tkl-pen
1st Level Orange Feather
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- Dec 30, 2001
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THE TICKLISH TRAVELS OF RACHEL COOK
PART SIX – BACK IN TOKYO
“I am so sorry, Miss Cook, there has been a booking problem with this flight and we can accommodate one of you, either yourself or your travel partner. We have a seat available on our Honolulu flight tomorrow night, though, and we will provide hotel accommodation and meals in the meantime. Now I need to know which of you will fly today, and which of you will stay in Tokyo overnight.”
“I think that I should stay overnight, Ed,” said Rachel, “so that you can look after the equipment. It’s already on the plane. I’ll just sleep and lay around the hotel pool while I wait for my flight. I’ll be okay.”
It was an unexpected problem with the airline. Rachel and her cameraman were on a flight from Hon Chi Minh City, formerly Saigon, enroute to their next stop in Hawaii. This required a change of planes at Tokyo International Airport. When they arrived in Tokyo to check in for the Honolulu flight, however, there had been a booking error and only one seat was available on the plane to Honolulu. One of the two would have to overnight at Narita and take the late evening flight to Hawaii on the following day. Rachel decided that Ed should go ahead, since the camera and his equipment were already on the plane. The customer agent gave Rachel a voucher for the ride to the hotel, which was only five minutes or so from the terminal.
The car was already waiting for Rachel when she made her way down to the arrivals level. All she had, of course, was her carryon bag and her purse, since her luggage had gone on to Honolulu. It wasn’t too bad, though, since she had the cosmetics she needed, her toothbrush and her nightie in the carryon bag. It was quite a nice car – a large Toyota with a partition between the driver and the passengers. Rachel did not notice that doors locked and a gas started to enter the passenger compartment. Moments later, she yawned and fell asleep.
When she woke up, Rachel found herself in the sidecar of a motorcycle, which had a completely closed compartment with a tinted windshield. Her wrists had been placed in leather restraints behind her back and a seatbelt held her perfectly in place. She tried to get loose, but that was of no avail. Her hands were perfectly held behind her back and the seatbelt held her in her seat. She could not see who was driving the motorcycle as there was no window on the side where the motorcycle was attached. She had no choice but to sit in the sidecar and watch the signs and buildings go by. After about forty minutes, the same kind of gas put her to sleep again.
A little while later, Rachel began to stir. To her it seemed that no time had passed at all. She had no dreams or thoughts or sense of time while she was unconscious. But she was immediately aware that she was flat on her back in a spreadeagle position – her hands up past her head and her legs spread widely apart. Her eyes flashed open and she immediately realized she was naked too.
Yasuhiro Kato, the Japanese billionaire who had tickled her for hours in her hotel when she had been in Tokyo three weeks earlier was seated near the table to which she was secured. He was just watching her. Rachel looked around, first up at her wrists, then down at her legs, and then, when she noticed him, at him. She saw her clothes neatly folded on a cart nearby. She pulled her arms and legs to try to release herself but this was of no avail. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“Well, well,” said the man, not moving from his chair, “you’re awake.”
“You again! Where am I?” she asked. “What the hell do you want with me? Give me my clothes and let me go.”
“Not so fast, young lady,” he said, as he watched her chest rise and fall, and the muscles in her arms and legs straining against her bonds, “I went to a lot of trouble, and considerable expense, to bring you here.”
“And just where is this?” she asked.
“This is my home,” he said, “and we are in a special sexual laboratory that I have constructed underground for the entertainment of young women like yourself, as well as for the development of my own knowledge of God’s greatest invention, the perfectly beautiful and sensitive female body.”
“Shit, didn’t you do enough to me at the hotel three weeks ago?”
“Heavens no,” he said, “that was only an introduction – I simply wanted to see if you were ticklish enough to bring to my laboratory.”
“You mean that you planned all this,” she asked, “like me not getting on the plane at the airport and the car waiting for me?”
“Yes, I did all that so that I could spend a little more time with you.”
“I see,” said Rachel, “in that case let’s just get it over with so that I can go back to my hotel.”
“My, your bravado is admirable,” he taunted, “but I think you’ll soon change your tune.”
“You can’t do any worse than some of the tickling I’ve had the last few weeks!”
“You think so, do you,” he said, holding up a long, colourful feather, “I believe I have the finest collection of feathers in all of Japan, and many of them have been specially treated to make them that much more stimulating. I have cut off the very soft outer edges to leave only the stiffer bristly portion inside and then applied a special coat of chemicals that I have developed for this purpose.”
“Oh, well,” she said, “do your worst.”
“Perhaps we’ll just start with these big American tits,” he said, as he started drawing the stiff feather across the baseline of her left breast, “concentrating on them like this for the first hour or two, drawing the feather across from side to side like this, moving a tiny millimetre closer up your breast and closer to your nipple with a longer and harder stroke each time.”
“I don’t feel much,” taunted Rachel, biting her lower lip in a way that he wouldn’t see it, “is that the best you can do.”
“All things come to those who wait, Miss Cook,” he said, as he continued to draw the feather across her breasts in ever longer and firmer strokes. Rachel’s nipples were getting harder and she was starting to struggle against her restraints a little more.
“Ah,” he said, “I see your body is starting to betray you – there is no woman in the world who can resist this treatment for more than a few minutes.”
Rachel started to scream as the feather continued to stroke across each of her breast, one stroke after the other, relentlessly. The top portion of her left breast, then the right one – the bottom portion of her left breast, then the right one.
“Shihihihit, you’re driving me crazy,” she said, “it feels like my tits are going to explode. Aaaaaaah, please stop! I can’t stand it.”
“You see, Miss Cook, only a few hundred strokes of a single feather across your breasts and you’re already begging me to stop. Unfortunately, that was only a warm-up. The tip of this feather, like its long edge, has the ability to generate some interesting reactions. I’ll show you.”
“Aaaaaahahahahaha,” Rachel screamed and laughed as he brought the very tip of the feather to bear in her armpit. She was incredibly ticklish under her arms and this was the worst – her armpit held open and assaulted with the stiff feather.
“Stohohohohop! Hahahahahaha! Ohohohoho! Shihihihihit!”
“Well, well,” he said, “that was fun – an hour on your breasts and an hour on your armpits. So what shall we do next?”
“It’s enough already,” said Rachel, sweaty and tired, “let me go now.”
“Good heavens, Miss Cook, how can you say that after all the trouble I went to?”
“Oh, shihihihit, nohoho,” she cried, as she felt the feather move from side to side across her tummy, “not thehehehere!”
It was there, though, over and over again from side to side across her stomach, her abdomen, the creases at the top of her thighs, and the tip of the feather deeply into her belly button. She bucked and arched her back as much as she could to dislodge the tip of the feather out of her navel every time he put it in there, gently turning it all around the inside of her ticklish belly button.
“Nohohoho, pleaheaheahease,” she cried and laughed all at the same time, “nohoho, shihihihit!”
Suddenly, she wet herself. It had been some hours since she had been taken from the airport, and three hours of tickling already, she had to piss. Under normal circumstances, she would concentrate on holding her water until she could find a toilet. But with the tickling that she was forced to endure, concentration was impossible and her urine came flowing out of her in a powerful stream onto the floor, through the space left by her parted legs.
“Now that’s not very nice, Miss Cook,” he said, “you are a guest in my home, and I went to a lot of trouble to bring you here, and to thank me you piss on my floor.”
“Go to hell,” she said, “I can’t hold it forever!”
“Such language from such a pretty girl,” he said, “tut – tut, Miss Cook, you should be ashamed.”
“Look at your ribs here,” he said, as he started drawing the feather from top to bottom through the fleshier spaces between Rachel’s ribs. She nearly went nuts from the sudden, unexpected sensation on her side.
“Aaaahahahaha, fuhuhuhuck youhouhouhou!”
“My, that’s a good spot,” he said, as he brought out a small vibrator and started to work it into her armpit while he used the feather on her ribs, “perhaps I’ll just use the feather there and my other little friend here in your armpit.”
“Aaaaaahahahah, shihihihit, you’re going to kihihihihill meheeheehee!”
Suddenly, another stream of golden yellow urine came flying out of Rachel, again landing on the floor. After a while, Master Kato stopped tickling Rachel for a few minutes to clean the floor with a mop. He even dried it. He then cleaned Rachel’s genitals with an alcohol wet wipe.
“My, my, Miss Cook,” he observed, “you appear to be awfully wet inside – did I arouse you with my little bit of tickling? Look at your nipples, too – I never imagined they could get that big.”
“I’ll just bet the soft inside of your thighs is going to be very sensitive by now,” he said, as he started to stroke the inside of each thigh with the feather. He touched the back of each knee with the vibrator, then stroked the vibrator along the tops of her thighs as he continued the stroking of the feather along the inner surfaces.
“Shihihihit, aaaaaaaaaah!” Rachel cried, “Oh, God, please let me come! I have to come! Oooooooooh!”
“Perhaps you would like me to touch your pussy with this vibrator,” he said, as he moved the device along the outer edges of her genital lips, tickling the fleshy part of her butt that he could access from his position between her legs.
“Please, oh God, please,” she pleaded, trying to move herself down onto the shaft of the vibrator, “please put it in.”
“Oh, good heavens, Miss Cook,” he said, “we haven’t even finished your tickling adventure yet. How can you possibly proposition me like that?”
“Aaaaaaahahahahaha!” she laughed, as she felt the tickling start on the sole of her left foot, “not my feeheeheeheet, shihihihihit, nohohoho.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaah,” she screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt the tip of another device, a hummingbird, touch the sole of her foot right where the little crease that divides the ball of her foot meets the instep. She lost control of her water again and a golden stream of her urine hit Master Kato directly in the face before he could get out of the way.
“So that’s the way you repay my hospitality, Miss Cook,” he said, wiping off his face with a moist towel, “we’ll just have to spend an extra hour with these beautiful little feet of yours. Let’s try this little hummingbird on your heels.”
“Nooooohohoho, ahahahahahaha!”
On and on the tickling went, using the hummingbird, as well as the feather and the vibrator on every part of her feet. She nearly went ballistic when he used the hummingbird on her toes and the vibrator underneath her toes at the same time. She had nothing left anymore – she laughed but she couldn’t even plead anymore. Seven hours of continuous tickling had broken her. She was sweaty, exhausted, out-of-breath and badly aroused. She had no strength anymore.
Master Kato left the room. He went to the big Japanese tile bath that he had up on another floor of the house, ensuite to his master bedroom. He filled the bath with perfectly warm water, beautifully fragranced bubble bath and expensive bath oils. He took off his clothes and put on a yukata bath robe. Then he went back downstairs to his tickling laboratory.
He unfastened the leather restraints from Rachel’s ankles, knees, waist, neck, elbows and wrists, and lifted her into his arms.
“What,” she said, “what are you doing?”
“Taking you to a better place,” he said, “put your arms around my neck.”
Rachel was too exhausted to fight him. She simply obeyed and put her arms around his neck as he carried her up to the bath. He gently lowered Rachel into the very pleasant warm water with its bubbles and its silky soft bath oil. He then supported her with one hand while he took off his yukata bath robe with the other. He lowered himself into the water behind her, and allowed her to lie down on his lap.
With a little hand held shower head, he wet her long blonde hair with warm water, stroking it gently as he did so. He applied some thick, luxurious shampoo from Shiseido, with their beautiful Zen fragrance, to her hair. With long, gentle strokes of his hand from her forehead to the back of her neck, he generously applied the shampoo and massaged her scalp. He even ran his hands gently from her temples, in front of her ears, over her ears and into her neck. Rachel just let her head lay back and exalted in the pampering, moaning softly as he continued to stroke and massage her. He then rinsed her hair and applied more shampoo to finish washing her hair.
After that, he picked up a sponge and a large bar of scented soap, the same Zen fragrance from Shiseido as the shampoo, and gently applied soap to every part of her body, washing each special part of her separately. As she lay on his lap, he lifted one of her arms and washed all around her armpit, shoulder, neck, chest and side. Then the other arm. Next, he lifted her to a sitting position and longingly lathered her back, washing and massaging her whole back from her neck to her ass, carefully massaging all of the muscles as he did so. He lowered her back down onto his lap and washed her breasts, her tummy, and her abdomen. Rachel simply lay down on his lap, all of her body from the neck down in the soft, scented oily warm water, moaning and almost purring like a kitten.
He lifted her right leg and washed it from her toes to the top of her thigh, then moving the soapy spongy to her genitals, causing her to gyrate her hips. He then finished her bath by doing the other leg from her toes to her thighs as well. He let the water run out of the bath and continued to hold her as he dried her throroughly with soft, thick towels. It took a while to dry her hair properly but he continued to apply the towels to one handful of long blonde hair at a time.
When he was finished, and had washed himself all along too, he picked up Rachel and carried her to his big king size bed in the master bedroom. He gently lowered her to the surface of the bed, laying her on the dark red satin sheet, and covered her with a matching sheet and a soft, warm goose down quilt. He held her for several hours as she slept, occasionally feeling a little tic in her arm or leg as her nervous system remembered what had happened to her earlier. She rolled over onto her right side and he put his arm around her, cuddled up to her back as she slept.
“Why did you do that to me?” she asked when she wakened.
“Because you are so beautiful,” he said, “I love to tickle beautiful young women.”
“My God, I never had any idea how intense that could be. The only thing now is that I’m so aroused you have to finish me. I know you’re a lot older than I am but do you think you can do it for me?”
“Is that the way you ask for sex, Miss Cook,” he teased, “by insulting the man you propose to have sex with?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, “it’s just that I’m only twenty five years old and you must be twice that. So, it might not be the same for you as it was a long time ago.”
“Now I’m not so sure I want to have sex with you, young lady.”
“Shit, I’m naked in your bed with you!”
“I did notice that,” he said, “I knew there was something different about you.”
Rachel climbed right on top of Master Koto, gyrated her hips and made him bring her to climax three times, each one a fist-clenching, toe-curling orgasm like she had never had.
“Can I ask you something, Miss Cook?”
“Sure, of course.”
“What happened to your pubic hair,” he asked, “you were well endowned with it when I saw you at the hotel but now there’s nearly nothing there – it looks as though it’s been chopped off.”
“When I was in Hong Kong, after I left Japan last time, I was invited to a little Chinese restaurant after they closed. They fed me a nice meal with three bottles of Chinese beer and then, when it got to me, they put me on one of those big stainless steel kitchen work tables and tickled the crap out of me. The first thing they did, though, was shave my pubic hair with a meat cleaver.”
“A meat cleaver?” he noted, “I’ll bet that hurt.”
“Oh, shit, it was awful,” she said, “you can imagine dry shaving yourself on the face, even being used to shaving. My pubic area was a lot more sensitive than your face would be.”
“And a meat cleaver wouldn’t be as sharp as a razor, either.”
“No,” she said, “and he just kept dragging it across my pubic mound over and over until the hair was gone. I even pissed myself – it hurt so much.”
“So, are you angry with me for bringing you here?”
“I was at first,” she said, “but now I’m kind of happy I met you.”
“Not simply because I let you rape me just now?”
“No,” she said, “and I didn’t rape you – you aroused me to the point that I didn’t know what I was doing!”
“That’s still no excuse for raping a helpless older gentleman.”
“Oh, well,” she said, “too bad! You’re the one who brought me here.”
“I’ll tell you what, Miss Cook,” he started.
“Shit, will you please call me Rachel!”
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll tell you what, Rachel, how about I take you out to dinner. We can still make it to the best steak house in all Japan before eight o’clock. It’s called the Aragawa Restaurant, in Tokyo.”
After dinner, Master Kato offered to take Rachel back to her hotel, but she asked if she could come back to his house with him. They slept together that night, got up late the following morning and had a special breakfast that he made for her. They spent a wonderful day together, riding bicycles around the Matsudo neighbourhood where his home was located, had a lunch of ramen noodles along the way, spent some time in the swimming pool by his house, and cooked a lovely dinner together, the cook and the billionaire, in the kitchen together.
At the airport, Rachel asked, “Hiro, will I ever see you again?”
“You can come and see me any time you like, Rachel,” he said, “here is a special telephone number where you can call me, whether you just want to talk or come for a few days. There will always be a plane ticket ready for you.”
“Wow, thank you for everything.”
“Bye, now,” he said, “have a nice flight to Hawaii.”
She kissed him, with tears in her eyes. Then she turned to go through security and out to her plane.
She turned around to look, as he waved at her, saying to himself, “bye now, sweet one, until we meet again.”
PART SIX – BACK IN TOKYO
“I am so sorry, Miss Cook, there has been a booking problem with this flight and we can accommodate one of you, either yourself or your travel partner. We have a seat available on our Honolulu flight tomorrow night, though, and we will provide hotel accommodation and meals in the meantime. Now I need to know which of you will fly today, and which of you will stay in Tokyo overnight.”
“I think that I should stay overnight, Ed,” said Rachel, “so that you can look after the equipment. It’s already on the plane. I’ll just sleep and lay around the hotel pool while I wait for my flight. I’ll be okay.”
It was an unexpected problem with the airline. Rachel and her cameraman were on a flight from Hon Chi Minh City, formerly Saigon, enroute to their next stop in Hawaii. This required a change of planes at Tokyo International Airport. When they arrived in Tokyo to check in for the Honolulu flight, however, there had been a booking error and only one seat was available on the plane to Honolulu. One of the two would have to overnight at Narita and take the late evening flight to Hawaii on the following day. Rachel decided that Ed should go ahead, since the camera and his equipment were already on the plane. The customer agent gave Rachel a voucher for the ride to the hotel, which was only five minutes or so from the terminal.
The car was already waiting for Rachel when she made her way down to the arrivals level. All she had, of course, was her carryon bag and her purse, since her luggage had gone on to Honolulu. It wasn’t too bad, though, since she had the cosmetics she needed, her toothbrush and her nightie in the carryon bag. It was quite a nice car – a large Toyota with a partition between the driver and the passengers. Rachel did not notice that doors locked and a gas started to enter the passenger compartment. Moments later, she yawned and fell asleep.
When she woke up, Rachel found herself in the sidecar of a motorcycle, which had a completely closed compartment with a tinted windshield. Her wrists had been placed in leather restraints behind her back and a seatbelt held her perfectly in place. She tried to get loose, but that was of no avail. Her hands were perfectly held behind her back and the seatbelt held her in her seat. She could not see who was driving the motorcycle as there was no window on the side where the motorcycle was attached. She had no choice but to sit in the sidecar and watch the signs and buildings go by. After about forty minutes, the same kind of gas put her to sleep again.
A little while later, Rachel began to stir. To her it seemed that no time had passed at all. She had no dreams or thoughts or sense of time while she was unconscious. But she was immediately aware that she was flat on her back in a spreadeagle position – her hands up past her head and her legs spread widely apart. Her eyes flashed open and she immediately realized she was naked too.
Yasuhiro Kato, the Japanese billionaire who had tickled her for hours in her hotel when she had been in Tokyo three weeks earlier was seated near the table to which she was secured. He was just watching her. Rachel looked around, first up at her wrists, then down at her legs, and then, when she noticed him, at him. She saw her clothes neatly folded on a cart nearby. She pulled her arms and legs to try to release herself but this was of no avail. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“Well, well,” said the man, not moving from his chair, “you’re awake.”
“You again! Where am I?” she asked. “What the hell do you want with me? Give me my clothes and let me go.”
“Not so fast, young lady,” he said, as he watched her chest rise and fall, and the muscles in her arms and legs straining against her bonds, “I went to a lot of trouble, and considerable expense, to bring you here.”
“And just where is this?” she asked.
“This is my home,” he said, “and we are in a special sexual laboratory that I have constructed underground for the entertainment of young women like yourself, as well as for the development of my own knowledge of God’s greatest invention, the perfectly beautiful and sensitive female body.”
“Shit, didn’t you do enough to me at the hotel three weeks ago?”
“Heavens no,” he said, “that was only an introduction – I simply wanted to see if you were ticklish enough to bring to my laboratory.”
“You mean that you planned all this,” she asked, “like me not getting on the plane at the airport and the car waiting for me?”
“Yes, I did all that so that I could spend a little more time with you.”
“I see,” said Rachel, “in that case let’s just get it over with so that I can go back to my hotel.”
“My, your bravado is admirable,” he taunted, “but I think you’ll soon change your tune.”
“You can’t do any worse than some of the tickling I’ve had the last few weeks!”
“You think so, do you,” he said, holding up a long, colourful feather, “I believe I have the finest collection of feathers in all of Japan, and many of them have been specially treated to make them that much more stimulating. I have cut off the very soft outer edges to leave only the stiffer bristly portion inside and then applied a special coat of chemicals that I have developed for this purpose.”
“Oh, well,” she said, “do your worst.”
“Perhaps we’ll just start with these big American tits,” he said, as he started drawing the stiff feather across the baseline of her left breast, “concentrating on them like this for the first hour or two, drawing the feather across from side to side like this, moving a tiny millimetre closer up your breast and closer to your nipple with a longer and harder stroke each time.”
“I don’t feel much,” taunted Rachel, biting her lower lip in a way that he wouldn’t see it, “is that the best you can do.”
“All things come to those who wait, Miss Cook,” he said, as he continued to draw the feather across her breasts in ever longer and firmer strokes. Rachel’s nipples were getting harder and she was starting to struggle against her restraints a little more.
“Ah,” he said, “I see your body is starting to betray you – there is no woman in the world who can resist this treatment for more than a few minutes.”
Rachel started to scream as the feather continued to stroke across each of her breast, one stroke after the other, relentlessly. The top portion of her left breast, then the right one – the bottom portion of her left breast, then the right one.
“Shihihihit, you’re driving me crazy,” she said, “it feels like my tits are going to explode. Aaaaaaah, please stop! I can’t stand it.”
“You see, Miss Cook, only a few hundred strokes of a single feather across your breasts and you’re already begging me to stop. Unfortunately, that was only a warm-up. The tip of this feather, like its long edge, has the ability to generate some interesting reactions. I’ll show you.”
“Aaaaaahahahahaha,” Rachel screamed and laughed as he brought the very tip of the feather to bear in her armpit. She was incredibly ticklish under her arms and this was the worst – her armpit held open and assaulted with the stiff feather.
“Stohohohohop! Hahahahahaha! Ohohohoho! Shihihihihit!”
“Well, well,” he said, “that was fun – an hour on your breasts and an hour on your armpits. So what shall we do next?”
“It’s enough already,” said Rachel, sweaty and tired, “let me go now.”
“Good heavens, Miss Cook, how can you say that after all the trouble I went to?”
“Oh, shihihihit, nohoho,” she cried, as she felt the feather move from side to side across her tummy, “not thehehehere!”
It was there, though, over and over again from side to side across her stomach, her abdomen, the creases at the top of her thighs, and the tip of the feather deeply into her belly button. She bucked and arched her back as much as she could to dislodge the tip of the feather out of her navel every time he put it in there, gently turning it all around the inside of her ticklish belly button.
“Nohohoho, pleaheaheahease,” she cried and laughed all at the same time, “nohoho, shihihihit!”
Suddenly, she wet herself. It had been some hours since she had been taken from the airport, and three hours of tickling already, she had to piss. Under normal circumstances, she would concentrate on holding her water until she could find a toilet. But with the tickling that she was forced to endure, concentration was impossible and her urine came flowing out of her in a powerful stream onto the floor, through the space left by her parted legs.
“Now that’s not very nice, Miss Cook,” he said, “you are a guest in my home, and I went to a lot of trouble to bring you here, and to thank me you piss on my floor.”
“Go to hell,” she said, “I can’t hold it forever!”
“Such language from such a pretty girl,” he said, “tut – tut, Miss Cook, you should be ashamed.”
“Look at your ribs here,” he said, as he started drawing the feather from top to bottom through the fleshier spaces between Rachel’s ribs. She nearly went nuts from the sudden, unexpected sensation on her side.
“Aaaahahahaha, fuhuhuhuck youhouhouhou!”
“My, that’s a good spot,” he said, as he brought out a small vibrator and started to work it into her armpit while he used the feather on her ribs, “perhaps I’ll just use the feather there and my other little friend here in your armpit.”
“Aaaaaahahahah, shihihihit, you’re going to kihihihihill meheeheehee!”
Suddenly, another stream of golden yellow urine came flying out of Rachel, again landing on the floor. After a while, Master Kato stopped tickling Rachel for a few minutes to clean the floor with a mop. He even dried it. He then cleaned Rachel’s genitals with an alcohol wet wipe.
“My, my, Miss Cook,” he observed, “you appear to be awfully wet inside – did I arouse you with my little bit of tickling? Look at your nipples, too – I never imagined they could get that big.”
“I’ll just bet the soft inside of your thighs is going to be very sensitive by now,” he said, as he started to stroke the inside of each thigh with the feather. He touched the back of each knee with the vibrator, then stroked the vibrator along the tops of her thighs as he continued the stroking of the feather along the inner surfaces.
“Shihihihit, aaaaaaaaaah!” Rachel cried, “Oh, God, please let me come! I have to come! Oooooooooh!”
“Perhaps you would like me to touch your pussy with this vibrator,” he said, as he moved the device along the outer edges of her genital lips, tickling the fleshy part of her butt that he could access from his position between her legs.
“Please, oh God, please,” she pleaded, trying to move herself down onto the shaft of the vibrator, “please put it in.”
“Oh, good heavens, Miss Cook,” he said, “we haven’t even finished your tickling adventure yet. How can you possibly proposition me like that?”
“Aaaaaaahahahahaha!” she laughed, as she felt the tickling start on the sole of her left foot, “not my feeheeheeheet, shihihihihit, nohohoho.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaah,” she screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt the tip of another device, a hummingbird, touch the sole of her foot right where the little crease that divides the ball of her foot meets the instep. She lost control of her water again and a golden stream of her urine hit Master Kato directly in the face before he could get out of the way.
“So that’s the way you repay my hospitality, Miss Cook,” he said, wiping off his face with a moist towel, “we’ll just have to spend an extra hour with these beautiful little feet of yours. Let’s try this little hummingbird on your heels.”
“Nooooohohoho, ahahahahahaha!”
On and on the tickling went, using the hummingbird, as well as the feather and the vibrator on every part of her feet. She nearly went ballistic when he used the hummingbird on her toes and the vibrator underneath her toes at the same time. She had nothing left anymore – she laughed but she couldn’t even plead anymore. Seven hours of continuous tickling had broken her. She was sweaty, exhausted, out-of-breath and badly aroused. She had no strength anymore.
Master Kato left the room. He went to the big Japanese tile bath that he had up on another floor of the house, ensuite to his master bedroom. He filled the bath with perfectly warm water, beautifully fragranced bubble bath and expensive bath oils. He took off his clothes and put on a yukata bath robe. Then he went back downstairs to his tickling laboratory.
He unfastened the leather restraints from Rachel’s ankles, knees, waist, neck, elbows and wrists, and lifted her into his arms.
“What,” she said, “what are you doing?”
“Taking you to a better place,” he said, “put your arms around my neck.”
Rachel was too exhausted to fight him. She simply obeyed and put her arms around his neck as he carried her up to the bath. He gently lowered Rachel into the very pleasant warm water with its bubbles and its silky soft bath oil. He then supported her with one hand while he took off his yukata bath robe with the other. He lowered himself into the water behind her, and allowed her to lie down on his lap.
With a little hand held shower head, he wet her long blonde hair with warm water, stroking it gently as he did so. He applied some thick, luxurious shampoo from Shiseido, with their beautiful Zen fragrance, to her hair. With long, gentle strokes of his hand from her forehead to the back of her neck, he generously applied the shampoo and massaged her scalp. He even ran his hands gently from her temples, in front of her ears, over her ears and into her neck. Rachel just let her head lay back and exalted in the pampering, moaning softly as he continued to stroke and massage her. He then rinsed her hair and applied more shampoo to finish washing her hair.
After that, he picked up a sponge and a large bar of scented soap, the same Zen fragrance from Shiseido as the shampoo, and gently applied soap to every part of her body, washing each special part of her separately. As she lay on his lap, he lifted one of her arms and washed all around her armpit, shoulder, neck, chest and side. Then the other arm. Next, he lifted her to a sitting position and longingly lathered her back, washing and massaging her whole back from her neck to her ass, carefully massaging all of the muscles as he did so. He lowered her back down onto his lap and washed her breasts, her tummy, and her abdomen. Rachel simply lay down on his lap, all of her body from the neck down in the soft, scented oily warm water, moaning and almost purring like a kitten.
He lifted her right leg and washed it from her toes to the top of her thigh, then moving the soapy spongy to her genitals, causing her to gyrate her hips. He then finished her bath by doing the other leg from her toes to her thighs as well. He let the water run out of the bath and continued to hold her as he dried her throroughly with soft, thick towels. It took a while to dry her hair properly but he continued to apply the towels to one handful of long blonde hair at a time.
When he was finished, and had washed himself all along too, he picked up Rachel and carried her to his big king size bed in the master bedroom. He gently lowered her to the surface of the bed, laying her on the dark red satin sheet, and covered her with a matching sheet and a soft, warm goose down quilt. He held her for several hours as she slept, occasionally feeling a little tic in her arm or leg as her nervous system remembered what had happened to her earlier. She rolled over onto her right side and he put his arm around her, cuddled up to her back as she slept.
“Why did you do that to me?” she asked when she wakened.
“Because you are so beautiful,” he said, “I love to tickle beautiful young women.”
“My God, I never had any idea how intense that could be. The only thing now is that I’m so aroused you have to finish me. I know you’re a lot older than I am but do you think you can do it for me?”
“Is that the way you ask for sex, Miss Cook,” he teased, “by insulting the man you propose to have sex with?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, “it’s just that I’m only twenty five years old and you must be twice that. So, it might not be the same for you as it was a long time ago.”
“Now I’m not so sure I want to have sex with you, young lady.”
“Shit, I’m naked in your bed with you!”
“I did notice that,” he said, “I knew there was something different about you.”
Rachel climbed right on top of Master Koto, gyrated her hips and made him bring her to climax three times, each one a fist-clenching, toe-curling orgasm like she had never had.
“Can I ask you something, Miss Cook?”
“Sure, of course.”
“What happened to your pubic hair,” he asked, “you were well endowned with it when I saw you at the hotel but now there’s nearly nothing there – it looks as though it’s been chopped off.”
“When I was in Hong Kong, after I left Japan last time, I was invited to a little Chinese restaurant after they closed. They fed me a nice meal with three bottles of Chinese beer and then, when it got to me, they put me on one of those big stainless steel kitchen work tables and tickled the crap out of me. The first thing they did, though, was shave my pubic hair with a meat cleaver.”
“A meat cleaver?” he noted, “I’ll bet that hurt.”
“Oh, shit, it was awful,” she said, “you can imagine dry shaving yourself on the face, even being used to shaving. My pubic area was a lot more sensitive than your face would be.”
“And a meat cleaver wouldn’t be as sharp as a razor, either.”
“No,” she said, “and he just kept dragging it across my pubic mound over and over until the hair was gone. I even pissed myself – it hurt so much.”
“So, are you angry with me for bringing you here?”
“I was at first,” she said, “but now I’m kind of happy I met you.”
“Not simply because I let you rape me just now?”
“No,” she said, “and I didn’t rape you – you aroused me to the point that I didn’t know what I was doing!”
“That’s still no excuse for raping a helpless older gentleman.”
“Oh, well,” she said, “too bad! You’re the one who brought me here.”
“I’ll tell you what, Miss Cook,” he started.
“Shit, will you please call me Rachel!”
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll tell you what, Rachel, how about I take you out to dinner. We can still make it to the best steak house in all Japan before eight o’clock. It’s called the Aragawa Restaurant, in Tokyo.”
After dinner, Master Kato offered to take Rachel back to her hotel, but she asked if she could come back to his house with him. They slept together that night, got up late the following morning and had a special breakfast that he made for her. They spent a wonderful day together, riding bicycles around the Matsudo neighbourhood where his home was located, had a lunch of ramen noodles along the way, spent some time in the swimming pool by his house, and cooked a lovely dinner together, the cook and the billionaire, in the kitchen together.
At the airport, Rachel asked, “Hiro, will I ever see you again?”
“You can come and see me any time you like, Rachel,” he said, “here is a special telephone number where you can call me, whether you just want to talk or come for a few days. There will always be a plane ticket ready for you.”
“Wow, thank you for everything.”
“Bye, now,” he said, “have a nice flight to Hawaii.”
She kissed him, with tears in her eyes. Then she turned to go through security and out to her plane.
She turned around to look, as he waved at her, saying to himself, “bye now, sweet one, until we meet again.”
