Taleena
was fast asleep. She had been in class at college all day and worked in the
supermarket until closing time at 11:00. It had been a busy Friday night and
she was very tired by the time she got home. When she saw her bed, she took
off her jeans, her t-shirt, her bra and her socks, leaving only her panty.
She was asleep almost immediately. It had been a long day for the pretty five-foot-seven
21-year old. A long day, indeed. Although she wasn't one to toss and turn
in bed all night, she normally did change position from time to time. Taleena
liked to sleep on her side, turned half-way onto her stomach, facing to the
right. After a few hours, she would turn into a similar position onto the
other side, facing to the left. She rarely slept on her back, a position she
didn't find at all comfortable. It was no surprise, then, that she tried to
turn onto her right side as soon as she sensed that she was sleeping on her
back. The funny thing was that she couldn't do it. She tried to turn but something
was holding her. Sensing that something was not right, Taleena's eyes flashed
open. She immediately realized that she was no longer in her bed, or even
her bedroom. She tried to move but even that was impossible. She looked up
at her arms and saw that there were straps holding her wrists and upper arms.
Then, she lifted her head and saw similar straps holding her legs widely apart,
securing them at the ankles and the thighs. She was naked and helpless. As
she looked about the room, she noticed various cabinets, tables, trolleys,
control panels, computer terminals and lights. She could see herself and the
device on which she was confined in the gleaming stainless steel doors of
the cabinets along the wall to her right. It was a large table, specifically
designed to helplessly secure a woman in the most compromising position, spreadeagled
with her arms high above her head and her legs widely parted. She had no idea
how she had come to this place, remembering only that she had dropped into
her bed and gone to sleep almost immediately. She started to get scared, very
scared. Some time after she had awakened, probably twenty minutes or so she
thought, a man entered the room. She recognized him immediately. He was a
regular customer at the supermarket. "What the hell is this?" she started,
"How did I get here?" "All in due time," he answered, as he picked up a large,
stiff feather from one of the little wheeled tables along the wall and approached
her. "Let me go, please,"she pleaded, trying to move against the restraints
holding her arms and legs. "You know, I have loved you since the first moment
I saw you," he told her, "I was deeply affected by the very unique beauty
that I saw in you, not only your physical beauty but the inner beauty that
I saw in your eyes." As he spoke, he started to stroke the big feather across
her stomach and along her sides, working the entire front of her torso from
below her breasts to the creases where it met her thighs and her sides from
below her armpits to her hips, carefully avoiding her breasts, her armpits
and her genitals. He was stroking her soft and flawless skin more to intimidate
her than to tickle her, demonstrating to her subconscious mind that she was
very, very vulnerable and he was in total control of her. "No," she pleaded,
"please don't! That tickles." "I knew then that I wanted you for myself. But
I also realized that a beautiful young college girl would not be likely to
have a great deal of interest in a man of my age. College girls always want
to go with the boys they associate with in their schools. And therefore I
could only proceed with my desires by taking you, rather than asking you -
I hope you understand." Taleena squirmed and fidgeted on the x-shaped table
holding her as the man drew the stiff feather across the soft skin of her
stomach and sides, slowly and purposefully, in long, agonizing strokes, as
he spoke. She tried everything she could think of to ease the sensations -
she stiffened her body, bit into her lip, squeezed her eyes and clenched her
fists. Nothing seemed to help. She felt her nipples start to swell and harden.
That was the sign he was looking for, waiting for. Now he moved his attention
to her breasts. "In China, one of history's most terrible tortures was the
death of a thousand cuts," he told her, "which would begin with one hundred
cuts of a very sharp knife across each of a woman's breasts, each cut a little
longer and a little deeper than the one before, building up a level of pain
in which each cut would continue to contribute to the pain that she would
feel, starting at the top of each breast and making fifty cuts in the top
helf of a breast, then another fifty cuts starting at the bottom, slowly working
toward the nipple but never touching it." He began to draw the edge of the
large, stiff feather across the top half of her right breast, mimicking the
movements of the knife he was describing. The anguish and agony building in
Taleena's mind and body built with each successive stroke as she squirmed
and mewled and pleaded. Slowly, ever so slowly, he drew the feather across
the top of her right breast fifty times, then the top of the left breast,
then the lower half of the right breast and finally the lower half of her
left breast, coming close to her nipple but never touching it. "It took many
hours to complete the thousand cuts, using a razor-sharp knife, and the pain
was indescribable, sometimes lasting the entire night before the woman would
die from shock and loss of blood." Taleena's nipples became painfully engorged
with blood, so big and hard she thought they were going to burst, and she
became sexually aroused, she felt herself become very, very wet inside as
she imagined each stroke of the knife with each stroke of the feather. Even
so, the strokes continued driving her further and further into both agony
and ecstasy. He then moved his attention back to her stomach and further onto
her thighs. As he continued to speak, he stroked the feather across the top
and over the outside of her thighs as well as her lower legs. "When they would
finish with her breasts," he continued, "they would move down to her stomach
like this, drawing the knife in long strokes, creating a criss-cross diamond
pattern. They would create a similar pattern on her thighs and legs with each
cut less than a quarter inch from the other." He continued to trace each stroke
of the knife he described with the sharp, stiff edge of the feather. Her sexual
arousal continued to build and build. But he was careful not to touch any
part of her that would take her all the way to an orgasm. He moved to her
arms and ribs, stroking the soft inside of her upper arms and the curvature
of her ribs, careful to avoid her armpits. "After the legs and thighs, their
attention would then move to her arms," he said, "with the same diamond pattern
a quarter of an inch apart on the soft inner portions of her upper arms. The
knife would then also be drawn along the curve of each of her ribs, both on
the rib itself and in the little space between them. Then the attention would
move to her feet." Taleena was so close, oh so close, to sexual orgasm. But
the man was an expert. He really knew the female anatomy, they workings of
the female body and its nervous system. She was so close, and yet she could
not climax. She was in agony. If only she could touch her genitals, or if
only he would touch her genitals. "Please," she pleaded, "don't touch my feet.
Haven't you done enough already?" The man brought a wheeled stool from the
side of the room and seated himself at the foot end of the table. Taleena
flexed her toes over and over, sensing his presence so close to her feet.
Like the rest of her, Taleena's feet were very pretty - size 8 1/2 and in
perfect proportion - beautifully cleaned and manicured - no dead tissue or
callouses of any kind - perfectly kissable. It was all he could do to restrain
himself from kissing and licking her feet. And so he brought the feather up
toward her left foot. "In Hawaii and the other islands of the south seas,"
he went on, "any of the young women from other islands who came to be captured
were turned over to the women of a particular village. They would tie her
down on the ground in the same position as you, bring out a collection of
feathers kept especially for this occasion, and begin to tickle her feet."
As he was talking, he began to stroke the feather across the instep of her
left foot, drawing it from one side to the other slowly and carefully, between
the fold of skin on the soft instep as she flexed her toes as far as she could
to prevent the sensation of the feather on her skin. She felt another feather
on the top of her foot drawn across in the same way and brought her toes back
up. This tightened the skin of her instep where the first feather was again
drawn across, leading her to flex her toes again. "Please sto-o-o-p," she
laughed, squirming and flopping her foot about as best she could "I can't
stand to be tickled there." After some ten or fifteen minutes of tickling
her left foot in this way, with Taleena squirming, laughing and pleading,
he put the feather that he had used on the top of her foot down, and turned
to her right foot. This time he simply took hold of her foot with his hand,
between his thumb and fingers, preventing her from flexing her toes. Then
he began to draw the feather across the instep of her right foot, over and
over, as she howled with laughter, laughing so hard she couldn't even plead
for him to stop. Every few minutes, he would draw the feather across the groove
below her toes and in between each of her toes, driving her to new heights
of laughter. Some forty minutes passed while he worked on her right foot with
his feather. He moved his stool between her legs and waited for her laughter
to subside and her breathing to stabilize. He then began to stroke the soft
inner surfaces of her thighs with the feather, knowing she was on the verge
of orgasm. Her nipples were stiff and gorged with blood, her clitoris was
erect and her vagina was sopping wet. "Aah! Ooh!" she panted, clenching her
fists, squeezing her eyes, "Why are you doing this to me?" "Because I love
you," he said, "and I want you to experience all that it is to be female.
Not like the schoolboys who simply want to get in, jump up and down a few
times, and then simply leave you behind as another conquest. The female body
was designed for pleasure, it was made to experience intense sexual pleasure,
and I want to take you to some of the heights of ecstasy that you never dreamed
possible, pleasures that few women today can ever even imagine, let alone
experience." "Please let me go," she pleaded, "I am so aroused right now I
can't stand it - it's going to kill me if I can't touch myself and finish
it." The stroking of the feather on the inside of Taleena's thighs was maddening.
She was so close to an orgasm and yet couldn't reach it. Oh, the agony, and
the ecstasy, she thought, oh please let me come. "I can't release you just
yet, Taleena," he said, "but I can kiss you, and lick you, and bring you to
the end. All you have to do is ask me." "Oh, God! Oh, please, please finish
it!" she pleaded, "I can't stand it. I'm so close, please do it." He kissed
her genitals, and brought her to the throes or orgasm by kissing and licking
her most sensitive parts, delicately licking her clitoris, gently forcing
his tongue into her vagina, savoring the juices of her arousal, the exceptional
sweet taste and the delicate aroma of her very essence. It wasn't long before
she arched her back and stiffened her entire body, trembling with the throes
of an intense sexual climax, within the bonds that held her. When she came
back down from the heights of ecstasy, she lay on the table, panting, sweaty
and exhausted. "Good night, sweet one," the man said, as he kissed her gently
on the cheek, "we will share another adventure soon," and quietly left the
room, in the same way he had entered. She drifted off into sleep. Suddenly,
remembering her adventure, Taleena's eyes flashed open. She was in her bed.
It was five o'clock Saturday morning. "Wow," she said to herself, "was that
only a dream? Even my muscles are sore. And where is my panty? I had a panty
on when I went to sleep!" And so she drifted back to sleep - naked - too tired
to wonder any further where her panty might be - and she slept better than
ever before.