A Visit to the Masseuse
Mary is justifiably proud of her looks. Her
face is of the sort to which people are naturally attracted, and she is
blessed with a figure
which is simultaneously softly feminine and well toned. When she
is standing naked, the line of her body flows along pleasingly rounded
contours accentuated by the swell of her mature breasts, the nicely
rounded firmness of her belly, and her ample hips. In profile, one
cannot but appreciate the way that, unlike those of a teenager, her
breasts respond to the pull of gravity by assuming the subtle curve of
a suspended droplet. Because her waist is slim and her belly
rounded, her navel tilts up rather than pointing straight ahead,
and her legs,
and especially her thighs, have a layer of soft flesh through which the
hint of toned muscles is visible.
In view of her physical attributes, it is not
surprising that Mary takes considerable pleasure in having others
appreciate her looks.
Each morning, after showering, she inspects herself in front of the
bathroom mirror, removing whatever blemishes and unwanted hair that
she finds, and finishing by brushing her shoulder length mane into a
ponytail. Other than unscented lotion, she uses no make-up, a choice
which is consistent with her taste in clothing. Namely, she never
wears anything frilly and selects only clothes which display without
flaunting her assets. Thus, for example, she wears sweaters which
follow the contours of her figure, but always in a demure manner.
Similarly, her bras cradle her breasts rather than thrusting them at
the world, holding them in a way that neither hides nor advertises
their shape.
Mary's dress and demeanor are the product of her
upbringing. Although her parents had liberated ideas about sex
and the pleasurable role
which it should play, they retained a vestige of the Victorian
prejudices with which they themselves had been inculcated. I say
all
this in the hope that it will make clear exactly how shocking Mary
found the suggestion which I made to her one wintry Saturday morning.
We had eaten our breakfast and Mary was returning to the bedroom after
her shower when I asked if she would enjoy spending some time having
me caress her body before she dressed. This suggestion was not in
itself surprising or new to her. We often indulge in leisurely
sex on
weekends, and one of our favorite preludes involves Mary standing naked
in front of our bedroom mirror while I stand behind her and
caress her body when it is still warm from the shower. Thus,
without hesitation, Mary removed her robe and took up her familiar pose
before
the mirror. Approaching her from behind and cupping her proffered
breasts in my hands, I rested my chin on her shoulder before telling
her what I had in my mind. Not until I felt all the tension drain
from her body and her succulent behind communicate her growing sexual
excitement against my crotch did I say ``Mary, I am wondering whether
you have ever thought about having your body worked on by a masseuse.
I am not talking about some sort of chaste massage designed to mask all
sexual implications of what is being done to you. On the
contrary, I am imagining a massage given by someone who is well aware
of those implications and not shy about them. Someone who
appreciates the female anatomy and enjoys manipulating it in ways which
can bring pleasure to both the client and anyone else who is
present.
I say anyone else because, besides the masseuse, I would like to be
there and, if appropriate, even participate.''
As I spoke, I ran my hands over Mary's front, using
them to simulate the sort of intimate probing to which I was imagining
it being
subjected. At the same time, I watched the expression on her face
as she listened to what I said and tried to reconcile the conflicting
emotions my words produced. On the one hand, she could not deny
that the idea excited her and evoked images which she herself had
occasionally had. On the other hand, these were thoughts which
she had dismissed on the grounds that other people might consider them,
but they were not the sort on which she and her ilk should dwell.
Mary's face reflected her consternation, and I knew better than to
interrupt. Instead, I contented myself with alternately squeezing
the flesh which forms the walls of her navel and running my fingers over
the sensitive tiny nodules which circle her nipples. After a few
minutes, Mary asked, in a somewhat petulant tone, ``What exactly is
that you would like to watch being done to me? You already know
the details of each and every part of my body.'' Not wanting to
scare her
but, at the same time, wanting to be honest, I replied ``Yes, I know
your body well. However, I would like to watch someone else
getting
to know it and mold it in ways which I have never tried. You and
are lovers, and my relationship to your body is inseparable from the
other
aspects of our relationship. Another person, one who is not your
lover, would provide an emotional, if not sexual, indifference which I
cannot have. Thus, that person's handling of your body would have
an aesthetic quality which mine cannot achieve.'' Still skeptical but
nonetheless intrigued, Mary sought further details, asking ``What
`aesthetic goals' would you like to see achieved?'' Leaning back
in
order to stretch Mary's body into a taut arc, I answered ``Look at
yourself in the mirror. Can you see how this position completely
alters the way that your body is presented? Look how your breasts
have risen and flattened on your chest and your usually rounded tummy
has been transformed into a flat plane under which your stomach muscles
have been drawn into smooth sinews. Just imagine how much
more dramatic alterations could be wrought by someone trained to
understand and manipulate the female body, a person whose only
interest in you is as a potentially exquisite sculpture.''
When I delivered this explanation, I felt a tremor
run through Mary's stretched body, but whether it was a tremor of fear
or excitement I
could not tell. Fearing that I had gone too far, I released her
and took a step back. Mary's face and body language were sending
ambiguous signals. I could see that my words had resonance with
some of her own secret fantasies, but I suspected that these were
fantasies
which she preferred to keep secret. Under the circumstances, it
was obvious to me that Mary would need time to think and that I would be
well advised not to pursue the matter until she broached it again
herself. Whatever would be the eventual consequence of my
suggestion,
our Saturday morning dalliance was at end. In fact, it was a
couple of days before Mary returned to the subject, but, when she did,
I was
pleased to find that she obviously had given it serious
consideration. The question which both bothered and peeked
her imagination was
exactly what would be done to her body were she to agree. She
had, after exercise, occasionally indulged herself by having a rubdown,
but, aside from the fact that they involved having someone else touch
her body, those had been completely asexual. ``Would I be naked
while
the masseuse worked on me?'' I told her that she probably
would. ``Would I be expected to assume uncomfortable or
embarrassing
positions?'' I told her that she might be made to accept
both. ``Well then, what is in it for me?'' My answer this
time was a bit of
a hedge. ``I am hoping that, in spite of, and maybe partially
because of, the discomfort and embarrassment, you will experience a new
form
of excitement. An excitement which comes from a sense that you
and your body have, for the moment, been separated and that you have
become a spectator who can appreciate the sacrifice which your body is
being asked to endure.'' I could tell that this answer did little
to
assuage her concerns, but I could see that she had absorbed it and
would incorporate it into her thinking.
After this exchange, Mary did not raise the topic
for several days. Then, during dinner on the Thursday following
my initial suggestion,
she suddenly brought it up again and announced ``I have given your
proposal a lot of thought and have decided to accept it. I want
the
masseuse to be a woman. As I understand it, one of your goals is
to broaden my sexual horizons. I have often wondered what it
would be
like to yield control over my body to another woman, and this seems
like an ideal opportunity to find out. In addition, I suspect
that,
unless he were either homosexual or asexual, a man would be unable to
maintain the detachment which I gather you want. Also, I would
like
to know that the person in charge has first hand knowledge of the
female anatomy and psyche.'' Having thought that she had
dismissed my
idea as unacceptable, Mary's words took me by complete surprise.
Perhaps most surprising to me, having not myself given much
consideration to the details, was her decision that the masseuse be a
woman. I had noticed that Mary had always shown a certain reserve
around other women, especially when anything sexual was
involved. Thus, her insistence that the masseuse be a woman
came as a
considerable shock, especially because of the explanation which she had
provided. Nonetheless, I quickly recovered and went over to hug
Mary and express my gratitude for her response and the courage it
required for her to make it.
Wanting to act quickly, before Mary had second
thoughts, I searched the internet for massage parlors which would
satisfy us. Because our
requirements were out of the ordinary, my task was not trivial.
Most of the advertisements were either for high-end establishments
offering
various forms of physical therapy for pampered women or for
seedy, backroom parlors catering to women with perverse sexual
tastes.
Finally, I found one which appeared to be hopeful. It claimed to
serve discriminating women who want to discover more about their
physical nature. When I called the next morning, the voice at the
other end was that of a polite woman whose mild accent indicated that
English was not her first language. However, when, with some
hesitation, I gave an stumbling explanation of what we were seeking,
it was clear that she immediately understood our needs and was prepared
to deal with them. In fact, wasting no time, she told me
that, due to a cancellation, she could accommodate us on Saturday
morning. When I said that we were available that day, she asked
if we
could come for two hours, starting at 9. I said that we could but
that we had not anticipated that we would need two hours. She
replied
by saying that the massage itself would last only an hour but that she
wanted us there an hour early so that she could become acquainted with
Mary's body and prepare it before the actual massage began. In
that connection, she told me that, starting Friday morning, Mary should
minimize her food intake and, on Saturday, should have nothing for
breakfast except liquids. Mystified as I was by these
instructions,
they reassured me that the person who gave them was no amateur and knew
her business.
Normally Mary would have found these dietary
requirements difficult. However, ever since I had mentioned my
idea, and even more so after
she had acceded to it, Mary's appetite had diminished as her
trepidations grew. Thus, she only nibbled at her food on Friday
and
was happy to have only juice and coffee for breakfast on
Saturday. After breakfast, she disappeared into the bathroom,
where she remained
longer than usual before emerging to select the clothes which she would
wear. I was interested and pleased to note the care which she
was expending on her toilet, attributing it to her desire that she
outshine whatever feminine competition she was about to
encounter. In
any case, at 8:30 sharp she was ready to leave, dressed in a blouse and
slacks which complemented her figure. After saying how nice she
looked, I took her arm and we headed out for our appointment.
During our taxi ride, neither of us said a
word. Mary was deep in thought, and I did not want to disturb
her. The place at which we
arrived was a pleasant looking, one story house in a prosperous
district, and, when we rang the bell, we were greeted by a young Asian
woman who introduced herself as Yoko. Yoko, who was dressed in an
attractive silk wrap-around, was a rather diminutive woman with an
animated face and beguiling smile. However, as we were to soon
discover, her diminutive frame and inviting smile belied a steely body
and will.
After ushering us inside, she brought us to a warm,
sunny, sparsely furnished room dominated table at its center.
Soon after entering
this room, Yoko gently guided Mary to a full length wall mirror and
then, without further ado, began unbuttoning Mary's blouse.
Apparently mesmerized by the situation and Yoko's solicitous manner,
Mary raised no objections, even when, after draping her blouse over a
hanger, Yoko unhooked her bra and exposed her breasts. Taking
Mary by the shoulders, she positioned her directly in front of the
mirror and,
with great delicacy, proceeded to examine Mary's breasts. Using
only the tips of her fingers, Yoko seemed to be testing their
resilience,
pressing just hard enough to indent the surface under her knowing
fingers. Even though she had not touched them, by the time that
Yoko
withdrew her hands, Mary's nipples had grown to their full length and
stood rigid as little sprouts emerging in the spring. Obviously
pleased by what she had found and the reaction she had produced, Yoko
looked up into Mary face and said ``Your breasts are both lovely and
deliciously responsive. Mine are responsive, but they seem
insignificant in comparison to yours.''
Yoko next undid and removed Mary's slacks, placing
them on the hanger along with her blouse and bra. Returning to
Mary, Yoko renewed her
explorations of her pantie clad body, first measuring Mary's girth by
circling it with her strong hands, and then slipping her hands beneath
Mary's panties to asses and probe the musculature of her belly.
She then dropped to her knees, so that her face was at the level of
Mary's
crotch, and began to examine Mary's legs and hips. When she
arrived at Mary's crotch, she asked Mary to spread her legs slightly
and then,
using both hands, grasped the flesh at the very top of each leg,
probing the soft flesh which covers the groin until she could squeeze
the tendon underneath. Without lessening her hold, she again
addressed Mary, saying ``You have fine legs, and I particularly admire
this luxuriously pliant and sensitive region at their tops. I
will visit it again.''
Watching all this, I became convinced that Yoko had
cast a magic spell over Mary. Never would I have guessed that
Mary would willing
endure, much less apparently enjoy, such an intimate examination of her
body, especially one conducted by another woman. When Yoko
rose
from her knees, she took Mary by the hand and led her to a door, which,
when she opened it, revealed a small room which was nearly filled
by a
large wooden tub with a thin mist of steam hovering over its
center. Sensing Mary's confusion, Yoko explained that this
was a traditional
Japanese bath, meant to provide one of the few creature comfits enjoyed
by generations of Japanese. Coaxing Mary to follow her
inside, she shut the door behind when they were inside. Exactly
what was happening behind that closed door I could only guess from the
occasional sounds which reached me. Shortly after the door
closed, I heard unmistakable sounds of splashing and then only a few
nearly
inaudible words punctuated by intermittent sighs of contentment.
Then there was silence until, after about twenty minutes, I heard Mary
voicing what I interpreted as a protest. However, her protest
must have been of short duration since I heard nothing more until the
two
of them emerged after an absence of nearly half an hour. When
they re-entered the room in which I was waiting, Mary was completely
naked
and Yoko wore only a bolt of cloth which was round around her waist and
past between her legs. Both women had acquired a deep pink hue,
Mary's more pronounced because of her normally white skin color.
Standing next to Mary's generously endowed body, Yoko's trim figure
looked nearly boyish. Her small, firm breasts and slim torso
could have belonged to a teenager just entering puberty. Together
they made
an enticing display of contrasting female beauty: Mary all lush curves
and Yoko without an ounce of excess flesh.
After spreading an enormous, soft towel on top of
the sturdy looking table, Yoko had Mary climb onto the table and lie on
her back. Once
Mary was settled, Yoko used the towel to swathe Mary's body as if she
were preparing a mummy for eternal rest. She then patted Mary on
the
forehead and departed, promising that she would be back in a few
minutes. As soon as Yoko left us alone, I went Mary's mummified
form,
leaned over her up-turned face, and cradled her head in my hands.
The expression on her face was one of such total calm that I was
reluctant
to interrupt her reverie. On the other hand, I was too curious
about what had transpired inside the bath cabinet for me to resist
inquiring. When I did, Mary smiled and said ``I have never been
so clean! After I climbed into the tub and had become accustomed
to
water temperature, Yoko joined me and scrubbed literally every inch of
my body with a large sponge. I assure you, no part of me was
omitted.'' Wanting to know about what I had interpreted as a
protest, I pressed her for further details. ``When she was done
with my
surface, Yoko had me float in the water and spread my legs. Armed
with a large rubber syringe, she administered a thorough douche,
repeatedly flushing my vagina with large quantities of warm
water. It was after she had completed my douche that I protested
when she
introduced the syringe into my rectum with the obvious intention of
giving me my first enema since I was a child. When I understood
what
she had in mind, I protested both the indignity and the discomfort of
what she intended. To my own astonishment, I had hardly lodged my
protest before Yoko convinced me that my fears were exaggerated and
that an enema need not be the ordeal which I had remembered it to be.
Indeed, Yoko seemed to know exactly how much and how long my body could
accommodate the water she introduced. She gave me several
enemas in succession, each time placing a hand on my belly so she could
monitor the state of my bowels and be sure not to cause me undue
discomfort. I can't say that I enjoyed the process, but I learned
to tolerate it far better than I would have thought possible.''
Finally,
I asked her feelings about having another woman take such
liberties, to which she responded vehemently ``It is impossible
for me to imagine
allowing anyone other than a woman the freedom which Yoko has taken
with my most private parts.''
Our conversation came to a halt upon Yoko's
return. Still dressed as she had been when she left, I was once
again stuck by the contrast
between her slight frame and the sinewy strength which it obviously
possessed. However, Yoko was not there to be admired and went
right
to work. She had brought with her a wide leather belt, which,
after unwrapping the lower half of Mary's body, she attached to Mary's
midriff. The inner side of the belt had a layer of fleece and on
the outer side there were several adjustable straps dangling from
strategically placed grommets. Leaning over Mary's prone body,
Yoko past the belt through the tunnel between the table and Mary's lower
back and then, making sure that it would circle Mary at her narrowest
point, buckled it in place. She then reached under Mary and
anchored
her to the table by attaching a short strap on the back of the belt to
a ring embedded into the table top. Yoko worked so fast that Mary
and
I had hardly time to wonder, much less comprehend, what she was
doing. Instead, we watched in silence when she jumped onto the
table after
shoving Mary's legs far enough apart to stand between them.
Raising herself onto her toes, Yoko reached over her head and lowered a
metal
contraption along a cable which secured it to the ceiling. This
device was a slender steel rod which, with my assistance, Yoko bent
into a large semicircle before having me secure the ends in holes
drilled into the floor. The semicircle was about ten feet in
radius
and was placed so that it passed directly over Mary's hips. Two
thin chains were attached to its inner radius by small runners which
were
designed to slide along a track. At the other end of each chain
was a well padded cuff which, once she was back on the ground, Yoko
attached
to Mary ankles.
Seeing the growing alarm on Mary's face, Yoko
approached her head and, in the most solicitous of tones, explained the
purpose of all this
paraphernalia. ``Mary, I am going to massage your inner thighs,
and while I am doing so, your legs must be fully spread, perhaps wider
than they have ever been spread before. This circular rod will
help me get them into and maintain them in the proper position.
After
having you raise your legs so that they are perpendicular to the table,
I will take enough slack out of the chains to ensure that your
legs remain straight and to transfer part of their weight to the
rod. I will next lower the portion of the table on which your
legs have
been lying and move to a position in which I can begin spreading them
apart. In the process, I will cause you some pain, but I will
proceed
with care and do you no damage. Finally, when they are spread to
my satisfaction and your husband has locked them in place on the rod, I
will introduce you to a form of pleasure which I doubt you have ever
experienced.''
Without waiting for Mary to respond, Yoko removed
the towel from the rest of Mary's front, returned to the foot of the
table and performed
the operations which she had just outlined. When she had Mary's
raised legs tautly attached to the rod and lowered the table panel on
which they had been, she pressed her belly against Mary's buttock and
put a hand on the inside of each leg, just below the knee. Working
slowly, she then applied pressure and, as the pressure increased,
Mary's legs opened into a V. Stopping long enough to she run her
palms along the tendons which were already protruding from Mary's inner
thighs, she comforted Mary with words of sympathy before
resuming. But resume she did and continued bearing down on Mary's
splayed legs until they were nearly parallel to the floor and would
spread no further. Watching with a mixture of awe and horror what
Yoko was doing, I moved to Mary's head, where I kissed away the tears
which were by then streaming from her eyes. I expected Mary to
beg me to make Yoko stop, but she only asked me to squeeze her hand and
remain where I could console her for her suffering, a request with
which I readily complied, except for the brief interval during which I
locked her legs to the rod.
Having got Mary into the position she required, Yoko
took a step back to survey her handiwork. Pleased by what she
saw, she had me fetch a
pillow to raise Mary's head high enough that she would have an
unobstructed view of her own nether regions. ``Mary, I know that
you
are in pain and feel as if your legs were being torn asunder, but I
hope that you can nonetheless appreciate the beauty of your body in
this position. Every muscle and tendon in your lower body has
been drawn to its limit, particularly those in your legs and pelvis,
which
has spread to reveal the full, sumptuous splendor of your hips.
At the same time, I am sure that you have noticed how your mons has been
brought into prominence and that you can imagine how enticingly open
your labia have become. Although I will not be accepting their
mute
invitation, I look forward to watching them swell and open further as I
proceed. Indeed, I urge you to abandon all inhibitions and respond
freely to the sensations to which I am about to introduce you.''
Stepping forward so that her belly was once again resting against
Mary, Yoko placed her hands on the region of Mary's groin which she had
admired earlier. Burrowing into the hollows at the junction of
Mary's thighs, she grasped the tightly drawn tendons and began to
manipulate them with her strong fingers. At first she simply
massaged
them, forcing them to tug on their moorings as she rhythmically rubbed
them back and forth, but Mary's response to her ministrations were
immediate. Moaning and tossing her head from side to side, she
appeared to be trying to escape Yoko's clutches. However, when she
began thrusting her pelvis by flexing her stomach muscles, it became
apparent that the opposite was the case and that, in fact, she was
attempting to make herself more available. Watching Mary's
contortions, Yoko crooned ``Yes Mary, let yourself go. I know
exactly
what you are feeling because I have had this done to me often.
These tendons are anchored to your pelvis in such a way when they are
massaged as they being now, they force your internal muscles to
contract and send delicious sensations radiating throughout your body.
I already know that your vaginal muscles are contracting in sympathetic
resonance, and soon you will feel the tendons supporting
your uterus joining the dance.'' After a while, Yoko switched
tactics, strumming on the cords of muscle which she had been massaging
and saying ``Mary, you have become a musical instrument on which I am
playing an exquisite, soundless symphony. Feel how you reverberate
each time I strum on your tendons. Because you have never had
this done to you before, I will have to stop soon. Nonetheless, I
can tell
from the way that your labia have blossomed, this experience is one you
will not soon forget.''
Yoko continued playing her symphony on Mary's body
for another five minutes, by the end of which time Mary was covered in
sweat and
fast approaching a state of utter exhaustion. As soon as she
withdrew her hands from Mary's crotch, Yoko returned the table panel to
its
original position, released her ankles from the cuffs, and did her best
to assist Mary provide her legs the relief which they desperately
needed. When Mary was once again lying comfortably on her back,
Yoko fetched a pail of water and sponge from the bath cabinet.
After
placing the pail on the table next to Mary's head, she hoisted herself
up on the table, crouched with a foot on either side of Mary, and
began washing the sweat off Mary's body. Yoko set about her task
with great vigor, thoroughly dousing Mary's entire front with the warm,
lightly scented water from her pail and scrubbing her vigorously with
the sponge. No sooner had she finished with her front than she
released the strap binding Mary to the table and rolled her over onto
her stomach. Seated on Mary behind, she then applied the sponge to
Mary's entire back, starting at the neck and proceeding down to her
feet. Occasionally, Yoko's own body would rub against Mary's,
once,
while Mary was still on her back, crushing her pert breasts into Mary's
and later, after she had turned Mary over, molding her front to
Mary's back so that her diminutive curves melded into Mary's more
generous contours. When she was satisfied that Mary was once again
clean, Yoko jumped down from the table, retrieved the towel which she
had removed earlier, and used it to dry Mary off.
Finished with her cleansing of Mary body, Yoko
rolled Mary onto her back, reattached her to the table, and returned to
Mary's legs. Using
sturdy bands, which she had brought along with the belt already around
Mary's waist, she encircled each of Mary's thighs and secured them in
place with velcro fittings. By lifting and folding one leg at a
time, Yoko next brought Mary's legs up until her knees barely
grazed her
breasts and then used straps to link the bands around her thighs to the
belt around her middle. Although this new position put far less
strain on Mary than her previous one had, it forced her into a much
more blatant exhibition of the region between her legs. Not only
was
her vulva pointing at the ceiling but the cheeks of her buttock were
spread in a way which left her anus readily available to anyone at the
far end of the table, a fact of which Mary was acutely aware after Yoko
again dropped the panel and stood with her hands resting on
Mary's tightly stretched haunches. ``Mary, a good masseuse
teaches her client new things about her body, and there are many things
which
I would enjoy teaching you about yours. For example, I would have
liked to have made your abdominal muscles produce sensations similar
to, but nonetheless quite different from, those which I evoked from
your groin. However, I have already worked you hard and do not
want
to exhaust you further. Thus, rather than continue on the surface
of your body, I am going to work on it from inside.'' With a sly
smile
on her face, Yoko continued ``As you are well aware, I have you in a
position which presents me with a wide selection of options for
entering you, but I long ago decided which one I was going to
choose. Namely, I am going to introduce you to a technique which
has been used
for many generations in Japan to train Geishas. You may not know
that, contrary to Western assumptions, Geishas seldom have intercourse
with their clients. In fact, many of them remain virgin
throughout their careers. On the other hand, it is thought
desirable that they
experience the sensation of having their bodies entered and the
pleasure of internal stimulation. To provide them this experience,
they, after being bound in the position I have bound you, are entered
through their anus. At first such an intrusion causes some
discomfort
and embarrassment. However, when done by an experienced
practitioner, the discomfort is quickly replaced by a pleasant
sensation of fullness
which can become very stimulating as her rectum and internal muscles
learn to accommodate the intruder. I know that you find these
ideas
disquieting, but I hope that you will consent to my teaching you that
your fears are unfounded.''
Interpreting Mary's lack of response as tacit
agreement, Yoko went to a wall cabinet from which she took a short pole
and a bottle of
Vaseline. At one end of the pole was a translucent bulb of
plastic, about six inches long and, at its widest, two inches in
diameter. The
bulb tapered in one direction to a blunt point at the head of the pole
and to the diameter of the pole in the other. After spreading a
smooth coat of Vaseline over the bulb, Yoko returned to Mary's rear and
carefully positioned the point at the center of her anus. Then,
reaching between Mary's bent legs to place a gentle hand on her tummy,
she used that hand to massage Mary's stomach while the other hand
slowly applied pressure on the pole. Although it initially
appeared that she was making no progress, that was not the case.
Moving to a
spot from which I could view what was happening, I watched with
fascination as Mary's anus slowly expanded and began to swallow the
bulb. When the widest portion of the bulb was entering, Mary
emitted a moan and begged for Yoko to desist. But Yoko ignored
her plea and
continued until the entire bulb had passed into Mary's body.
Releasing the pole, Yoko placed both hands on Mary's
stomach and began palpating its surface. ``Mary, you have born
the worst part, what
comes now is the reward. As I press on your tummy, I want you to
accustom yourself to having the bulb in your rectum. Your
instinctive
reaction is to expel it, but you must learn to resist that impulse and
to acquiesce to its presence.'' From my vantage point, I had an
unobstructed view of the struggle taking place inside Mary's impaled
body. With her legs held as they were by the straps, her bottom
seemed to have expanded in a way which accentuated the resemblance of
her generous figure to a ripe pear, only now that pear had a pole
protruding from its core. At first she was impossible to follow
Yoko's advise, but in a surprisingly short time she gained control
over her body and was able to make it accept the intrusion to which it
was being subjected. In fact, after a couple of minutes, I could
see
that her bowels had relaxed and a smile of quiet pride at her
accomplishment had replaced the look of anguish which had been written
on her face. When she had assured herself that Mary was ready,
Yoko put a hand back on the pole and began moving it in a circular
motion.
``I am massaging you from inside. Like any massage, this one is
stretching your muscles, the only difference is in the muscles being
stretched. Even more directly than was the case earlier, these
muscles are attached to your sexual apparatus and, as they are
stretched, will transmit even more intense sensations to your
vagina and uterus. I will continue for about five minutes,
at the end of
which time I will remove the pole and let you go home to share your
excitement with your husband.''
As Yoko continued manipulating the pole embedded
inside Mary's body, I was amazed to see that she was making it
penetrate deeper and deeper
while turning the handle in ever larger circles, but I was even more
amazed by Mary's response. Indeed, gasping for breath and
clenching
her fists, she was accompanying Yoko with the most salacious dance
which I can imagine. Bound as she was, with her knees tucked up
against her breasts, moving her hips was the only option available to
her for communicating the pleasure and frustration she was feeling,
and move them she did! With each circuit of the pole, she rotated
her hips and buttock in unison with Yoko's hand, simultaneously either
drawing her up legs into a pronounced fetal position or rocking back
and forth on the wings of her haunches. All of Mary's gyrations
were
carefully monitored and thoroughly appreciated by Yoko, who smiled as
she choreographed the sensuous movements which she was making
Mary's body perform. Towards the end of the prescribed time, Yoko
looked, with a combination of admiration and envy, into Mary's face and
told her ``You are a fortunate woman. If you were a Geisha, not
only would you be denied the pleasure of intercourse with your husband,
but I
would have forced you to master the muscles of your anal
sphincter. Before I was done, I would have taught you to accept
the widest part
of the bulb spreading your anus and would have made you to hold it
there until you stopped trying to expel it. I have been taught
such
control and have learned that it can be the source of great
satisfaction. However, it requires dedication beyond that which I
can
expect of you.'' Shortly thereafter, Yoko brought Mary's massage
to an end.
After removing the pole from Mary's rectum, Yoko
gently wiped off the excess Vaseline and unhitched the belt and bands
by which Mary had
been held. She then came to the head of the table and, bending
over Mary's face, said ``Thank you Mary. You are a brave woman
and it has
been a great privilege to work on your body. I hope that you will
give me the opportunity to do so again.'' Finally, she turned to
me,
bowed from the waist, and left the room.
If you enjoyed this story and have any ideas for other stories in this genre, please write to me at [email protected]