0 comments/ 43965 views/ 3 favorites Amanda Visits a Masseuse By: anon1940 Amanda 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 Amanda 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. Amanda'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 Amanda found the suggestion which I made to her one wintry Saturday morning. We had eaten our breakfast and Amanda 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 Amanda 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, Amanda 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 ``Amanda, 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 Amanda'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. Amanda'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, Amanda 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, Amanda sought further details, asking ``What `aesthetic goals' would you like to see achieved?'' Leaning back in order to stretch Amanda'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 Amanda'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. Amanda'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 Amanda 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 Amanda 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, Amanda 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, Amanda'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 Amanda 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 Amanda and express my gratitude for her response and the courage it required for her to make it. Wanting to act quickly, before Amanda 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, back-room 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 Amanda's body and prepare it before the actual massage began. In that connection, she told me that, starting Friday morning, Amanda should minimize her food consumption 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 Amanda 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, Amanda'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. Amanda 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 Amanda to a full length wall mirror and then, without further ado, began unbuttoning Amanda's blouse. Apparently mesmerized by the situation and Yoko's solicitous manner, Amanda raised no objections, even when, after draping her blouse over a hanger, Yoko unhooked her bra and exposed her breasts. Taking Amanda by the shoulders, she positioned her directly in front of the mirror and, with great delicacy, proceeded to examine Amanda'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, Amanda'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 Amanda 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 Amanda's slacks, placing them on the hanger along with her blouse and bra. Returning to Amanda, Yoko renewed her explorations of her pantie clad body, first measuring Amanda's girth by circling it with her strong hands, and then slipping her hands beneath Amanda's panties to asses and probe the musculature of her belly. Next, dropping to her knees so that her face was at the level of Amanda's crotch, she began to examine Amanda's legs and hips. When she arrived at Amanda's crotch, she asked Amanda 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 Amanda, 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 Amanda. Never would I have guessed that Amanda 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 Amanda 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 Amanda'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 Amanda 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 Amanda 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, Amanda 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, Amanda's more pronounced because of her normally white skin color. Standing next to Amanda'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: Amanda 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 Amanda climb onto the table and lie on her back. Once Amanda was settled, Yoko used the towel to swathe Amanda's body as if she were preparing a mummy for eternal rest. She then patted Amanda on the forehead and departed, promising that she would be back in a few minutes. As soon as Yoko left us alone, I went Amanda'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, Amanda 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 towel from the lower half of Amanda's body, she attached to Amanda'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 Amanda's prone body, Yoko past the belt through the tunnel between the table and Amanda's lower back and then, making sure that it would circle Amanda at her narrowest point, buckled it in place. She then reached under Amanda 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 Amanda 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 Amanda's legs far enough apart to stand between them. Amanda Visits a Masseuse Ch. 02 Amanda Returns for Another Massage As Amanda became painfully aware the next day, the toll which Yoko's massage had taken on her body was considerable. When she woke and attempted to rise, the muscles in Amanda's lower body, particularly those in her region of her belly, pelvis, and inner legs, protested and insisted on reminding her of the duress to which Yoko had subjected them. She had assumed that her bowels would take several days to recover from their stretching, but, much to her surprise, it was her muscles not her bowels which were demanding her attention. Indeed, as she now realized, from the moment that Yoko began working on her, her body had been required to endure essentially continuous strain, first while her legs were splayed to give Yoko unobstructed access to her groin and then while, tightly curled in a fetal position, she danced at the end of the pole with which Yoko controlled the bulb filling her rectum. At the time, she had been too excited to know what a heavy tax her body had been paying for its pleasure, but she did now. When Amanda reviewed in her mind what had been done to her during the time she spent on the Yoko's table, she immediately understood that her thighs and groin had cause to be sore. However, it took her longer to comprehend why the muscles in her lower belly felt the way they did. Only after she began rubbing them did she begin to fully appreciate just how rigorous, albeit subtle, a workout Yoko's bulb had given them. Indeed, as her fingers explored their surface, she realized what a crucial role her abdominal muscles had played in enabling her body to accommodate the manipulation of her uterus and other internal organs by the bulb embedded in their midst, not unlike the role they would have been playing had she been giving birth. Amanda found these musing simultaneously disturbing and intriguing. On the one hand, it disturbed her that she had given Yoko such mastery over the most intimate parts of her anatomy. On the other hand, she could not deny that much of the excitement she had experienced derived from the knowledge that she had abandoned control over her own body and ceded it to Yoko. Thus, when Amanda finally rose and headed to the bathroom, she was still conflicted, but she was no longer in any doubt about the source of the soreness in her legs and stomach. Several days past before either of us mentioned Amanda's massage. Knowing that she was still struggling to resolve her own ambiguous feelings about the experience, I did not want to broach the subject and was content to have her bring it up when she was ready. Nonetheless, although she did not talk about it, I noticed a change in Amanda's behavior, particularly when we were having sex together. Specifically, she exhibited a level of abandon which she had not shown before. In the past, she had been more reticent and passive, but now she openly expressed her passion, both verbally and physically. For instance, as she approached orgasm, she brought her whole body into the act, wrapping her legs around me to draw me deeper into her body and emitting moans of satisfaction when she felt me stretching her vagina and pressing against her cervix. She had always enjoyed sex, but she had previously been much more reserved about the pleasure it gave her. I attributed this change to our visit with Yoko and was anxious to learn whether she recognized and appreciated her own transformation. Thus, I was pleased when, one evening during dinner, Amanda brought up the topic. "You know, I have been thinking a lot about my massage. Indeed, it was a life altering experience. In particular, I never before realized that essentially every part of the female body is susceptible to sexual stimulation. Before Yoko suspended my legs and strummed on the tendons in my groin, I would not have guessed that such treatment would be tolerable, much less pleasurable. Even more surprising to me was the intense pleasure I got from her manipulation of the bulb inside me. You have never entered me that way, and I never thought that I would want you or anyone else to try. However, Yoko seems to have cast a spell over me, a spell which, at the same time, anesthetized and opened my mind. Normally, I would have rebelled had someone first introduced a bulb into my bowels and then used it to massage all the organs in the vicinity, but somehow, although I was keenly aware of what she was doing and knew that I should make her stop, I discovered that I was wrong and that what I really wanted was for her to continue. In some ways, what strangest of all is that, in spite of my embarrassment at the time and the residual discomfort which I suffered later in my lower body, I would like to have her work on my body again. She said that she had other experiences to which she would enjoy introducing me, and I find myself increasing curious to find out what they are." Taken aback by the abruptness and directness with which she had made her thoughts known, I was not prepared to respond immediately. I wanted to be just as honest and direct as she had been, but I had reservations about divulging thoughts and emotions which, up to then, I had hidden from her. "Amanda, you surely are aware that your experience made an enormous impression on me as well. Of course, it was your body which bore the brunt of Yoko's attention, but being a witness to what she did to it was as emotionally trying for me as it was for you. Watching her assume such total control over your body and seeing you so readily acquiesce altered my relationship to the body which I had come to think you would share with only me. I won't deny that I enjoyed watching the contortions which she made you perform or that I was not sexually excited by the positions she made your body take and the manipulation to which she subjected it. I doubt if you know just how beautiful and seductive you looked while you danced to her tune. On the other hand, I will not pretend that, as exciting as it was, I was not jealous of her mastery over you. It injured my male pride to realize that someone else, and a woman at that, is capable of providing you sexual pleasures which I cannot." Clearly touched by my revelation, Amanda leaned across the table, took my hands in her own, and said "You and your male pride. Why should one limit ones sexual gratification to a single source any more than one limits ones intellectual gratification to a single source? You enjoy reading and you enjoy movies, and you see no conflict between these activities. I agree that sex is different and appreciate that there are important reasons to practice fidelity to ones spouse. That's part of the cement which holds a family together. However, what happens in Yoko's studio has nothing to do with procreation or family. There is no rational reason for you to be insulted or jealous just because I enjoyed putting my body in her hands and would like to do so again. I'm not going to abandon you for her! All that I want is to experience what she has to offer me. I'm sure that you have noticed changes which she has already effected in my sexual behavior and appreciate the concomitant expansion of my sexual horizons. So why shouldn't both of us want to have her continue? Of course, I will not go back to Yoko over your objections. Our relationship is far more important to me than anything she can offer me, and I won't jeopardize it for mere sexual gratification. On the other hand, I see no reason for you to think that my relationship to you might be endangered by my relationship to her." A primary reason why I married Amanda is her intellectual integrity and her willingness to confront issues head on. However, I had not realized that her sophistication extended into the realm of sexual matters. In fact, I had thought that was the one area into which she was disinclined to delve intellectually. Heretofore, sex had been an activity in which she readily indulged but did not discuss. Now, for the first time, I could see that,if anything, her ideas about sex were more liberated and deeper than my own. She clearly understood the distinction between its biological and social function in propagating the species and its secondary function as a source of pleasure having nothing to do with procreation. Further, I could see that the only reasons for my not agreeing with her were vestiges of conventionally accepted verities whose validity was no longer as obvious as it once thought to be. In other words, there was no way for me to object to her plan other than admitting to myself and her that I had failed to liberate myself from inhibitions acquired from my parents. In addition, I too was intrigued by Yoko's parting words and excited by the prospect of learning their portent. Thus, after regaining my composure, I said "You are right. It is foolish of me to fear that our relationship is endangered by what goes on at Yoko's studio, and, seeing as it was I who made the original suggestion, it would be unfair of me to allow my fear to deny you an experience which you obviously crave. Tomorrow you should call Yoko and set up an another appointment." When I returned from work the following evening, I found Amanda sitting bolt upright, and completely naked, on the rug in the middle of our living room. With her eyes half closed, she seemed to be a trance. On closer examination, I realized that she was practicing yoga and that she was in a classic lotus position with her legs crossed, her feet tucked in the crease between her upper and lower legs, and her hands turned up and resting own her thighs. Once I had recovered from my initial surprise, I could not but appreciate how peaceful and lovely she looked, and, except for the rigidity of her posture, how totally relaxed she appeared to be. Thus, not wanting to disturb her, I sat down on a chair facing her and drank in the image she was presenting. With each intake of breath, her breasts rose and her tummy rounded into a beautifully contoured bowl, which would flatten as she exhaled. Otherwise, she remained absolutely still. After continuing for another ten minutes, breathing deeply in slow, measured breaths, Amanda began to emerge from her self-induced trance and at last acknowledged my presence. Smiling at me, she said "You're wondering what's going on. Well, I called Yoko this morning and made an appointment for next Saturday, again starting at 9. In addition to the dietary restrictions which she prescribed for me last time, she gave me instructions which, to the extent that I follow them, will increase the receptivity of my body to what she has planned for it. Between now and Saturday, she wants me to spend half an hour each day practicing yoga exercises. For this purpose, she had me drop by on my way home to pick up a device which she recommends my using to improve my posture and muscle tone. As you probably noticed, my posture is better than normal. That's because I am sitting with a rather long dildo embedded inside me. The dildo consists of a shaft mounted on a circular plate, which is hidden beneath me. Before assuming this lotus position, I slowly lowered myself onto the shaft. Due to the size of the shaft, it took me some time to get the whole thing inside me, and, at first, after I had it inside, I was sure that I wouldn't be able to keep it there for half an hour, especially with my legs crossed so that my entire weight bears down on the shaft, stretching my vagina and pressing against my cervix. However, after several uncomfortable minutes, I felt my uterus shift to accommodate the intrusion, and when this occurred, the discomfort was replaced by a exquisitely satisfying feeling of repleteness. Even though I have been completely still, waves of sensation have been radiating throughout my lower body. At the same time, because my uterus is being pushed up and seems to be pressing against my diaphragm, I have to monitor my breathing very carefully, in precisely the way that one is supposed to when doing yoga. As a consequence, this has been my most successful attempt to achieve the benefits which yoga is designed to give." Once again I was staggered by Amanda's transformation. Before our visit to Yoko's salon, she would have never spoken, especially with such equanimity,about having a dildo lodged inside her vagina and the effect it was having on her body. In fact, I cannot imagine her former self ever willingly allowing one inside her body. But there she was, calmly extricating herself from the pedestal on which she had spent the last half hour and talking about her intention to repeat this exercise on each of the two days remaining before our appointment with Yoko. It was obvious, both from the ease with which she was able to remove the dildo and the flush of color which had spread over her naked body, that she was in a state of considerable sexual excitement. However, she gently refused my invitation to finish the job which the dildo had begun, saying that Yoko thought it best for her to conserve her sexual energy. Somewhat petulantly, I said, "You mean that she wants you to be abstinent until after your massage? That seems a little unfair, particularly if I am going to be treated each day to a display of the sort I was today." Coming over to my chair and leaning forward so that her breasts hung like ripe fruit before my eyes, Amanda coquettishly answered "Yes, that's exactly what she wants. This time, both of us are going to suffer a little, but imagine our eventual reward!" Mildly annoyed by her smug tone but enchanted nonetheless, I responded "O.K., if that's the way its going to be, then I insist that you let me take my revenge by making you regret your vow of chastity. If you agree to those terms, place your hands on the arms of this chair, spread your legs a little, and keep your breasts available to me." Apparently accepting my deal, Amanda moved her legs so that they straddled my knees and hunched her shoulders so that her breasts swayed enticingly just inches from my face. Reaching one hand into the juncture at her crotch and the other to the cones of her hanging breasts, I enlisted all my skills to bring her to the threshold of orgasm. Using one hand to alternately set her breasts in motion by tapping on their sides and arrest their motion by pulling gently on her erect nipples while simultaneously using the fingers of other hand to delve into the warm valley between her labia and stroke her clitoris, my efforts were quickly rewarded. Soon after I began, Amanda was unable to remain still: throwing back her head and rotating her hips in sensual circles. For a while, the only sounds she made were increasingly audible sighs. However, as her excitement grew, her frustration overwhelmed her and her sighs turned to pleas that I stop torturing her. When I sensed that she could stand no more, I abruptly stopped and, with a sly smile of satisfaction, pushed her away, saying "I do not want to be responsible for you disobeying Yoko's instructions." Then, putting my hands on her hips and turning her until she was facing away from me, I gave her a slap on the rear and said "Perhaps you should take the advise usually given to men in your state. That is, go and take a cold shower." The tension grew over the next couple of days. Returning each day to find Amanda perched on her dildo, I found it increasingly difficult to release my own frustration by simply exacerbating hers. Thus, by Saturday morning, both of us were relieved that the waiting was over. However, confronted by the reality of putting her body back into Yoko's hands, I could tell that Amanda's relief was tinged with something approaching fear as she prepared for her appointment. Although she bravely tried to hide her fears, it was clear that she was remembering her previous visit to Yoko and the demands, both physical and psychological, which it had made on her. Nonetheless, in spite of her reservations, she never considered the option of canceling her appointment, and so, at 8:30 sharp, we headed out the door on our way to Yoko's salon. Once again, Yoko met us at the door and ushered us into her studio. After closing the door, she positioned Amanda in front of her and immediately began removing Amanda's clothes. When Amanda was down to her panties, Yoko took a step back to scrutinize the body revealed before her. Running a hand over Amanda's front, Yoko patted Amanda's firm tummy and said "I am pleased to see that you have followed my instructions. Your posture has improved and your tummy has firmed." Then, taking a step forward and probing with her fingers through the thin material covering Amanda's stomach, Yoko continued "On your last visit, I appreciated these subtle curves and the charming bulge just below your navel, both of which have been enhanced by your yoga exercises. Today I plan to reward you for your efforts and will concentrate on this lovely belly of yours. At times this will entail your tummy having to perform in ways which you will find difficult to bear. However, just as I did last time, I assure you that the pleasure you ultimately will derive will more than compensate for whatever you suffer. In the process, I hope to teach you to regard your stomach as a potential source of erotic pleasure, one which you will want to have become an integral part of your sexual activity." As an afterthought she added "I seldom have the opportunity to work on a body which is as well suited as yours for the joys I can bring it." While she spoke, Yoko continued her intimate exploration of the region about which she was talking, but Amanda never objected, having, as she had on our previous visit, fallen under the Yoko's spell. When Yoko was finished, she took Amanda's hand and led her to the door behind which waited the tub in which she would prepare Amanda's body for its sensual ordeal. They remained in the tub room for slightly more than twenty minutes. Aside from the occasional sound of splashing water, I heard nothing to indicate what transpired during their absence. I only knew that, as distinguished from the last time, Amanda voiced no complaint about whatever liberties Yoko was taking, and, just as last time, when they reappeared, I was struck by the contrast between Amanda's glowingly pink and generously feminine nakedness and Yoko's scantily clad, trim, nearly boyish, figure. Guiding Amanda to the massage table, on which she had placed a padded mat, Yoko asked Amanda to lie flat on her front, with her arms folded and her chin resting on her hands. Yoko then hopped up onto the table herself, straddled Amanda's prone body, and reached over her head to grasp a bar which was suspended from a short chain attached to a track in the ceiling. Grasping the bar with both hands, Yoko placed her left foot smack in the middle of Amanda's upturned rump and explained "Amanda, I am going to use a Japanese massage technique in which the role usually played by the masseuse's hands is played by her feet. Obviously, the pressure that be exerted with ones feet is significantly greater than that which is possible with ones hands. Thus, only an expert should attempt to administer such a massage. To accustom you to the technique, I will begin by working on your gluteal muscles. When I put my weight on them, they may complain a little. However, I am confident that they will soon learn to accommodate my weight and that you will then feel only a pleasant burning sensation as I continue manipulating them." Having told Amanda what to expect, Yoko shifted her weight to her left foot and stepped onto the rounded surface of Amanda's buttock. Once she was up, Yoko used her hands on the bar above head to simultaneously steady herself and modulate the pressure she was bringing to bear on Amanda's rump. Then, after she had familiarized herself with the terrain, Yoko subjected each and every portion of Amanda's bottom to a systematic massage, using her toes and heels to compress and knead the muscles under her feet. Initially, Amanda found it difficult to stand what was being done to her behind. She grunted each time that Yoko changed positions, and it took a couple of minutes before she experienced the pleasure which Yoko had promised. Amanda Visits a Masseuse Ch. 02 When she did, she communicated her relief by lifting her head and, smiling at the anxiety written on my face, told me that I had no need to be concerned, saying "My bottom has always been too large and now its being forced to pay a price for its size. If Yoko keeps working it for long enough, it's going to be as flat as a pancake." Rocking back and forth, Yoko continued for about ten minutes, occasionally moving her feet to the soft flesh at the top of Amanda's thighs and once briefly delving with her toes into the moist warmth of her crotch. When she decided that Amanda's rear had had enough, she asked "Amanda, before I turn you over, I am wondering whether you would give me permission to do something which I seldom do to my non-Asian clients. Namely, as you probably know, Asian aesthetics are somewhat different from yours. In particular, breasts like yours are considered too large, and if an Asian girl's breasts are as large as yours, they are bound to make them look smaller. Having had their breasts bound when they were young, many of my Asian clients enjoy having me compress their breasts for them. The way I do so is to stand on their shoulder blades while they are lying as you are now. My breasts are too small to have been ever bound, but my clients tell me that they get great pleasure from compression of their breasts in this way. If you would like to give your breasts this experience, raise your chest high enough for your husband to make sure that you will be lying with their undersides pressed against the mat and the bulk of their mass directly under you." Lulled into a compliant state as she was, Amanda hesitated only a moment before signaling her assent by lifting her shoulders off the mat and holding herself on her elbows while I reached beneath her to arrange her breasts in the way Yoko had prescribed and kept them in place by holding onto her nipples when she lay back down. Rather than bulging from her sides, Amanda's breasts were trapped between her body and the mat and were forced to act as a cushion for her upper chest. As soon as Amanda lowered her body, Yoko took a couple of steps forward, balancing herself by sliding the bar along its track, and gingerly placed her feet squarely on Amanda's shoulder blades while supporting the majority of her weight from the bar. Then, with great care, she increased the weight being born by Amanda's breasts until they were bunched into a fleshy necklace around the rim of her collarbone. By rocking back and forth, Yoko pumped Amanda's breasts, crushing them into the mat when she increased the weight on her toes and allowing them to swell when she shifted her weight back onto her heels. Each time the Yoko forced her breasts to flatten, Amanda released a plaintiff grunt. Nonetheless, she resisted the temptation to protect her breasts, and, when Yoko asked how they felt, she admitted "I never realized how malleable my breasts are. Even though there is no way for them to escape the pressure you are putting on them, they are able to accommodate your weight. This is the way that women must have felt in the old days when they wore corsets which enhanced their cleavage by pushing up on their breasts." After pumping Amanda's breasts for several minutes, Yoko moved her feet further forward until her toes curled over Amanda's shoulders and slowly applied increasing pressure, forcing Amanda's breasts even flatter. "Now that you have learned what it is like to have your breasts bound, imagine having to wear a band around them under your clothes. In traditional Japan, you would be trained to ignore your discomfort and give no indication of the sacrifice you were making to achieve the desired diminution of your bust. You should be glad that you live in a society which appreciates the bounty of your natural assets." Not wanting to try Amanda's endurance too long, Yoko stayed on Amanda's shoulders for less than five minutes before first putting her feet back on the table and then jumping down to the floor. Exhausted, Amanda did not move while Yoko went to fetch a towel and a bottle of oil. Returning to Amanda's side, Yoko poured a generous puddle of oil into the hollow along Amanda's spine, spread it with her hands, and vigorously rubbed it into the receptive flesh on which she had been standing. When the oil had been completely absorbed into the smooth skin covering Amanda's back, buttock, and shoulders, Yoko gave Amanda's succulent rear a friendly swat and told her to sit up. Amanda's rise from the mat was accompanied by a distinct ripping sound as she broke the moist seal which had formed beneath her and was gluing her to the mat. Moreover, once she had succeeded in disengaging herself and was seated on the table, she was confronted by further evidence of the imposition which her time under Yoko's feet had made on the front of her body. Not only was there a mottled pattern imprinted on her normally unblemished flesh, her usually pale breasts were a lived pink and the disks of her aereolae were visibly larger. Amused by Amanda's look of distress, Yoko, in a mischievous tone, told her "Amanda, the discoloration of your skin is temporary. Indeed, I promise you that your peaches and cream complexion will be restored during the next stage of your massage, and, in the meantime I will hide your blemishes under a coat of powder." Yoko then left us alone long enough to gather the equipment she would be using. In her brief absence, I made sure that Amanda still wanted to proceed. To my inquiry she replied "Oh yes, I certainly do. You heard her say that my tummy was to be the center of attention, and, even though I am a little afraid to find out what she meant, I have no intention of leaving before I found out." Yoko returned carrying a can of talcum powder in her hand and a wide, elasticized band draped over her forearm. Placing the band on the table beside Amanda, she sprinkled powder all over Amanda's front, spreading it with her hands from Amanda's throat to the junction of her thighs and, after pushing Amanda's legs apart, into the region around her vulva. The powder did indeed mask the marks on Amanda's body and left a pleasing dusty residue on her skin. When Yoko put the powder away, she asked Amanda to stand up on the table, had me climb up to stand next to her, and then, with the band in hand, joined us herself. "Amanda, I want you to grasp the bar above your hand. When you have a secure grip on it, I will raise it until you are standing on your toes and your body is stretched taut. While you are fully stretched, your husband and I are going to wrap this band around the upper portion of your torso. The whole process should take only a minute or so, but, as you will find out when you release the bar, your waist will be severely compressed but the prominence your lower belly, and especially the rounded bulge below your navel, will be greatly increased." After Amanda had a firm grip on the bar, Yoko pulled on a rope with which, because the mechanical advantage afforded her by a pulley device, she was able to literally lift Amanda into the desired position. Hanging stretched between us, with her rib cage and pelvic bones clearly delineated, Amanda could have been the model for a Bosch painting of a soul damned to purgatory. Thus, Yoko and I waisted no time. Handing me one edge, Yoko asked me to hold it against the line of Amanda's spine while she exerted all her strength to stretch the rest of it around Amanda's suspended body, securing it there by joining the velcro strip at her edge to the one at mine. Working swiftly, Yoko adjusted the band so that it covered the area bounded above by Amanda's breasts and below by her newly narrowed waist. Satisfied that it was properly placed, Yoko hugged Amanda around the hips, lowered the bar, and helped her get her feet firmly planted back on the table. Just as Yoko had predicted, Amanda's girdling had produced dramatic changes. What I found most striking was the stark contrast between her severely restricted waist and the soft curve of her unencumbered tummy, which seemed to have grown to compensate for the reduction which had been imposed on the region above it. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, I cannot say that the alteration in Amanda's figure represented an improvement. On the contrary, her usually pleasing shape had been distorted into something of a parody of its former self: her wasp-waist looked contrived and her tummy protruded. Nonetheless, from an erotic standpoint, her transformation was a total success. Her face and body had the irresistibly vulnerable look of a medieval statue, one portraying the peaceful resignation of the Virgin to her fate. Indeed, even as she struggled to adjust to the band impeding her breathing, she had a beatific smile on her face and her body assumed a relaxed pose in which its new contours were displayed to their best advantage. Running her hands over Amanda's distended belly, Yoko invited me to feel how firm and round it had become. When I did so, I was surprised to find that its roundness belied the demands being made on Amanda's abdominal muscles. Just under their soft cover, those muscles were hard as rock. Tracing with my fingers from Amanda's navel to her mons, I realized that the exaggerated curve of her tummy was far from passive and its maintenance imposed an enormous tax on her abdomen. Seeing my surprise, Amanda smiled and said "Yes, my corset prevents my stomach muscles, particularly those in my lower belly, from relaxing. They're going to be very sore by the time this is over, but, in the meantime, it is very exciting to know they are no longer under my control and that they will have to continue working until Yoko gives them permission." Pleased by Amanda's response, Yoko said that it was time to begin and asked me to return to the floor. As soon as I did, Yoko helped Amanda to lie down with her back flat on the mat. In that position, the shape of Amanda's tummy was even more pronounced, having eclipsed her breasts and become the most prominent feature on her recumbent body. Standing with a foot on either side of Amanda's waist, Yoko retrieved the bar and lowered it to its original height. Then, taking the bar in her hands, she placed one foot at the highest point on Amanda's belly and slowly lifted the second foot so that her was standing on top of the little mountain which she had prepared with such care. Having put at least half her weight on the bar, Yoko was exerting far less pressure than she might. Be that as it may, it was obvious from the pained expression on Amanda's face that her stomach was suffering. Noting Amanda's distress, Yoko said "For the next ten minutes I am going to use my feet to massage your belly. To do so properly, in a way that causes no harm, I will have to employ all my skills. During their massage, your abdominal muscles will complain, and you may sometimes doubt that they are capable of satisfying the demands being made upon them. Nonetheless, I assure you that they can and will make certain that they do. When I stop, you will experience a wonderful sense of relief accompanied by a sense of pride in your accomplishment, an accomplishment which you won't fully appreciate until I reward you for it. For now, simply keep your mind on your belly and what is being done to it." As Amanda told me later, Yoko's words both scared and excited her. Her fear came from her concern that she would fail to meet Yoko's expectations, and her excitement came from her realization that she had no choice. As the minutes ticked by, my admiration for both women increased. Yoko exhibited amazing control over her lithe body as she carefully moved her feet over Amanda's stomach. At no time did she put her full weight on Amanda, but she modulated the pressure she applied with diabolical cunning, never giving Amanda a chance to relax and keeping her on the brink of collapse. For her part, Amanda's stoicism bordered on the incredible. Occasionally, she simply closed her eyes and twisted her head back and forth. However, she was too fascinated to keep them shut for long, and most of the time she kept them wide open, staring in disbelief at her persecuted tummy and its ability to endure that persecution. With just a couple of minutes left, Yoko stopped moving and placed her feet together, centered on the bulge which she so much admired, and staring down into Amanda's eyes said "There is just over a minute to go before I give your tummy the respite it craves. During that minute, I want you to see if you can raise and lower me with your abdominal muscles." Calling on strength and resolve which I had not known she possessed, Amanda bore down and slowly raised Yoko an inch or so before, equally slowly, lowering her. Her voice filled with admiration, Yoko said, "That was wonderful. I could feel your muscles massaging the bottoms of my feet as your stomach swelled and contracted. See if you can do it again." Clearly exhausted but also elated by Yoko's admiration, Amanda once again mobilized the trembling muscles in her abdomen and repeated her Herculean task. As soon as Amanda had completed her assignment, Yoko stepped off her belly and hopped off the table. Back on the ground, she immediately grabbed a towel and began wiping the sweat produced by Amanda's heroic efforts. By the time that Yoko had dried her off, Amanda had recovered sufficiently to ask "You mentioned a reward for my efforts. Please understand that I am not sorry to have had you make my stomach work in the way that you have, but, so far, my pleasure has been much more psychological than physical. Allowing you to control my body gives me an intense, somewhat masochistic, thrill which I never experienced before coming to you. On the other hand, although what you have been doing today stimulates my sexual imagination, it has not provided the physical pleasure which you gave me last time. Is that physical pleasure to be my reward?" Yoko answered, "Amanda, you are a courageous woman and you have earned my greatest respect. Yes, I would very much like to give you physical pleasure now. In fact, if you and your husband agree, during this final part of your massage today, I would like to reward you by bringing you to orgasm. I have not finished yet with your tummy, but what I want to do with it next can be highly erotic, especially when done while you are balanced on the brink of sexual gratification and preparing your body for orgasm. However, many women have a strong aversion to the idea of another woman bringing them to orgasm, especially when it is done overtly and in the presence of a man whom they love. I am not a Lesbian, but I greatly enjoy helping women achieve their full sexual potential. Nonetheless, I do not want to offend either you or your husband by taking too many liberties without your explicit consent. Your behavior last time indicated to me that, even if you have never done so before, you might be open to exploring what another woman can offer you sexually. I will not be hurt if you say that I am wrong, but am I correct?" Although both Amanda and I were stunned by the frankness of Yoko's statement, I think that my shock was greater than hers. After all, since our arrival, she had been continuously in thrall to Yoko, and so being brought to orgasm by her seemed like a natural extension of the control this woman had been exercising over her. I,in my role of witness to the proceedings, was far less well prepared. Thus, I was grateful to Yoko for politely excusing herself so that Amanda and I could talk in private. Feeling that I was the injured party, I was the first to speak. "Amanda, don't you understand the difference between what she is proposing and everything else that she has done? Last time I was reconciled to her sticking that bulb up your ass only because she restricted it to being a prelude to your and my sexual activity. That's entirely different from her being the one who satisfies your sexual hunger." Amanda listened to me with sympathy but was not persuaded by my argument. Choosing her words with care, she responded "You still do not understand that sex is a completely normal and healthy activity. It has a particularly important role in the relationship between husbands and wives, providing them with a pleasurable means to express their love for one another. But there are many ways in which we manifest our love for one another. For example, I enjoy preparing nice meals for you and you enjoy eating them. I also enjoy cooking for other people, not as an expression of love, but because it gives both me and them pleasure. Similarly, if I allow Yoko to bring me to orgasm, it will not reflect one way or another on my love for you. It will be an entirely physical act, devoid of emotional implications." Thinking about what she had just said, she then added "Of course, that is an overstatement. I did not mean sound blase about sex by putting it on an equal footing with food. Instead, what I meant is that my receiving sexual gratification from Yoko should pose no danger to your and my relationship because quite the opposite is the case. Instead, by allowing Yoko to bring me to orgasm will demonstrate to me that sex is not the foundation on which our love is built but only an important part of it. What intrigues and frightens me about her doing so is quite different. Namely, female orgasm entails total surrender, and the idea of making that surrender to someone whom I neither love nor loves me is daunting. If I do, it will be and act of pure carnality, one of which I am both curious and scared to learn whether I am capable." Once again I was disarmed by the depth and sincerity of Amanda's thinking, and so, in spite of my reservations, I told her that I would raise no objections. When Yoko returned, she brought with her a rolling a trolley bearing several pieces of equipment, the largest of which was a bowling ball. After bringing the trolley to the side of the table on which Amanda lay, she asked whether we had reached a decision. With some embarrassment, Amanda and I told her that we had agreed to grant her the permission which she had sought. Clearly pleased by the confidence in her that our permission represented but understanding the awkwardness of the situation, Yoko only responded with a nod before getting down to business. With one hand gently rubbing Amanda's belly and the other next to her head, Yoko outlined her plan. "I know how hard these muscles have worked already and realize that even now they cannot relax entirely. Thus, what I am going to do to you now will be far easier on them than what they have just endured. Instead of making you test their strength again, I am going to require you to exercise very precise control over them, the same sort of subtle control which I had you practice during your yoga exercises. Before beginning, I am going to attach to you a little device which will enhance your awareness of the region in question." Yoko then took from her trolley a narrow plastic belt in the middle of which was mounted a plug. Slipping one end through the gap between Amanda's back and the mat, she positioned the plug directly over Amanda's belly button, pressed down so that it nearly disappeared into Amanda's navel, and then secured it by pulling the free end through a small lock buckle. Returning to Amanda's head, Yoko said "I think that you will learn to love this little toy and will give it to you as a souvenir to take home with you. It's function is to keep you acutely aware of the your navel and its environs, and, as you are about to find out, it's effectiveness is greatly increased by having something pressed against it. For example, some evening when you are going out, you might enjoy wearing this belt discreetly under your blouse and, from time to time, having your husband press on it hard enough to send tingling sensations radiating throughout your lower body. However, because I will occupied elsewhere, I am going to use this bowling ball to exert the pressure which I want to have maintained on your navel, and you are going to be the one responsible for keeping it there. For this reason, I want you to bend your legs and bring your heels as close to your buttock as you comfortably can." When Amanda had complied, Yoko continued "Good. That deepens the hollow at your waist and creates a little crater for the ball to sit in. Tell me how it feels when I have put it there." Amanda Visits a Masseuse Ch. 02 Immediately after the ball was placed on her tummy, Amanda moaned and said, in a tremulous voice, "My God, it feels as if that plug were boring into my gut like some hungry beadle, making my bladder, rectum, vagina, and everything else respond by contracting. It's not painful, in fact it's quite exciting, but it's not easy to bear!" Apparently satisfied that she had produced the desired effect, Yoko said "Now Amanda it's your job to make sure that that ball stays where it is. That will require you to maintain the hollow in your tummy by preventing your abdominal muscles from tightening. I will not distract you until you think that you have mastered that control. When you tell me that you are ready, I will teach you how to achieve a completely passive orgasm, one in which you body is simply a receptacle for the pleasure it is receiving. Because your body is programmed to move in response to intense sexual stimulation, preventing it from doing so will require great discipline and will mean that your climax will be delayed. However, when it comes, I hope that you will agree that it was worth the wait." Amanda spent several minutes accustoming herself to the presence of the ball on her belly. Compared to Yoko's weight, the ball seemed light, and, as she quickly learned, the less she moved the less the plug bore into her navel. Feeling that she had achieved the requisite control over her muscles and anxious to proceed, she turned to Yoko, smiled, and said "I'm ready for my lesson." Taking her cue, Yoko went to the opposite end of the table, stopping long enough at the trolley to pick up an object which, under the circumstances, I assumed must be some sort of dildo. She then lowered the panel on which Amanda's legs had been lying, and took up the same position as she had during our first visit. Lowering both hands to Amanda's up-tilted crotch, she began by carefully brushing aside Amanda's pubic hair to expose the already pouting mouth beneath, saying "You know, until I first did this, I never understood why botanical metaphors are used to describe a woman's vulva. However, when the hair is moved aside, the reason becomes obvious. Like a flower, its shape and texture invite penetration into its core, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. I have in my hand a dildo like the one I gave you the other day, only this one has a handle rather than a stand at one end. When I spread the petals hiding your the entrance to your vagina, I will slowly slide this dildo all the way into you, stopping when I feel it reach your cervix. Then, once it is embedded, I will use it to gently explore the silken walls of your vagina, sometimes stretching them and occasionally pushing its head against your uterus." Watching Yoko, I could tell that Amanda was more than ready for the invasion and that her waiting vagina swallowed its intruder with ease. Instead, her problem was with the requirement to remain still. Each time that Yoko changed the position of the dildo, I could see the muscles in Amanda's tummy clench under the ball resting on its center, and each time this happened, she let out a little gasp as the plug dug itself deeper into her belly button. The effort required to discipline her body not to react was enormous, only equaled by the pleasure she was experiencing. Raising her eyes to look me in the face, she whispered "I feel thoroughly impaled, in two ways at once. There is the delicious impalement by the dildo and the less delicious one by the plug, and, strange to say, I can no longer really distinguish between them. At the same time that the dildo makes me desparate for relief, the plug prevents me from achieving relief. It's as if I were an insect pinned to a board while somebody worries its most sensitive antennae. The difference is that, unlike the bug, I am free, but have no desire, to escape my torment." Looking at me through Amanda's raised legs, Yoko asked if I would like to participate. When I said that I would but that, under the circumstances, my role was not clear to me, she suggested that I take Amanda's nipples in my fingers and apply just enough pressure to gently mimic the pumping that her breasts had received earlier. Hearing Yoko's suggestion, Amanda cupped her breasts in her hands to mold them into soft mounds available for my attention. Her nipples being already fully erect, it was easy for me to grab them and use them to manipulate the breasts which they crowned. Alternately tugging them until her breasts were sharp cones and lowering them until her breasts mushroomed on her ribcage, I was gratified to at last be playing a role, albeit minor, in Amanda's experience. Time passed unrecorded, but, shortly after I began playing with her nipples, it became obvious that Amanda's sensuous torment could not last much longer. Sweat covered her from head to toe, and her breath came in increasingly short gasps. When her climax arrived, it enveloped her whole body at once, sending the bowling bowl flying and wrenching her breasts from my grasp as she abandoned all semblance of discipline and allowed her body to convulse in the way it had been waiting to since Yoko began. It was not only Amanda's discipline which was forgotten. Yoko, beaming from ear to ear, dropped her usual reserve and ran to Amanda's head, cradled it in her hands, and kissed Amanda's exhausted face. "I told you that your effort would be rewarded, and now you know that I deliver on my promises. No client has ever given me greater satisfaction than you have. Should you ever want to return, you will be most welcome." Then, resuming her normal demeanor, she turned to me, bowed, and headed for the door. Just as she was leaving, she looked back at Amanda and said "Don't forget, you are to take your belt home with you," to which Amanda replied, "No, I won't forget because I think that I will leave it where it is when I dress. You never can predict what a husband will do in the back seat of a taxicab." Amanda Visits a Masseuse 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 five feet in radius and was placed so that it passed directly over Amanda'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 Amanda's ankles. Seeing the growing alarm on Amanda's face, Yoko approached her head and, in the most solicitous of tones, explained the purpose of all this paraphernalia. ``Amanda, 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 Amanda to respond, Yoko removed the towel from the rest of Amanda's front, returned to the foot of the table and performed the operations which she had just outlined. When she had Amanda's raised legs tautly attached to the rod and lowered the table panel on which they had been, she pressed her belly against Amanda'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, Amanda's legs opened into a V. Stopping long enough to run her palms along the tendons which were already protruding from Amanda's inner thighs, she comforted Amanda with words of sympathy before resuming. But resume she did and continued bearing down on Amanda'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 Amanda's head, where I kissed away the tears which were by then streaming from her eyes. I expected Amanda 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 to which I readily complied, except for the brief interval during which I locked her legs to the rod. Having got Amanda 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 Amanda's head high enough that she would have an unobstructed view of her own nether regions. ``Amanda, 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 Amanda, Yoko placed her hands on the region of Amanda's groin which she had admired earlier. Burrowing into the hollows at the junction of Amanda'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 Amanda'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 Amanda's contortions, Yoko crooned ``Yes Amanda, 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 ``Amanda, 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 Amanda's body for another five minutes, by the end of which time Amanda was covered in sweat and fast approaching a state of utter exhaustion. As soon as she withdrew her hands from Amanda's crotch, Yoko returned the table panel to its original position, released Amanda's ankles from the cuffs, and did her best to assist Amanda provide her legs the relief which they desperately needed. When Amanda 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 Amanda's head, she hoisted herself up on the table, crouched with a foot on either side of Amanda, and began washing the sweat off Amanda's body. Yoko set about her task with great vigor, thoroughly dousing Amanda'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 Amanda to the table and rolled her over onto her stomach. Seated on Amanda's behind, she then applied the sponge to Amanda's entire back, starting at the neck and proceeding down to her feet. Occasionally, Yoko's own body would rub against Amanda's, once, while Amanda was still on her back, crushing her pert breasts into Amanda's and later, after she had turned Amanda over, molding her front to Amanda's back so that her diminutive curves melded into Amanda's more generous contours. When she was satisfied that Amanda was once again clean, Yoko jumped down from the table, retrieved the towel which she had removed earlier, and used it to dry Amanda off. Finished with her cleansing of Amanda body, Yoko rolled Amanda onto her back, reattached her to the table, and returned to Amanda's legs. Using sturdy bands, which she had brought along with the belt already around Amanda's waist, she encircled each of Amanda's thighs and secured them in place with velcro fittings. By lifting and folding one leg at a time, Yoko next brought Amanda'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 Amanda 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 Amanda was acutely aware after Yoko again dropped the panel and stood with her hands resting on Amanda's tightly stretched haunches. ``Amanda, 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 Amanda'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 Amanda's rear and carefully positioned the point at the center of her anus. Then, reaching between Amanda's bent legs to place a gentle hand on her tummy, she used that hand to massage Amanda'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 Amanda's anus slowly expanded and began to swallow the bulb. When the widest portion of the bulb was entering, Amanda emitted a moan and begged for Yoko to desist. But Yoko ignored her plea and continued until the entire bulb had passed into Amanda's body. Releasing the pole, Yoko placed both hands on Amanda's stomach and began palpating its surface. ``Amanda, 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 Amanda'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 Amanda 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 Amanda'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 Amanda'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 Amanda's gyrations were carefully monitored and thoroughly appreciated by Yoko, who smiled as she choreographed the sensuous movements which she was making Amanda's body perform. Towards the end of the prescribed time, Yoko looked, with a combination of admiration and envy, into Amanda'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 Amanda's massage to an end. After removing the pole from Amanda's rectum, Yoko gently wiped off the excess Vaseline and unhitched the belt and bands by which Amanda had been held. She then came to the head of the table and, bending over Amanda's face, said ``Thank you Amanda. 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.