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Subject: {ASSM} Alvi Daydreams 05010 <*> {Dr. Mentor} (Ff toys exhib dream caution bd sm tickle)
Date: Mon, 19 Jun 2000 06:10:05 -0400
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Alvi's Inspired Daydreams 05010
By Dr. Mentor
First posted 11-Jun-2000
Reposting without X-No-Archive. Also the post to ASS never got to my news
server (Drat!)
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved. Please do not put on any archive, site, or distribution
medium without written permission. Exception: www.asstr-mirror.org and
Deja.com may archive this in their usenet archives. Similarly,
exception is granted to other fully automatic electronic archiving
machines.
My e-mail is dr_mentor at redneck dot gacracker dot org
(assemble it manually).
If you think this story should be in a specialty newsgroup, please post
a message to alt.sex.stories.d, and I'll handle it. You could post a
spotlight in that group, but do let me know anyway.
Here's a thank-you to the ASSTR folks for running ASSM. We appreciate
it! Where can I send donations?
Thanks to the folks at Potato Software and all the folks running
anonymous remailers and nym servers. I wouldn't dare do this without
you.
I plan to write up more daydreams and I have more to say about Alvi and
Robbyn. However, this is not a novel that is broken up into segments.
These stories will be created right before posting; they don't already
exist. Each is a separate literary work. The numbers that are part of
the title may help us to someday understand the chronological
arrangement of the stories.
Please send any responses by posting to alt.sex.stories.d, and make
sure to leave Alvi in the subject header. I'll find your comments by
searching on Alvi. I search, not scan.
WARNINGS & DISCLAIMERS
This may count as a "stroke" story, or not. Actually, I deliberately
started out to do that. The whole idea of the "Daydreams" was to have
an excuse to write short, hot vignettes. The characters seem to be
taking on a life of their own. In any case, I plan to have a high
ratio of erotic content over character development and plot. Live
erotically, and tell those who excite you that they do!
The caution in the subject line is because this story includes women
who have undergone surgical genital modification, though the surgical
event is not described here. No knives, blood, or gore here. You just
get to see the fun they have with it after it has been long healed.
LEGAL STUFF: Is this story illegal in the jurisdiction you live in? I
can't tell. Neither can you. You aren't the one who gets to decide
whether it is obscene in your community. Some judge gets to do that.
Are you worried yet? Keep in mind that the Police Chief, District
Attorney, and Judge are probably all elected political officers. Those
folks need to WORK to maintain their power. If they figure they can
increase their chances of getting re-elected by putting you in jail.
well, you figure it out! Be paranoid. Why do you think I post
anonymously? Learn all you can about encryption and anonymity on the
Net. Read at your own risk.
Anyhow, if you are under 18, this story is quite likely illegal to
read. And probably offensive. And it'll give you anti-social,
perverted ideas and filthy habits, and probably bad jokes. Delete this
message now and go read the biographies of Albert Schweitzer and Nelson
Mandella. Those will do you more good than this will!
If you keep reading this series long enough, I'll offend you, too!
As to the toys and actions in this series: Don't try this at home (or
if you do, proceed vewy, vewy quuuietwy, very carefully, very gently,
and at your own risk). Some of the stuff these FICTIONAL CHARACTERS get
away with would have harsh repercussions if you tried it, from legal
action through death. Keep in mind: this whole series takes place on a
fictional world where the laws and customs are different, human anatomy
is different, the laws of physics are different, the deities are
different, and these FICTIONAL CHARACTERS have the Author in their
favor. (Perhaps God is watching us; be entertaining!) And the stuff
inside Alvi's daydreams is even one more step removed from reality!
Concerning the fictional world: Alvi and Robbyn (her older sister and
guardian) live in the town of Sheauxville, a suburb of New Domington,
in the province of Biyendee in the People's Republic of Genitamia. The
PRG is an ally of both Perversia and the Essemian Empire, and hostile
to Tyrranistan, welcoming refugees from there. Alvi and Robbyn are two
such refugees. The PRG is officially neutral to the Prurinesian Island
Conglomerate. All in Multiverse 915.807 + 836.808i /bis, now LIVE on
the OmniversalRealityWeb.
Alvi and Robbyn are nicknames the girls invented after immigrating
here. Their real names in their native land of Prurinesia were
Al'tklanvptavi, and Rob'writvaviin. The Genitamians weren't even
getting close to pronouncing those names right, so the girls invented
the nicknames. Generally, the Genitamians find these ruddy-skinned
Prurinesian island girls to be exotic and beguiling, and the
Prurinesians find the fair Genitamians to be striking and fascinating.
The People's Republic is rife with half-believed stories of secret
sexual skills and magic of the Prurinesians.
And, yes, I sometimes use the term "girls" for adult young women. Get
used to it!
And I'm a sufficiently poor writer that I prefer to just TELL you all
that stuff rather than spend a lot of effort working it into the
stories. Memorize it as your homework, there will be a quiz in the
morning!
By now, you're probably wondering if we're ever going to get to the
story. So am I!
======= ========== ========== ========== =========== ==========
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
Alvi was looking through her closet, looking at her clothes from a new
viewpoint. On previous days, her concern had always been how she would
look. On some days she wanted to look sweet, on others sexy, and on
some days she just wanted to be inconspicuous. Today, she wanted
something that would feel sexy, and bring her pleasure.
Those nasty captioned pictures she had found in Robbyn's room had fired
her imagination. Alvi was especially fascinated by the story of
Karina, a woman who had been forced to undergo the surgical splitting
of the hood over her clitoris. That had made the poor woman's clit
completely vulnerable to the various torments applied by her abusive
masters and mistresses. They had wound a rope around her waist as a
belt, and then threaded more rope from that "belt" down through the
crack of Karina's butt and up through her crotch and then attached to
the "belt" in front. The next picture showed and described how a
Mistress lovingly spread her victim's inner labia and fit the rope
right in between them, making sure it snuggled right against her
utterly defenseless clitty. Then, any motion, including walking, would
cause the rope to scuff not just the tip of her clit, but the whole
tender shaft, too! They then dressed Karina in a classy dress with a
short hemline and sent her walking on errands around town, looking for
all the world like a high-society lady.
Alvi had been unable to put down the pages that described, in the
lovely victim's own words, the erotic sensations as she strutted down
the street. The friction of the rope sent a hot thrill through her
with each step, and quickly aroused her libido to a demanding hunger for
sex. As her clit became engorged and sensitized, the caress of the
rope became overly intense. Karina tried to take the hip-rocking
motion out of her gait, to reduce the delicious stimulation which was
rapidly becoming prickling, almost painful. But, her body was
responding to the stimulation and getting ready for sex, including
accentuating the wiggle in her ass. Her body was going on automatic,
and she was shocked to realize she was soon going to orgasm. Panicked,
she looked hastily for some bit of privacy to have the orgasm she now
needed so desperately. She was a screamer, and she knew she would
totally humiliated to have a squealing orgasm right on the busy
sidewalk.
Karina had ducked into a dress shop, picked up the first dress she saw
and desperately asked the teenaged sales girl where the dressing room
was. She ran to the doorway indicated, trying to outrun her own
passion. She barely got into the door and threw her hand over her
mouth before she came, squealing, in a great convulsive climax, with
every muscle in her body spasming or trembling. She sagged against the
wall, quivering with luscious aftershocks of delight. She drew in
great ragged lungfulls of air, wallowing in waves of erotic delirium
that calmed slowly.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
Finally, getting a bit of control, she managed to walk out into the
shop to hang the dress back up. In her first two steps, she discovered
her situation had become worse. Now, her clit had become more
sensitive after her orgasm, and would normally have withdrawn into the
protection of the clitoral hood. However, poor Karina's surgically
split hood provided no protection from caresses of the rope, which now
seemed harsh to the point of erotic agony. She froze right after those
first two steps, overwhelmed with sensations that merged pain and
pleasure into a devastating experience. The salesgirl looked at her
with a curious expression, almost knowing, and Karina felt the warmth
of a blush that washed from the roots of her hair right down to her
breasts.
Alvi had been forced to hastily put the document away, as she heard the
door open downstairs and knew Robbyn would soon be coming up to her
room.
Alvi had been distracted at dinner, her mind awash with increasingly
wicked images. She gave up on studying, unable to concentrate on her
schoolwork. Her sleep was disturbed by erotic dreams, as her mind
rearranged images and words into increasingly twisted variations. She
awoke hot and bothered, and took a cold shower rather than masturbate,
suddenly ashamed that Robbyn might hear her.
This morning, standing in front of her closet, Alvi was possessed by a
perverse desire to feel something like that woman felt. Not so strong,
but something that would be challenging by the end of the school day.
She chose a pair of short-shorts which were loose and designed to be
held up by suspenders. Once she had them pulled up she unclipped and
adjusted the suspenders so that the both attached to the shorts in the
front-center, right over her vulva. In back, she shifted the suspender
clips to a point right over the crease of her derriere. She then
tightened the suspender adjustments to make the shorts a bit tight in
her crotch. She took a few steps around the room, and found she had
been successful. The crotch seam of the shorts shifted over her lacy
panties with each step, causing a slight scratchy vibration that she
found tickly and teasing. She shivered slightly at the thought of
experiencing that all day.
A fuzzy pink sweater was next, for she already knew that it provided a
tickling kind of caressing of her bare breasts and would thrill her all
day. And the sweater was long enough to conceal the odd placement of
the suspenders. In just moving about her room to get ready for school,
it was all she could do to restrain herself from bursting into giggles
at the lascivious tickling of her tender spots.
Alvi scampered downstairs and skipped into the kitchen to give her big
sister, Robbyn, a good-bye hug. She found Robbyn bent over the sink,
doing the breakfast dishes.
"Robbyn, turn around and give me a hug!"
Robbyn turned, saw Alvi, and her heart skipped a beat. She loved her
little sister dearly, but was becoming increasingly erotically
attracted to her. She was having a hard time holding herself in check
these days. But, she knew it would be very risky to let their
relationship get sexual, especially in their new homeland where she
wasn't so familiar with the social rules. And she knew Alvi just
worshipped her, so it would be way to easy to get into a power-abuse
condition. As Alvi's guardian, she had a stewardship to be honored.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
This morning, her little sister just took her breath away. Her shapely
brown legs displayed beneath her short-shorts called to Robbyn. And
the dance of her soft breasts under that sweater made it obvious she
wasn't wearing a bra.
Alvi fairly leapt into Robbyn's arms, and gave her a big hug and a
kiss. It was all Robbyn could do to restrain herself and not kiss Alvi
passionately. She struggled to keep her lips closed and not assault
her delicious sister. She was so caught up in her turmoil, she didn't
even put her arms around Alvi.
Alvi let go and backed away just to arm's length, with a look on her
face of puzzlement and slight hurt.
"Is everything OK, Robbyn?", she asked, a bit concerned at Robbyn's
lack of response. Only her subconscious was taking in that Robbyn was
panting and shivering slightly.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just pre-occupied with some business and legal
stuff. Sorry."
"That's OK. Is any of it about the dress code?"
"Yeah, though that's not my top priority, you know. Speaking of which,
aren't you kinda pushing the limits today?", inquired Robbyn.
"Aw, these shorts have become pretty popular, and the fuddy-duddies
just frown, they haven't stopped anybody else yet."
"And why aren't you wearing a bra?", accused Robbyn.
"Oh pulllease! All my bras are too small, we need to buy new ones,
they hurt. Besides, you can't see nuthin' through a thick sweater!
Thorrrra! And those old fogies have already been busted in court on
that one: they can't make girls wear bras. It was declared `arbitrary
and capricious'. I just know you'll win on letting us wear our
Prurinesian clothes," Alvi beamed.
"Well, maybe. Their latest counter-attack is that those don't have the
status of historical native costumes, and are just styles."
"Hmmmph! They're just covering up the fact they can't handle dress
that is a little risque," said Alvi.
"Obscene is the word some of the newspaper edtiorials use. And worse.
It seems there's a lot of prudes in the PRG, and they've got some clout
in high places. Soooo. we may lose that one. Now, you run along to
high-school, before you miss the bus," chided Robbyn.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
Alvi dashed out the door and ran down the street toward the bus stop.
She was running too hard to pay attention to what her clothes were
doing. As soon as she got close enough to see that the bus was not yet
there, she slowed to a brisk walk. Then, she became quite aware of the
friction of the seam of her shorts rubbing on her lacy panties. It
generated a subtle vibration on her outer labia, just enough to be a
pleasant tickling. She needed to pay attention to suppress a giggle.
Now that she was paying attention to it, the vibration seemed to get
stronger, inspiring her to imagine spending the whole day in a kind of
tickle torture. She wondered, and almost hoped, that it would arouse
her with a sexual hunger, so she could have the experience of the woman
in the story. That imagined fate further fueled her erotic interest,
making her both eager and nervous about her day at school. The
tickling sensation was subtle, but seemed to be growing with time, and
was already inescapably distracting. She began to wonder if she could
or would have an orgasm, and how she could keep from making an obscene
spectacle of her self. She thus created the psychic shift from
ticklish to sexually aroused.
The genital delight which the rubbing ignited in her crotch seemed to
leap right up into her breasts, making them sensitive, and causing her
nipples to get hard and engorged. Now the rubbing of her fuzzy sweater
as her breasts jiggled about, set shock-waves of prurient delight
racing out from her agitated nipples all through her body and
especially back to her clit. The collision of that thrilling wave with
the swell of erotic enjoyment in her crotch, driven by the rasping
there, fed an escalating storm of lascivious joy and venereal need.
Alvi began to become a bit frightened of losing control and collapsing
in a loud squealing climax with the other school kids all around her.
She slowed her steps and tried to get control her unruly feminine
ardor, but it was all she could do to slow the rate of her sexual
escalation. She could not stop it.
She got on the bus, hardly saying a word to anyone else. It was all
she could do to maintain some semblance of composure as she climbed
aboard, as climbing the steps cause added a bit more friction of the
crotch seam, and she thought she might go over the edge into orgasm.
She stumbled down the isle of the bus on weak, trembly legs, struggling
to hold back lusty moans. She made it to a seat and plopped down
gratefully.
Some of the other kids noticed she wasn't her usual bubbly, flirty
self, and tried to ask if there was something wrong. Her aroused state
made her even more appealing than usual, and the boys (and some of the
girls) were drawn magnetically to her. She brushed them off with only
a word or two, lost on her own world of lascivious turmoil, which was
threatening to become outright torment.
As the bus lumbered down the road, Alvi stared out the window and tried
to calm her own disobedient passions. She was able to calm down only
slowly. The vibrations from the bus's motor, transmitted through the
hard seat, seemed to lance right into her pussy in a way she had never
noticed before, keeping her own motor humming.
Staring out the window and hardly noticing the scenery, Alvi drifted
into reverie.
----- ------- ------- ------ ----- -----
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
Teldara awoke to find herself naked and firmly strapped to a special
padded rack. She became groggily aware of her surroundings, including
the women standing over her.
"So, our little spy is back from dreamland!", said Senecaa, one of the
coppery-garbed executioners.
"Spy? Me? NO! I didn't! I'm not!!" shrieked Teldara. She was
getting panicky, for there were dreadful rumors of the punishments
meted out upon the enemies of the Sisterhood.
One of the Sisters giggled at Teldara's distress. Eugenia was decked
out in copper-chain jewelry that dangled over her breasts and loins,
offering tantalizing intermittent glimpses of her shapely titties and
buns as well as her hairless sex.
"You have been found guilty of letting slip one of the secrets of the
Sisterhood. While we don't believe you are in conspiracy with anyone
else, and probably don't think of yourself as our enemy, that is still
an act of spying. Even simple carelessness must be punished so that
you are motivated to be careful in the future." Said Nellena, a third
executioner, arrayed in skin-tight copper-metalized mylar shorts and
open blouse. The shorts were very skimpy and showed off her luscious
legs and the lower curve of her buns. The blouse was tailored to be
unable to close above her navel and offered teasing peeks at her firm
young boobs. The costumes were all designed in line with the coppery
styles favored by the S&M subculture, and gave them a very sinister
appearance in Teldara's eyes.
"What are you going to do to me?"
"We are going to torture you, silly. Hmmmm., I like that! Yes, I
think we'll torture you silly!"
"Aaaaahhhh, no! Don't! Please!!! I'll be careful! Honest! I'll
never tell anyone anything about the Sisterhood! Pleeeeeeease! Don't
hurt me! Oh Thora, NOOOOOO!!!"
"Jeez, what a whiner. We haven't even started! Put a gag on her
willya?" whined Seneca.
"No, I like to hear them beg. First for mercy, then for more!" said
Nellena. She leaned close, her face suddenly appearing right in front
of Teldara's eyes.
"Stop! Be silent!" Nellena barked sharply and quite loud. Startled,
Teldara fell silent, momentarily holding her breath in near panic.
"Lighten up! We're not going to damage you, not going to leave any
scars or lasting marks. We want you chastised, not crippled! The idea
is to have you as a fully participating member of the Sisterhood. So
button your lip and take your torture like a brave woman," snapped
Nellena, wearing her best wicked, revenge-is-mine-now grin.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
Teldara was somewhat calmed by this, but still dreading the "torture"
that the executioners seemed so eager to apply. She also silently
resolved not to beg.
"I wonder what she dreads most?" said Eugenia, carefully watching
Teldara's eyes, while holding up a short braided whip in one hand and a
feather in the other. She watched Teldara's eyes flicker and widen as
she recognized the feather. Teldara tried to hide her reaction, but it
was too late. Eugenia giggled gleefully, and decided to have some fun
while checking her answer. Eugenia slowly waved the whip in front of
Teldara's face, watching her eyes. Teldara found the whip a bit scary,
but she noticed it was made of very light strands, which looked like
yarn. They didn't look like they would tear up her skin and certainly
couldn't cause deep bruises. She was almost curious as to how it could
be torture to be beaten with such a flimsy thing. Her eyes flickered
to Eugenia's face for a clue.
Then Eugenia passed the feather before Teldara's eyes, which locked
onto it and grew so wide they showed white all around. Teldara
shivered involuntarily as a wave of near-terror washed over her. She
was frightfully ticklish, and considered her own reactions to tickling
to be shameful. When she was young, an uncle had abused her with a
combination of tickling and erotic teasing, and had then mocked her for
getting wild and losing control. He made her feel ashamed at her
bodily reactions to his touch. So, she had a powerful shame reaction
that did not come up to interfere with her love relationships, as long
as her lovers did not tickle her.
Now, as she found herself confronted by her most dreaded fate, her
breathing became rapid and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her skin.
She was desperate to find a way to avoid this.
"Ohhhh, pleeeaase, no-no-no-no, not that! It's not fair! It's too
cruel! Yoou Musn't! Please! I'll do anything! Just spare me that!"
Senecaa, Nellena, and Eugenia all broke out into big grins.
"Oh, she is going to be a lot of fun! It's been a while since we've
had a ticklish one to punish. I can't wait to get back in practice.
I've got some new tricks I want to try out."
Teldara saw there would be no mercy here, and slipped near to despair.
She began to whimper and blubber.
"Oh is poor baby upset?" simpered Senecaa sarcastically, unwittingly
agitating Teldara's shame button and adding to her distress. The three
girls really didn't realize how hard they were stressing their poor
victim.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
The three "executioners" went to work on their bound and helpless
victim.
They tickled her ribs with feathers and their fingers, bringing
helpless gales of laughter. Teldara begged them to stop whenever she
could draw enough breath to do so. Senecaa continued on her ribs while
Nellena worked upward to work on Teldara's underarms with the vanes of
stiff feathers and soft fuzzy plumes. When Teldara began to hiccup
from laughing so much, they relented briefly.
"Oh my, that was, <hic>, too much. I'm <hic> glad that's over!" said
Teldara. Then she noticed a motion at her feet, and her eyes grew big
with frightened awareness. For, Eugenia was selecting her feathers to
go to work on Teldara's poor defenseless feet.
"Oh no, <hic> no, please don't tickle my <hic> feet! Nooo<hic>oo!"
Teldara desperately tried to yank her feet from the path of the
approaching feathers. The rack held her legs primarily by stirrups for
her calves, with straps to hold her calves bound to the curvy metal
frames. She could wiggle her feet wildly but not pull them out of the
way. Eugenia simply brought a fuzzy plume up top each foot and held
them motionless, letting Teldara tickle herself with her wild
gyrations. One at a time, Senecaa took the feathers and fastened them
into place with clamps that were part of the complex torture rack.
Teldara broke into new gales of helpless laughter and increased her
struggles, not realizing she was generating her own torment.
As exhaustion began to set in, she involuntarily paused in her
struggles, sagging in her bondage, drawing great ragged breaths. Then
she noticed that the tickling torture had tapered off somewhat. She
became a bit aware that the executioners had been cracking jokes about
her abusing herself, which had not registered on her in her distress.
She now strove to hold her feet motionless, and the tickling reduced to
a quite subtle irritation, which slowly eroded her self control.
Nellena took a flight feather and fastened it into another clamp below
one of Teldara's knees, and slowly rotated it to just brush the back of
her knee. Teldara jerked in uncontrollable reaction, setting off a new
cycle of tickling her poor soles, accompanied by gales of unwanted,
stressful laughter.
When Teldara collapsed in exhaustion, they un-clamped and removed those
feathers. By this time, Teldara knew better than to expect that this
had anything to do with mercy. She was quite right, as they proceeded to
reposition her legs, loosening some joints of the rack, moving her
thighs pointed upward and wide spread, with knees bent. She was
intensely aware of the exposure of her pussy, bottom, and anus. Cool
breezes in the dungeon seemed to seek out her most sensitive spots, as
though even the air wanted to tickle her. Like all initiates of the
Sisterhood, her sex had been permanently denuded of hair, and was bald
as a baby's. That just helped to project her mentally back to her
childhood and its erotic shame.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
After only a brief rest while they did this, the three torturers began
to focus on her inner thighs. They tickled her with the vanes of
feathers, with quill tips, and with their fingernails. Poor Teldara
again broke into storms of distressed laughter. Conveniently placed
mirrors allowed to Teldara to see clearly how the cruel women
approached her sex more closely with each pass. Teldara's struggles
were again weakening, so Eugenia stroked the vane of a flight feather
into the crease between one thigh and her outer sex lip. That intimate
touch on one of her most ticklish and private spots pushed Teldara's
buttons, invoking reactions of lust, of need to control herself, and of
shame. The eruption of unwanted emotions set off Teldara's hormones,
and her sex flower began to bloom open, exposing her most sensitive
membranes to their callous attentions.
The girls increasingly slid their feathers in the creases between a
thigh and her vulva, or between inner and outer labia, for mind-blowing
effects on her delicate, nerve-laden flanges.
All the second-level initiates, including Teldara, had their clitoral
hoods split apart, and the position of her legs in the rack caused her
labia to part, exposing about an inch of her clitoral shaft. Now the
heartless girls began to slide the feather vanes between her inner
labia and dragged them upward right along her exposed clitoris.
Whenever a feather slid along the shaft of her clit, the explosion of
nerve-racking delight made her go into a convulsion.
When the secretions from her sexual arousal began to wet the feathers
and dampen their effectiveness, Senecaa stuffed a sponge up inside her
pussy. This caused Teldara to gasp and whimper at the sensation of
being invaded by the rough sponge. Nellena then proceeded to dry her
labia and clitty with a blow-dryer. Teldara whimpered at the heat and
tried to wriggle away, to no avail. They then renewed their attack
with new, dry feathers and brushes. The teasing friction was enhanced
on her dry surfaces, now even more engorged by the heat. The feelings
induced by this abuse were so intense, she felt the top of her head
would explode.
Teldara was slipping into a trance, a fog, in which only tickling,
laughter,
and erotic passions existed. She was rising to an erotic peak and
might have had a sexual climax, except she fainted first from her
exertions and lack of breath.
The three executioners were quite pleased with that outcome, and
allowed her to rest, slumped unconscious, while they selected the tools
for the next phase of her prolonged torture.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
When Teldara came back to consciousness, the three women put on their
best evil grins. Eugenia said,
"Welcome back. We let you rest a little so you can be more aware as we
continue. Your sentence includes 4 more hours of tickling!"
"Oh my Lady, NO, no, no. You can't! You musn't! I can't take it!
I'll go insane!" squealed Teldara as she again began to struggle
reflexively against her bonds, desperate to escape.
When she paused to take a breath, Nellena interrupted, "Hmmmm. we know
you have that big court appearance tomorrow morning for your
inheritance, and you'd miss a lot of sleep if you stayed here in our
tender care for another 4 hours. I tell you what, we'll offer you a
deal. We'll let you out of this torture session now, if you'll agree
to wear a nasty costume and walk home. You can take them off only when
you get home, on your Sisterhood Oath. Do you agree?"
"What costume?" asked Teldara.
"It's a sun-dress, with burlap patches for your boobs, and you'll wear
rope panties."
This appalled Teldara, and she shook her head a little, restricted by
the head restraint of the rack.
The girls reached for the feathers. Senecaa slowly waved one before
Teldara's face watching her eyes track it and the fear blossom.
Teldara's will cracked, and she said, "All right! I'll wear your damn
cruel costume! Just let me go home."
The girls demanded that Teldara give the Sisterhood Oath, including
admitting she was doing this as her own decision, to avoid the just
punishment of the Sisterhood judiciary.
"All riiiight!" said Eugenia. "You get her ready while I sew in the
burlap."
Teldara didn't like the sound of `get her ready', and her trepidation
was promptly confirmed. Senecaa picked up feathers and immediately
went to work right on Teldara's open and vulnerable pussy. Nellena
went to work on her breasts, tickling from the underside curves right
up across her nipples. While Eugenia sewed, she was treated to
laughter, giggles and squeals from Teldara. This time, Senecaa and
Nellena's caresses were more specifically erotic, for they wanted
Teldara to be aroused, with her nipples, clitoris, and nether lips all
engorged and sensitized. Their stroking was highly effective and
provoked the most electrifying sensations in their helpless victim.
Teldara's mind was buffeted by tickling and by irresistible, delicious
thrills that drove her into an uncontrollable erotic spiral. Teldara
became dizzy, her mind whirling among conflicting sensations, losing
all power to resist.
Meanwhile, Eugenia was sewing the burlap patches into Teldara's dress.
She then rubbed fiberglass insulation wool into the burlap and into the
clitoral rope of the prepared "panties", handling it all carefully with
leather gloves. She knew that tiny glass fibers were breaking off and
embedding themselves in the burlap and rope, and would give Teldara a
nasty, itchy surprise later.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
The three girls unfastened Teldara from the rack. They gave her the
sun-dress to put on.
"The burlap is lightly tacked in with only a few loops of weak thread,
and you can easily rip it out. It's up to you to keep your word," said
Nellena.
When Teldara felt the scratchy caress of the burlap against her milky,
tender breasts and engorged, sensitive nipples, she immediately knew
she was in for a rough time of it. She wanted to beg out, but she had
given the Oath. She wondered if she would have the will power not to
rip out the burlap part way home. This would really strain her
integrity.
When she saw the rope panties, her knees went weak from fear. There
was a nylon rope `belt', and a hanging loop of coarse hemp rope,
bristling with scratchy fibers, knotted to the belt. It had 4 other
black hanging loops in parallel with the hemp one, two on each side.
She trembled and whimpered and began to beg, but Senecaa merely hissed
at her and she fell silent. Two girls had to support her as she
stepped into the ring of the belt, for she could barely stand. Her
fear was perversely enhancing her arousal and susceptibility to this
obscene treatment. Eugenia tugged the rope belt up to Teldara's hips,
where the stretchy nylon belt was a tight fit.
For the next phase of the installation, they told Teldara to spread her
legs and that she must finish tugging the rope belt up herself. She
began to protest and whimper, while Eugenia knelt in front of her and
began to pry apart her inner labia, thus opening her split clit hood.
Teldara shivered at this intimate caress, knowing there was cruel
intent in this love-making, and abhorred the involuntary, unwanted
thrill that went right through her.
The other two girls raised her skirt so she could reach the rope belt.
Slumping in surrender, she tugged on the rope belt while Eugenia made
sure the hemp loop fit between her inner labia and right up against her
uncovered, defenseless clitty. The scratchy sensation of the bristly
hemp rope scraping her tender inner labia and the whole length of her
delicate clit flashed like lightning to her brain. She shrieked and
collapsed to her knees, with the executioners' grip slowing her fall.
"Oh, Thora, I can't do this. It scratches me! It's horrible!"
"Now Teldara, you gave your Oath. Besides, you can't fool us. Each of
us has worn the rope panties, so we know you can stand it. I've even
done it voluntarily, on a dare. So, tough it out!" said Senecaa. She
didn't mention the fiberglass, which was a new addition.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
They tugged on her arms, urging her to stand again, and Eugenia ducked
under her skirt to finish the installation. She fit the 4 black rubber
tubes into place. On each side, one fit in the crease between her
thigh and her outer lip, and the other fit between her inner and outer
labia. Each was coated with a high-friction material to eliminate
slippage even when wet. The intent of these was to transfer the motion
of her thighs to her inner lips, so they would be driven to scuff along
the hemp rope with each step she took. Teldara shuddered
uncontrollably in response to the pleasures and little stings of
Eugenia's intimate handling of her tender flesh.
They guided her across the dungeon floor, supporting her when her legs
gave out in helpless response to the intense stimulation. With each
step, her poor inner labia were driven to scrape against the coarse,
fiber-festooned hemp rope, and the sensation was a perverse bastard
child of pleasure and pain. She could hardly identify it, like a sound
too loud to be identified. It made her knees go weak and trembly. A
fine sheen of perspiration broke out over her whole body.
Climbing the stairs out of the dungeon was even worse, driving her
labia into stronger chafing against the scratchy rope, and escalating
the feelings to ravishing agony. She began to blubber and plead to
reverse her decision and go back on the rack, but Nellena merely said,
"Your Oath", and she knew she was defeated.
They walked her to the front door and let her rest a bit. She had
become just enough accustomed to the weird abuse to think she might
endure the trip home.
"All right, here's where you earn the escape you bought from the
tickling," said Senecaa. "Don't break your integrity now. Keep your
word. We love you and want you to be a thriving member of the
Sisterhood. Honor its values, especially integrity!"
The three "executioners" kissed Teldara, then they let her out onto the
sidewalk.
Once out in the bright sunlight, Teldara discovered that the sun-dress
was really quite sheer. She almost wished the burlap patches in the
dress were larger, for the curves of her bosom were clearly displayed.
She realized that if she broke her word and removed the burlap patches,
her nipples would be quite brazenly displayed. The material of the short
skirt seemed a bit heavier, leaving her uncertain whether anyone could
tell she was wearing the weird rope "panties". She feared that the
crease between her buns and maybe the curves where they met her thighs
might be visible. She sincerely hoped that she didn't meet anyone she
knew.
By the time she reached the street she had another reason to hope she
did not meet anyone. Walking was sending a waves of passionate fire
from her vulva all through her nervous system. Each step was an
inseparable combination of sexual delight and torture. She was
helpless to control her facial expressions as the waves of agonizing
delight twisted her features into a mask of depraved ardor. She
quickly doubted her ability to walk the few blocks to her home without
losing her mind.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
As she walked, she became sufficiently adapted to the sensations in her
crotch to begin to notice the assault on her bosom. Her full young
titties, unsupported by a bra, bounced and danced freely in her dress
and chafed against the burlap patches. The burlap quickly began to
abrade her engorged and sensitized nipples, adding an itching to the
pleasure-thrills that were emanating from her lovely boobs. She had no
idea that the itching was partly due to microscopic fiberglass fragment
that were being gradually driven into the outer layers of her skin,
provoking the nerves there.
A demanding itch was also growing in her vulva as tiny glass spikes
were transferred from the hemp rope to her tenderest spots. She hardly
noticed this yet, as this effect was overwhelmed by the stinging
pleasure that was inexorably driving her toward an erotic climax. She
was a screamer, and knew that if she came to a sexual climax, she would
make a spectacle of herself that would be the talk of the grapevine for
weeks. The sidewalk was hardly crowded, but neither was it deserted
at any time part of her trip. So she continued to walk, struggling
against her own unruly feminine drives that threatened to consume her
at each moment. She thought she would surely go mad.
In a miracle of sheer self-restraint, she barely made it back to her
apartment and collapsed just inside the doorway, helpless in
convulsions as she wailed out her passions. She fainted in abused,
pained ecstasy.
When she came to, she realized she had not managed to close the door.
She had no idea how long she had been lying in the open doorway, bare
bottom toward the street, her exposed sex bulging around the perverted
rope and rubber tubing. She had no idea how many people had seen her
unbelievable lewd display, and how many knew her. She was mortified
beyond description, yet had no idea that worse was to come.
She struggled out of the rope "panties", then removed the sun-dress.
All her tender spots still itched something fierce and she ran to take
a shower to soothe herself. She knew it would be a bad idea to scratch
those itches, but imagined that a warm bath would soothe them away.
She couldn't wait out the time to run a bath, so she started a shower.
She quickly discovered that the shower quieted the itch somewhat, but
it remained, persistently urging her to scratch at her most fragile
flesh.
She crawled into bed, knowing she needed to sleep to be at her best in
court tomorrow. Her inheritance was at stake, and she couldn't afford
to be dull. Others were maneuvering to get her inheritance, and she
would need to be sharp. But, as soon as she began to doze off, her
self control would fade and her hands would creep to her afflicted
spots and begin to unconsciously scratch her tender tissues. She would
pop awake with wild sexual feelings rocketing through her body, and her
tender tissues even more inflamed from the scratching.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
She applied some itch-relieving lotion left over from a camping trip,
and took double doses of pain killers and sleeping pills. In the end
she needed to carefully masturbate to release some of the sexual
tension, and then bind herself with the love-bondage straps she kept
tucked under the bed. Even so, her sleep was disturbed by haunting
dreams of bizarre sexual torture.
When she awoke, the itch was still with her, and her fingers itched,
too. She was beginning to guess what had been done to her, and she
fumed silently at the Sisterhood. Somebody was going to pay for this,
"in gold". As she dressed, she began to contemplate just how difficult
it was going to be to stand silently in court while all her sexual
parts were plagued by this itch that seemed to grow like a weed
whenever she stood still. Trying not to scratch made her twitchy. It
nagged at her, nibbled at her self control, and even seemed to inspire
a perverse erotic arousal. She couldn't keep her mind from turning to
prurient and wicked images of turning the tables on Senecaa, Nellena,
and Eugenia. She wanted them to experience all that she had, and
worse.
She got on the bus for her trip into court. The vibrations from the
engine and the road seemed to make her itching even worse. She was so
pre-occupied, she almost missed her stop.
- - ----- ------- ------- ------ ----- -----
Alvi was snapped out of her reverie by Tokhail.
"Hey aren't you getting off? This is our stop!"
As she arose, she was aware of an itching and prurient pleasure in her
own body. She felt that the itch had escaped from her daydream out
into reality, and changed the feelings she was getting from her sweater
and tight-crotch shorts. It seemed she was being erotically caressed
with each movement, and she felt a sexual hunger growing. Alvi was at
once delighted and frightened at the success of her plan to challenge
herself sexually during a whole day at school.
This story is owned and copyright 2000 by Dr. Mentor, all rights
reserved.
The end.
==== ====== ======= ======= ======== ======== ======== ======
If this inspires you to daydream, please write up your daydreams and
post them to alt.sex.stories.moderated or a.s.s. Even a single
paragraph would be appreciated. It is exercising your creativity, even
if you don't think of yourself as creative. Most people die with their
music still inside them. You don't have to be one of them.
==== ====== ======= ======= ======== ======== ======== ======
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Date: Mon Jun 19 00:19:01 2000 GMT
From: dr_mentor@redneck.gacracker.org
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--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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