.
“You want your feet to be clean, don’t you? All those animals licked your feet with salt paste, fish paste and meat paste all over them, not to mention the birdseed. I don’t mind telling you that your feet stink right now.”
“Why, I don’t have any foot smell!”
“No, you don’t, but there is a fish smell that I want to wash off.”
“There, no you can live with yourself again.”
He lowered her legs back down onto the table and refastened the restraints. Then he lowered his lips down close to hers and held her face in his hand.
“You know, I could stick an anal stimulator up your ass and set up a vibrator like your friend there so that you could have any number of orgasms and thrash around on this table like a fish out of water. But we’re not going to do that, are we,” he asked in a teasing manner while moving her face from side to side like she was saying no.
“Or do you want that?”
“No, I don’t want that.”
“Okay, little black girl, then would you like to kiss me?”
She moved her lips closer to his and opened them to reveal her pink tongue. She kissed him as best she could, since she could only lift her head so high from the table. He kissed her lips lightly at first and touched the tip of her tongue with his.
He picked the scissors up from the trolley nearby and used them to cut away her t-shirt and her bra, leaving her completely naked. Her nipples were quite firm but not nearly as hard as those of the other girl previously.
“I don’t think your body is ready for love yet, young lady,” he said, “but I have a little thing that will change that very quickly. It doesn’t work on all girls but I’ll just bet its going to work on you.”
She watched helplessly as he put on two leather gloves. There were wires coming out of each glove and these led to a square battery pack attached to his wrists.
“What are those? Are you going to beat me?”
“No, I’m not going to beat you. You don’t really think that I want to hurt you, do you?”
“No, not really, but those gloves look so mean.”
“These are called fukuoku massage gloves. They have little vibrators in all of the fingertips which are designed to provide a stimulating and sensual massage when used at the low speed. At the highest speed, though, and with a very light touch, they tickle more than you can imagine.”
“Please, don’t tickle me anymore.”
“I’m afraid you’re not aroused sufficiently to interest me as yet,” he explained, as she heard the soft humming from the vibrators in the fingertips of the leather gloves, “but this will change that.”
“So where shall we start,” he asked, as he touched the tip of her nose with one of the fingertips, “should be go straight to your breasts? Perhaps your armpits? No, I have a better idea.”
“Aaaaah! Shihihihit! Nohohohoho!”
He applied his left hand to her stomach and his right hand to her neck at the same time. For several minutes, he continued to tickle these very sensitive areas as she fought desperately to get away from the touch of the fukuoku gloves. She squirmed and struggled, twisting her body as much as she could, while the tickling continued. After that, he moved the gloves along her sides, moving them repeatedly from her lower abdomen to her armpits and her upper arms. She laughed and screamed continuously as the tickling continued relentlessly.
It was half an hour before he moved the gloves with the vibrating fingertips to her legs and her feet. Lynne howled and laughed as he tickled her legs, moving from the soles of her feet along the insides of her legs to her upper thighs and back down the outsides of her legs over and over again. He loved her feet, as he does with all young women, and held them in his vibrating hands at length.
By the time another half hour had passed, he used the right hand on her breasts and the left hand on her pussy driving her higher and higher into sexual arousal. She was so wet inside that the juices of her arousal were oozing out of her.
“Now, little black girl, I think you’re ready,” he said, as he released her from the table, “I would suggest that you behave yourself since you are at a remote country home in a strange place and your friend is still strapped to that table.”
“I will. Are you going to have sex with me now?”
“That’s up to you. You can come to another room with me and do that, or you can be strapped to that chair over there with an entire bank of assorted dildos built into it. Your choice.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Mmmmmmmmpf, mmmmmmpf.”
“It’s okay little blonde girl, we’ll only be gone for an hour or two,” he said, as he left the sweating, straining flight attendant on the big X-shaped table, naked and spreadeagled, with an anal stimulator up her ass and a vibrator continuously working on her pussy. No matter what Cheryl did to relieve the strain, or to take her mind off the torment, the vibrator continued to bring her to climax, over and over again.
After an hour or so, Lynne and the man returned to the dungeon. He removed the vibrator from the cable holding it and placed it upon the little trolley. He massaged her swollen clitoris delicately as he slowly pulled the anal stimulator out of her ass. She shook her head negatively but there was nothing she could do to stop him. He released her restraints and helped her to sit up on the table.
“Come, let’s go to the bath. After that we can have something to eat and go to sleep.”
Both of the girls awakened in Cheryl’s hotel room later that day. On the table, near the telephone, were two envelopes containing ten thousand dollars, one for each of them, and a card with a telephone number.
*** Please give some comments on this story - it means so much to me ***
CHERYL TATE AND LYNNE LAWSON
FLIGHT ATTENDANTS
“Who are all these young American ladies in this restaurant, Akiro,” he asked one of the waiters, “there seem to be a lot of them.”
“They are flight attendants from one of the airlines that flies into Narita,” he explained, “and they stay in one of the hotels around the airport. They only arrived a few minutes ago and they want to eat and have a few drinks before they go to their rooms.”
“I see,” he said, musing over the possibilities of a night’s entertainment involving one of the girls he was admiring, a young lady of perhaps twenty four years of age, five feet five inches in height, with long blonde hair, brown eyes and full lips accentuated by a light red lipstick.
“They are quite attractive, aren’t they,” said Akiro, “would you like me to introduce you?”
“Actually, Akiro, I would prefer that you didn’t,” he said, “the one young lady I am particularly looking at, the third one from the left, has already seen me looking her way. She has made every effort to look away but she keeps looking back to see if I am still watching her.”
“Perhaps I should mention this to her,” he said, “so that she will not continue to look in your direction.”
“No, I would prefer that you don’t do that. Do they all have private rooms in this hotel,” he asked, “or do they share their accommodations?”
“Oh no, they have private rooms wherever they go. As far as I know, the airline always has to give them private rooms when they’re away from home. We have three floors in the hotel completely set aside for flight crews like that. Imagine, some planes have twenty flight attendants in them. Then, they always stay for two or three nights.”
“Akiro, would it be possible to find out what room that particular young lady is staying in tonight?”
“Yes, of course, they all have to write their room numbers on the bill when they finish their meals. Why?”
“Tell me, how much do you earn as a waiter in this hotel? Two thousand a month? Maybe three?”
“Yes, closer to three if I work really hard and do well with my tips.”
“It must be hard to support a family, a wife and children, with that kind of salary.”
“Yes, it is. I have one daughter in university now and another one starting in a few months. It’s very hard.”
“Akiro, I’ll give you a thousand if you find out what room that girl is staying in.”
“That’s highly irregular, sir.”
“Nobody will know, Akiro,” he said, slipping some money into Akiro’s pocket, “here it is. Simply tell me the room number when she leaves.”
“What are you going to do to her?”
“I want to go out with her, Akiro, but it would be too embarrassing for me if I was to ask her with all of the others around her.”
“I see. Do you think she will go with you? I don’t want to take your money if she doesn’t come.”
“Akiro, I am sure she will go with me, and I am also quite sure she will come.”
“But, sir, that’s the same thing.”
“Perhaps, Akiro, perhaps it is.”
“Akiro, could I have another Sapporo beer, please,” he asked a few minutes later.
“Yes, sir, of course.”
He had been watching the particular girl who had his attention. She seemed to be enjoying herself in the company of her fellow flight attendants. They had all changed out of their uniforms when they checked into the hotel and came down to eat in civilian clothes. Cheryl wore light blue jeans with a broad black belt that had two rows of holes, one above the other, a black tank top and sport shoes with socks. She wore no jewelry other than her watch.
“I have the information you wanted, sir,” said the waiter as he returned to the table, “the number is 339.”
“Thankyou, Akiro, that’s very helpful.”
“My pleasure, sir, will there be anything else?”
“Do you think that those girls will be ordering more drinks or are they about to go to their rooms?”
“Not yet, sir, I already have another order for their drinks.”
“Excellent, Akiro. Would you like to make another two thousand for helping me?”
“What would you like me to do, sir?”
“I would like you to put this in her drink,” he said, as he gave the waiter a little pill, “it will dissolve right away without any visible signs while it does so and it leaves no taste for her to detect at all.”
“What will it do to her?”
“It will only make her sleepy and she will want to go to her room before the others are ready to leave,” he said, as he gave the waiter the tablet and placed the money into his pocket.
A short time later, as the man was finishing his glass of beer, he saw the girl he had been watching sipping her drink. She was starting to yawn and he knew that she would soon be nodding off. He paid his bill and left the restaurant.
As he had planned, Cheryl soon returned to her room to go to sleep. When she opened the door and entered her room through the little hallway that had the washroom on its side, she threw her purse onto the bed and she was about to turn on one of the lights above the night table beside her bed. She was not aware of the other presence in the room, the powerful older man who had been watching her in the restaurant and who had been laying in wait in the washroom.
She instinctively reached up to the powerful arm that suddenly encircled her and tightly held a moist cloth over her mouth and nose. Her pitiful struggles in her previously weakened state were nothing against the strength of the powerful man who held her and she was soon completely unconscious.
He had gently lowered the unconscious Cheryl Tate onto her bed, preparing to take her to his black BMW parked outside the service stairwell, when there was a knock on the door. He looked through the peep hole and saw a very pretty black African-American girl, clearly another flight attendant, standing in front of the door. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. As quietly as possible, he unlocked the door from within.
“Cheryl, are you okay?”
When the black girl received no answer, she decided to try the door handle to see if she could go into Cheryl’s room. To both her surprise and relief, the door opened and she went into the room. It was dark inside but she could see the outline of her friend’s body on her bed.
“Hmmmmmpf,” she complained as someone behind her suddenly thrust a moist cloth over her mouth and nose. She struggled and kicked but the man holding her was simply too strong. She succumbed to the noxious fumes of the chloroform within a few seconds.
Lynne was the first of the girls to waken. She started to stir as she was being carried over his shoulder into the massive dungeon facility beneath his country estate. She tried to struggle, of course, but she was still groggy from the chloroform and it was of no use. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see some of the dungeon furnishings with their various restraints, but even the sight of those things didn’t yet register in her mind.
He placed her onto a large X-shaped table, lowering her carefully to the baby blue leatherette covering the entire top of the device. He lifted her right arm over her head and attached a black leather restraint to her wrist. She felt the coolness of the metal chain that was attached to the restraint where it touched the back and side of her hand. She snapped to complete awareness when she felt him attaching the second black leather restraint to her left wrist. She looked up at her arm as he was restraining it.
“Oh my God, what the hell are you doing?”
He walked around the table and took a firm hold of Lynne’s right leg, one hand on her ankle and the other just above her knee, and he fastened another black leather restraint around her ankle. She tried to pull her leg away from the waiting restraint and tried to kick at him with her left leg. He then secured her left leg in another black leather restraint as she again tried to pull it away from him. Lynne was completely helpless, spreadeagled and restrained by her wrists and ankles.
“Let me go,” she demanded, as she tried desperately to get loose.
“Now I hardly think that would be appropriate after all of the trouble I’ve gone to in bringing you here. I would prefer that you be quiet for now or I’ll have to put a gag in your mouth. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then be still while I bring in your friend.”
He left the dungeon and soon returned with the unconscious form of Cheryl over his shoulder. She began to awaken when she felt the coolness of the baby blue leatherette covering the second X-shaped table on her back. She started to struggle immediately and he was forced to hold her down onto the table as he secured her wrists and her ankles into black leather restraints, as he had done with Lynne.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“I am going to host you here at my estate for a day or two, since you are both on a crew layover in Tokyo, and provide you with some very special forms of entertainment. I actually intended to invite only you but your black friend came into your room and presented herself like a wonderful little present.”
“I’m no present for you, old man, and I want you to let me go right now or there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“My, such spirit, little black girl! Are you going to start using four letter words any time soon? I would suggest you don’t as I have a very good whip here and I will give you a stroke for every bad word that comes out of your mouth. Is that clear?”
He walked over to her table and bent down toward her face, holding it in the firm grip of his powerful hand.
“Is that clear?”
“Yeah, it’s clear.”
“Now, where shall we begin. I really wanted to spend some time with you,” he said, indicating Cheryl, “but we can’t very well have our little black girl there watching and interfering, can we?”
“I know what we can do to keep her entertained while we get acquainted,” he said, “she’ll get a laugh out of this.”
He slowly untied the laces of her shoes and then slowly removed theme from her feet, placing them on a nearby stainless steel trolley cart. She struggled against her restraints as he gently stroked her feet, still clad in her white socks, carefully but firmly moving his hands over both the tops and bottoms of her feet.
“Does that feel good, little black girl?”
“Go to hell! Leave me alone!”
He slowly peeled off her socks, first the right and then the left, leaving her feet completely exposed. He sat down on a stainless steel stool of the sort that doctors use in their offices, picked up a bowl of thick paste and a basting brush. He started brushing the paste onto the soles of her feet, carefully and thickly covering every part of each foot from the tips of her toes to her heels, then repeating the application two more times as the paste dried quickly.
“What the hell is that,” she asked, as she fought back her giggles.
“I am applying a very thick, salty paste to the soles of your feet.”
“What for?”
“You will find out shortly. I like the way your skin is lighter down here so that I’ll know exactly where to brush on this paste.”
“Stop it, you’re tickling me!”
“In a few minutes, the little tickling sensations you feel now will not be all that significant. Go ahead and laugh if you like.”
“No way, you’d love that I’m sure.”
“As you wish.”
The man fastened a leather restraint around her waist and around each of her legs above the knees. He then moved to a nearby control console and entered some instructions into the computer. The girls heard a slight humming noise and Lynne felt a slight vibration in the table to which she was strapped. The table began to move toward a far wall of the room. It was clearly mounted on tracks imbedded in the floor.
“What the hell?”
“I want to spend some time alone with your friend here, little black girl, but it would be rude if I didn’t provide some entertainment for you. So this table will take you into another chamber beyond that wall. There are a number of animals there that have been on a salt free diet for the last two weeks. They will be more than happy to lick that salty paste off your feet.”
“No, please, that’s going to tickle like hell!”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is. I was told that American women like men who make them laugh. So, I’m going to make you laugh.”
“That’s not what they mean. They want to hear funny stories and laugh at funny situations. They don’t want to be tickled.”
As the doors to the other chamber slid open, Lynne found herself moving into a circular chamber perhaps twelve feet in diameter. The table came to a stop in the very center of the room. She lifted her head and looked around the room. It had nine metal doors, which would slide open in the same way as the entry door, but these doors were only a foot and a half in height and three feet in width.
“Each of these hatches leads into an enclosure with a particular type of animal in it,” he told her over an intercom system, “the table is going to spin like a roulette wheel to determine which one will open for you.”
“Oh, oh, oh,” Lynne said as the table started to move. It was like being on the Wheel of Fortune on television and it spun equally fast. She closed her eyes as she spun around what must have been close to twenty times. It spun really fast for two or three turns and then slowed down by force of gravity until it came to a stop.
“Oh, my God, that was freaky,” she said to herself, “now what?”
She felt the table start to move in the direction her feet were pointed. She read the sign over the small door which read ‘Kobe beef calves’. As her feet reached the little door, it slid open and the top part of the table she was on proceeded into the enclosure. She lifted her head and saw four large calves, about half grown, moving toward her feet.
“No, please get me out of here,” she called out, desperately struggling against her restraints, “they’re coming. Aaaaaaah, pleeheeheese, aaahahahahahaha, they’re lihihicking my feeheeheet.”
The man had turned off the intercom, though, and the doors had closed behind her after she was wheeled into the circular room. Nobody could hear her anymore. She was alone, helplessly strapped down to the X-shaped table with four half-grown calves licking the salty paste, which was now dry, off the soles of her feet.
Cheryl looked at the man standing beside her. He was a man in his early fifties, she surmised, very elegant and articulate, very healthy and powerful, with gray hairs prominently appearing among his black ones, dark brown eyes and an expensive suit with shirt and tie. He stood there for several minutes, looking at her, admiring her.
“I saw you looking at me in the restaurant, you know.”
“Yes, I know that you did because you kept glancing back at me. You were easily the prettiest girl on your crew.”
“Then you know that I’m a flight attendant.”
“Of course, even though you don’t dress like one.”
“I dress like this in the hotel on layovers. We all do.”
“I see.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“Because I wanted to spend a night, perhaps two, with you.”
“Then why didn’t you simply ask me out?”
“Because I am a man in his fifties and you are a girl of twenty four or so. What chance would I have had with you if I approached you and asked you out, especially with almost twenty of your peers around you.”
“Well, no chance at all, I guess.”
He leaned down close to her face and, touching her on the left cheek, told her, “that’s why I had to be a little more inventive.”
“So, what is this place?”
“This is a very complete dungeon built deep underground below my country house, a place I like to refer to as my playroom.”
“I see. What are you going to do to me?”
“That depends largely on you. I have a great passion for tickling young women, a magnificent sexual torture that I often use to introduce a girl to unfathomable sensations that her body and her nervous system are capable of. Your responses will determine the things that I will do to you. May I kiss you?”
“No!”
“Well then, little blonde girl, I’ll have to become a little more persuasive, won’t I?”
He stepped back from the table and removed his suit jacket and his tie, opening the two top buttons on his shirt. He wheeled a stainless steel trolley cart over to the right side of the table she was on. She lifted her head and could see a number of things on the top of the cart, including a pair of scissors, a knife, brushes and feathers. She lowered her head back down.
“This, young lady, is a fude, a Japanese calligraphy pen,” he said, as he held the fude in front of her face, “but it is more like a little pointed brush than a pen, isn’t it? How do you think it would feel to have this little fude moving ever so lightly over your soft pink skin?”
“Whatever!”
“Perhaps I’ll start at the head end with you,” he said, as he moved to the head end of the table and raised a new restraint into place. It had three bars covered in the same baby blue leatherette as the surface of the table. Two of these came to rest along the side of her head above her ears and the third came to rest over the top of her head. He then attached a strap to the end of one of the side pieces, brought it across her forehead, and clipped it to the other side piece. She was now completely unable to move her head from side to side or to lift it from the table. She pulled on her wrist restraints and then on her ankle restraints but the only part that moved even a little was that part of her body from her shoulders to her knees.
“The restraint holding your head is one that was developed by the Chinese for the famous water torture which I might later demonstrate on your little black friend who tried to come to your rescue. For now, its suits our purposes to perfection.”
“Now then, may I kiss you?”
“No!”
“Allow me, then, to introduce you to the fude,” he said, as he lowered the little pointed brush into the hollow at the base of her neck and lightly stroked it along the tendons on both sides of her throat to the point just below her ears. He continued the very light strokes along the tendons, along the middle of her neck to the point below her chin, over and over and over. She tried to move her head, of course, so that her neck wouldn’t be as exposed to his ministrations with the fude.
“So, what do you think, little blonde girl, may I kiss you now?
“No, let me go!”
“Pfft,” she blew threw her nose as he started to tickle her nose with the little fude, then moving onto her ears and, finally, the edges and surfaces of her lips.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to kiss you,” he said, as he continued to tickle her nose, her ears, her lips, below her chin, her neck and her collar bones, “I can continue this for hours. You are so beautiful, little blonde girl. How long do you think you can resist this?”
“You’re torturing me, you know!”
“Yes, I thought so. Are you sure you don’t want me to kiss you on these beautiful, sensitive lips? Would you rather feel the tip of this little brush going across your lips endlessly?”
“God, will you stop it! I can’t stand it anymore!”
“May I kiss you now?”
“Okay, then, kiss me already!”
Slowly he lowered his lips to hers, touching them ever so lightly, allowing the very tip of his tongue to make only the slightest contact with them, giving her the promise of more to come, implanting only the smallest seeds of desire in her subconscious mind. She closed her eyes and drank in the sensations of his lips and his tongue upon hers.
Meanwhile, he could see on a nearby monitor that the black girl had been retracted from the enclosure holding the calves. She was catching her breath now that the tickling of her feet had come to a stop. Her jeans were soaked. The tickling of her feet had been so intense that she wet herself.
“That completes round one,” she heard the man say over the intercom, “I will set the system on a ten minute rest period. Then the next round will commence.”
“No, please, I’ll go out of my mind!”
Her pleas fell on deaf ears, though, since he had already turned off the intercom.
Lynne screamed as the table started to move ten minutes later and she had to endure another spin of the wheel, so to speak. She closed her eyes again so that the spinning of the table wouldn’t make her too dizzy. When it stopped, perhaps fifteen or twenty seconds later, she lifted her head to see where her feet were pointed. The sign over the hatch said leopards. A pad arose from below her feet somewhere and applied paste all over again. From the smell, she could tell it was a fishy paste this time. The top of the table moved into the opening hatch and, after a few anguished seconds of waiting, she felt the cold nose of one of the large cats in the arch of her left foot. Then it started.
“Aaaaah, no, oh, Gohohohod!” she laughed and cried as she felt the long velvety soft tongues of two large felines licking the soles of her feet in long strokes from her heels all the way to her toes. Every once in a while, she could feel one of these powerful tongues forced into the spaces between her toes and the hollow beneath.
“You know, I had not noticed your armpits before, but here they are,” he said, as he started to move the fude around in her left one, “are you ticklish in there?”
“Yes, of course, please don’t do that!”
“But I think that you want men to do that,” he said, as he continued to tickle her armpits, both sides, with two of the little calligraphy brushes, “that must be the reason you wear a sleeveless top like this.”
“Nohoho, it isn’t,” she laughed, “it’s ohohonly because it’s comfortable.”
“I see. I think you can feel this, though. Do you like to be tickled?”
“Nohohoho, I dohohon’t!”
“But why not?”
“Because it tihihickles, that’s why!”
“I understand. You’re having a little trouble talking to me, aren’t you?”
“Stohohop! That’s because you’re mahahaking me laugh.”
“That must be it. Would you like me to kiss you again?”
“Okay, okay, stop it and kiss me then!”
Once again he lowered his lips toward hers. This time, though, he not only lightly kissed her lips and delicately touched her lips with his tongue, he also touched the very tip of her tongue with his as she lifted her mouth toward his ever so slightly. He lifted away from her lips and moved to the head end of the table.
“Forgive me, I am so rude,” he said, as he unfastened the headband and retracted the head restraint back into its place below the table, “we don’t need this anymore, do we?”
“Aaaaah,” she cried suddenly as he again stroked her neck, this time with both of the little calligraphy brushes, held in one hand in a vee pattern, while he cupped his other hand over her right breast. He noticed, of course, that her nipples had become quite hard, engorged with her blood, as she was becoming sexually aroused.
“Perhaps its not time for that quite yet,” he said, as he removed his hand from her breast and moved down to her stomach.
“Aaaah, Gohohod, you’re kihihilling me,” she laughed and cried all at once.
“Did you know that a woman’s stomach is one of her most sensitive areas,” he asked as he moved the fude from side to side over her belly, ranging from her midriff to the waistband of her jeans, carefully avoiding her navel.
“What are you doing,” she asked, as he unbuckled her belt, opened the button on the waistband of her jeans, unfastened her zipper and pulled her pants open.
“There is more of your delicious young stomach in your pants,” he said, as he opened the front of her pants into a v shaped area, “and we want to include that as we work on the rest of your tummy, don’t we?”
“Crap! Hahahahahahaaaaaaa!” she laughed as he moved the tip of the little brush along the edge of her zipper, starting at the bottom and stroking toward the top of her pants. She arched her back and twisted her body from side to side as much as she could but his tickling was relentless. She even bucked her hips up and down as she tried to get away from the terrible little pointed brush.
“Oh, God, nohohoho, heeheeheehee,” she cried as he started to work the fude into her navel, “nohohot my behehelly buhuhutton!”
But he continued to tickle all over her tummy, around and inside her navel, inside the open area formed by her opened pants, endlessly. Cheryl knew she was sopping wet with the juices of her sexual arousal and she hoped beyond hope that the man wasn’t going to notice. He was, of course, well aware of it. He had seen her arousal start when he was tickling her face and neck, with the clenching or her fists and the flexing of her toes. Then, with her hardened nipples straining against the inside of her bra when he was tickling her armpits. Now he could smell her arousal as the aroma came from inside the open zipper of her jeans.
Lynne, meanwhile, had endured another hour of foot tickling in the circular chamber, as the two leopards had thoroughly licked her feet to get every little bit of the fishy paste off them. The table top on which she lay had again retracted to the middle of the chamber and she tried to catch her breath. She had never imagined how terrible such a tickling could be or how much one person could be made to endure. So far, she had had two full hours of intense tickling on her feet.
“No! Please, no!” she cried as the table started to move again. She closed her eyes while the table spun around. She lifted her head to look at the sign above her feet after the table had come to a complete stop. The sign said ‘birds’, and she told herself that wasn’t so bad since birds can’t lick anything. She felt something being sprayed onto the soles of her feet but she couldn’t see what it was. She didn’t know it was birdseed nor that it covered the entire soles of both her feet. The table top started to move and her feet were soon inside the next enclosure. Nothing happened – at first. Then, she felt one of the birds flying around her right foot. Soon, she felt a peck on the sole of her foot. Then, another. And another. She squirmed and struggled, screamed and cried, tears streaming down her face, sweat emanating from her soft black skin, as the pecking went on and on. She thought for sure that she was going to die.
“That was fun, wasn’t it,” the man said to Cheryl, as he kissed her stomach several times, starting at the top, then her navel, then the area within the open zipper of her jeans, deeply inhaling the aroma of her sexual arousal.
“Crap, he knows,” Cheryl said to herself, “now he’s going to want to have sex with me for sure.”
The man brought forth a pair of medical scissors, Lister type bandage scissors to be precise, the large ones used to remove casts from patients in hospitals. He lifted the fabric of her tank top at her midriff, placed the scissors beneath, allowing her to feel the coldness of the metal on her skin, and deftly cut through the fabric from the bottom to the top. He then cut the shoulder portions starting at her armpits and moving inward. He opened her fabric top like to flower and pulled it from beneath her back. He then opened her front-clasp bra and removed it after cutting her bra straps quite carefully at one of the seams. He pulled it from beneath her back, too.
“My, little white girl,” he taunted, stroking his finger over the nipple of her left breast, “what beautiful breasts you have.”
He moved his face down toward hers and lightly kissed her lips again, speaking to her softly,
“What would you like to feel on your lovely breasts, my fude or my lips?”
“I don’t care! Do what you want!” she said defiantly.
“Okay, both it is!”
He took one of the pointed calligraphy brushes in each hand and started to move it all over each breast in a circular manner, starting on her chest and slowly working his way toward her nipples.
“You’re moving too much to my liking,” he said, moving back to the computer console, “I’m going to have to fix that before we go on.”
Cheryl heard a whirring sound from beneath her. She looked up at her arms and saw the slack in the chains leading to her wrist restraints being taken up. She soon felt her arms being moved further up over her head. The muscles in her upper arms, shoulders and chest started to tighten and her breasts started to lift as her arms were pulled further and further over her had. Before long, she felt her legs being stretched and the restraints around her ankles tightening to hold her by the heels. Tighter and tighter she was being stretched by the machine that was built into the table. Then, perhaps a moment before it was going to cause her any pain, the stretching stopped. She was now so tightly stretched, though, that she couldn’t move any part of her body, and her breasts rose high up on her chest as they reached toward the ceiling.
He again started to stroke her breasts in circular motions right at the base, where each one met her chest, moving ever so slowly toward her nipples. He was so patient and so thorough, though, that the entire process to reach her nipples took some twenty minutes.
“Ah! Oh! Ah!”
The movement of the brushes over the skin of her breasts, though, didn’t do as much to tickle her as it did to bring her that much further into sexual arousal. She winced her eyes and grit her teeth as she felt the two little pointed brushes stroke her swollen nipples, over and over and over. Extended as they were, because of the swelling and the stretching of her body, her nipples even began to hurt.
“My God! Ah! Oh! My God!”
“What is it, little blonde girl,” he asked as he lowered his face to hers, kissing her lightly on the lips.
“You’re arousing me. I want to come! Please let me come!”
“How can I do that? Your jeans are still on.”
“Oh, God! Take them off! Cut them off! Whatever! I just want to come!”
“If I do that, what will you do for me?” he asked, as he reached back to her right nipple and continued stroking it with the fude.
“Anything! My God, let me come! I’ll blow you, or have sex with you! Anything! Please, let me come!”
He moved to her stomach and pushed his right hand into her pants, through the open zipper area, reaching into her genital area. He felt the wetness of her arousal and started to massage her clitoris and rub his hand over her pussy. His hands were quite soft and free of blemishes because he always took good care of them and used lotion several times each day.
“Oh! Yes! Yes, yes! Oh, oh, oh! Aaaaaaah!” she cried as he manipulated her into the throes of a magnificent sexual climax.
Lynne, meanwhile, had finished her session with the birds in the circular chamber. All she could do was lie still on the table until the next round of tickling torture would begin. She didn’t have to wait long. As the table began to spin again, she wondered how long this was going to go on. Soon, though, with a new meaty sauce on the soles of her feet, her attention was taken up by several large dogs in the next enclosure.
“I noticed something about you while I was doing that,” the man said, “you still have your shoes on. That’s very rude, you know! You are in Japan after all.”
“You carried me in here,” she said, as she lifted her head to look at her feet, “and then you put me on here.”
“Perhaps then you should have informed me of that,” he said, as he untied her laces and removed her shoes.
“You have very pretty little feet,” he said, as he stroked them lightly and tickled along the soles of her socks.”
“Hahaha, dohohon’t.”
“Ah, your little feet are ticklish,” he said, removing her socks while he sat down on the wheeled stainless steel stool.
“It’s so sad!”
“What’s so sad?”
“That the little calligraphy brushes are tired of tickling you already.”
“So don’t tickle me anymore!”
“Oh no, that would never do. I do hope your feet are clean,” he said, as he brought his nose down to her toes and inhaled deeply.
“Of course, my feet are clean. What do you think?”
“Well, I think I have to find a way to tickle them. I can’t use the calligraphy brushes anymore and your friend is in the next room tying up my animals who are quite busy licking the soles of her feet. I think she’s in her fourth hour now. Oh, wait, I know! I can use my tongue, the same as the animals.”
“Hahahahaaa! Nohohoho!”
“You know what?”
“Whatever!”
“No, seriously, this is a problem. Since I stretched you a while ago, your feet have been tightly restrained by the ankles here and you can’t move them at all. I’ll have to relax the tension in your body a little before I start.”
“There,” he said as he bent down over her lips again, kissing her lightly, having released the tension the rachets in the table had placed on her body, “that’s better.”
“No! No! Nohohohahaha!” she laughed, as he brought her toes into his mouth and started licking them, flicking his tongue along the bottom, into the hollows beneath, over the tips, into the spaces between and over the tops. He then moved to the insteps and arches of her feet, flicking and licking relentlessly as Cheryl tried to struggle as best she could.
After some time, he stopped licking her feet and her toes. He rose to his feet and released the restraints on Cheryl’s ankles. He moved in between her legs, lifted her feet and placed her ankles on his shoulders. He then reached up to her belt, at the side of her jeans, and pulled her jeans down her legs and over her feet. He then kissed the insides of her thighs, replaced her ankles on his shoulders and removed her panties in the same manner as her jeans.
“Now, little blonde girl, I’ll give you a choice.”
“What choice?”
“I can strap your legs down again and tickle your feet with an electric toothbrush or I can leave them loose like this and perform oral sex on you. You’re so wet that you’ll love that but you’ll have to ask for it.”
“Okay, I’ll ask for it. Please suck my snatch.”
“What? I’ve never heard such language from a beautiful girl, or an ugly one for that matter.”
“Okay, okay, please lick my pussy.”
“There, you see, that’s much better.”
“Oh, my God,” she cried as the sensations of his tongue on her pussy registered in her brain. With his years of experience, and the bondage situation she was in, it didn’t take Cheryl long to climax again. While she was in her orgasm, he licked her asshole and really drove her over the edge as he applied the pressure of his tongue to her sphincter and then inserted a moistened anal stimulator.
He replaced her legs into the ankle restraints and secured them. He moved to the control console and entered several lines of instruction to lower a large vibrator down from the ceiling above her, rest it against her pussy and leave it on.
“I’m afraid I have to attend to your friend, the little black girl, now. This vibrator will keep you amused while I am gone, though.”
“No, don’t leave that there, please!”
“Oh, come now, what’s a little vibrator going to do after all you’ve already been through. Lie back, relax and enjoy yourself.”
“How can I enjoy myself with that thing leaning up against my pussy like that. It’s going to drive me nuts.”
“I doubt that. I do think that you’re going to make too much noise, though, so I’m going to return your panties to you,” he said, as he pushed her panties into her mouth, “open your mouth.”
“Mmmmmph, plmmmms nmmmmmm, mmmmmph.”
“Well, well, if it isn’t the little black girl coming back from her trip to the zoo,” he taunted as the wheeled and tracked table holding Lynne came back into the chamber, “my, your feet are so clean.”
“Go to hell! What did you do that for? I damn near died in there!”
“Oh, please don’t exaggerate,” he said, as he unstrapped her legs, “but I do believe you wet yourself. I’ll have to remove your pants.”
“No,” she complained as she tried to kick him while he was lifting her legs onto his shoulders. He had anticipated that, though, and sidestepped her kick.
“If you don’t cooperate, I’ll send you back into the other room and you can visit the remaining five enclosures. Would you like that?”
“No, please don’t.”
“Okay, then, we’ll try it one more time.”
Lynne allowed him to put her ankles on his shoulders, to unbuckle her belt, open the button and unzip her pants. She lifted her ass slightly as he pulled her pants down and she allowed him to slide them down her legs and over her feet. She allowed him to take off her panties in the same way.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked while he was filling a bowl with warm, soapy water at a sink nearby. He returned with the bowl, a washcloth and a thick towel.
“I am doing this,” he said, as he dipped the washcloth in the water and started to wash her genitals, her upper thighs and her ass, “because I love to see beautiful young girls in restraints being driven to the greatest heights of ecstasy, to be with them and to make love to them.”
“You could have asked us, you know.”
“Sure, and then what? Would you have come with me?”
“If I knew what you were going to do to us, I would have.”
“Of course, but that’s not the real world, is it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Hahahaha, not my feeheeheet,” she laughed as he washed them with the warm soapy water.
“You want your feet to be clean, don’t you? All those animals licked your feet with salt paste, fish paste and meat paste all over them, not to mention the birdseed. I don’t mind telling you that your feet stink right now.”
“Why, I don’t have any foot smell!”
“No, you don’t, but there is a fish smell that I want to wash off.”
“There, no you can live with yourself again.”
He lowered her legs back down onto the table and refastened the restraints. Then he lowered his lips down close to hers and held her face in his hand.
“You know, I could stick an anal stimulator up your ass and set up a vibrator like your friend there so that you could have any number of orgasms and thrash around on this table like a fish out of water. But we’re not going to do that, are we,” he asked in a teasing manner while moving her face from side to side like she was saying no.
“Or do you want that?”
“No, I don’t want that.”
“Okay, little black girl, then would you like to kiss me?”
She moved her lips closer to his and opened them to reveal her pink tongue. She kissed him as best she could, since she could only lift her head so high from the table. He kissed her lips lightly at first and touched the tip of her tongue with his.
He picked the scissors up from the trolley nearby and used them to cut away her t-shirt and her bra, leaving her completely naked. Her nipples were quite firm but not nearly as hard as those of the other girl previously.
“I don’t think your body is ready for love yet, young lady,” he said, “but I have a little thing that will change that very quickly. It doesn’t work on all girls but I’ll just bet its going to work on you.”
She watched helplessly as he put on two leather gloves. There were wires coming out of each glove and these led to a square battery pack attached to his wrists.
“What are those? Are you going to beat me?”
“No, I’m not going to beat you. You don’t really think that I want to hurt you, do you?”
“No, not really, but those gloves look so mean.”
“These are called fukuoku massage gloves. They have little vibrators in all of the fingertips which are designed to provide a stimulating and sensual massage when used at the low speed. At the highest speed, though, and with a very light touch, they tickle more than you can imagine.”
“Please, don’t tickle me anymore.”
“I’m afraid you’re not aroused sufficiently to interest me as yet,” he explained, as she heard the soft humming from the vibrators in the fingertips of the leather gloves, “but this will change that.”
“So where shall we start,” he asked, as he touched the tip of her nose with one of the fingertips, “should be go straight to your breasts? Perhaps your armpits? No, I have a better idea.”
“Aaaaah! Shihihihit! Nohohohoho!”
He applied his left hand to her stomach and his right hand to her neck at the same time. For several minutes, he continued to tickle these very sensitive areas as she fought desperately to get away from the touch of the fukuoku gloves. She squirmed and struggled, twisting her body as much as she could, while the tickling continued. After that, he moved the gloves along her sides, moving them repeatedly from her lower abdomen to her armpits and her upper arms. She laughed and screamed continuously as the tickling continued relentlessly.
It was half an hour before he moved the gloves with the vibrating fingertips to her legs and her feet. Lynne howled and laughed as he tickled her legs, moving from the soles of her feet along the insides of her legs to her upper thighs and back down the outsides of her legs over and over again. He loved her feet, as he does with all young women, and held them in his vibrating hands at length.
By the time another half hour had passed, he used the right hand on her breasts and the left hand on her pussy driving her higher and higher into sexual arousal. She was so wet inside that the juices of her arousal were oozing out of her.
“Now, little black girl, I think you’re ready,” he said, as he released her from the table, “I would suggest that you behave yourself since you are at a remote country home in a strange place and your friend is still strapped to that table.”
“I will. Are you going to have sex with me now?”
“That’s up to you. You can come to another room with me and do that, or you can be strapped to that chair over there with an entire bank of assorted dildos built into it. Your choice.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Mmmmmmmmpf, mmmmmmpf.”
“It’s okay little blonde girl, we’ll only be gone for an hour or two,” he said, as he left the sweating, straining flight attendant on the big X-shaped table, naked and spreadeagled, with an anal stimulator up her ass and a vibrator continuously working on her pussy. No matter what Cheryl did to relieve the strain, or to take her mind off the torment, the vibrator continued to bring her to climax, over and over again.
After an hour or so, Lynne and the man returned to the dungeon. He removed the vibrator from the cable holding it and placed it upon the little trolley. He massaged her swollen clitoris delicately as he slowly pulled the anal stimulator out of her ass. She shook her head negatively but there was nothing she could do to stop him. He released her restraints and helped her to sit up on the table.
“Come, let’s go to the bath. After that we can have something to eat and go to sleep.”
Both of the girls awakened in Cheryl’s hotel room later that day. On the table, near the telephone, were two envelopes containing ten thousand dollars, one for each of them, and a card with a telephone number.
*** Please give some comments on this story - it means so much to me ***
