0 comments/ 37405 views/ 1 favorites Photo Ch. 02 By: WFEATHER Photo: Asian Sundae Once again, the manila envelope bore no return address, just a cancellation mark from Milwaukee. Inside was only a single photograph. The focal point of this five-by-seven image was the same beautiful young Asian girl from the previous mysteriously-sent photo. She lay upon her back once again, this time on a long wooden bench in a locker room, her wrists and ankles each secured underneath the bench by thick metal cuffs. The wide collar encasing her neck also appeared to be metal, and I secretly hoped for her sake that the inside of the collar was lined with something soft and comfortable. A thick, heavy silver chain had been wrapped over her waist and under the bench, secured by a massive padlock which certainly pulled the chain deep into her seemingly-soft skin from its hanging weight. Her long raven-black hair had been tied into lengthy pigtails, the ends secured by weighted nipple clamps. Whereas the exotic beauty was covered with seemingly bucketsful of semen in the first photo I had mysteriously received, she was instead covered with chocolate sauce in this new photo. There was a little chocolate sauce upon her face, but her torso was absolutely drowning in chocolate sauce, with plenty of "excess" spilling over the sides of her delectable body to fall toward and pool upon the floor. Her breasts had additionally been adorned with whip cream, each fluffy mound of white topped with a single plump red cherry with the stem reaching toward the ceiling. Additionally, whip cream had been purposely added to her hair and had spilled onto her forehead; fortunately, since the scene was a locker room, cleanup would be rather easy for her by simply walking into the shower area - of course, once someone finally freed her of the various restraints. The scene was indeed mesmerizing, inviting. Despite having finished eating a large dinner not twenty minutes earlier, my stomach rumbled softly, making its semi-subtle plea to eat from the Asian sundae in the photo, and to eat of the Asian sundae in the photo. My mouth began to water as I imagined the taste of both chocolate sauce and feminine sauce mixing gloriously in my mouth. ...the same glorious taste being sampled by another young nude woman in the photo, a bald Caucasian woman who lay upon the bench, her face firmly planted between the young Asian's taut thighs. The Caucasian's hands gripped the bound beauty just at the sides of the breasts, her fingertips hidden deep within the deluge of chocolate sauce and the mounds of whip cream. The bald woman's nose was pressed fully into the exotic woman's clitoris as her lips formed an airtight seal just slightly lower, and I happily envisioned myself in her position, my nose and mouth in the same position, my tongue worming its way inside her body to draw out her exquisite nectar and causing the bound submissive to cry out softly as she appeared to be doing in the photo. As the Asian sundae was being eaten, another young woman - clad entirely in shiny black latex with only her small nose and her black-painted lips protruding from her skin-tight clothing, with mirror-style sunglasses obscuring her eyes - sprinkled what appeared to be chopped nuts from a bowl in her left hand. The photo captured several dozen of the broken nuts in midair during their fall toward the bound woman; a few chopped nuts already adorned her stomach, and it appeared that the current group of broken nuts would land upon her chest. My stomach gave another semi-subtle plea to eat the Asian sundae. This exotic beauty was indeed enthralling me, catching me in her most unusual and pleasant spell. The first mysteriously-received photo of this young Asian woman - the one in which she was covered with seemingly bucketsful of thick male seed - had captured my imagination; this new photo had certainly captured my heart. Especially with this newest photo, I dearly desired to participate, to be a part of the action, to taste the chocolate and whip cream and chopped nuts and cherries and liquid lust all mixing together in my mouth like the most popular dessert at a five-star restaurant. I wanted desperately to use my mouth and hands to force repeated orgasms from this mysterious beauty, to cause her to scream loudly and struggle vigorously against her restraints. And when I had eaten my fill, I wanted to thrust myself deep inside her body, again and again and again, making her scream and struggle again, bringing her to yet another climax which would trigger my own and volley my seed deep inside her and... Oh dear... I seem to have splattered her face in the photo. Photo Ch. 03 I returned home from work to find yet another manila envelope with a Milwaukee cancellation in my mailbox. Thinking back on the previous photographic surprises I had found inside similar envelopes sent from Milwaukee, I smiled greatly. Once inside, I made a pot of coffee, then sat at the table with the mail, reading a letter from a longtime friend and sorting through the junk mail before finally reaching for the manila envelope, essentially saving the best for last. Inside was a lone five-by-seven photograph, with no letter of explanation stating why I was receiving these seemingly-random photos. ...not that it really mattered much to me. She lay on her back in a shallow pool of water, her arms outstretched, her eyes closed, her red-painted lips parted just enough to attract the viewer's eye. The same Asian beauty wore a silver bikini, the bikini panty held in place by a tie-string at each hip, the triangular cups of the bikini bra leaving the base of each succulent breast exposed. Through the thin silver material, it was quite evident that she was wearing an O-ring in each pierced nipple, momentarily drawing my mind back to the first photo I had received of her. It appeared that she lay in only an inch of water, likely in a park's wading pool, an observation further heightened by the arch of her back rising up out of the shallow water. The sunlight reflected off the water in a way which served to further highlight this prime example of feminine beauty. She was definitely wet, as if she had been rolling around in the water shortly before the photo had been taken, causing me to focus momentarily upon her flawless exotic skin before returning my gaze to her face. She had cut her hair since the previous photo had arrived in my mailbox. Gone was the waist-length hair, now cut so short that it would not even reach to her shoulders. While the "lack" of hair was slightly disappointing to me, it was a nice cut, a style which suited her quite well. Given the slight parting of her lips and her closed eyes, her facial expression was one of innocence, like that of a sleeping infant. If anything, she could be having a pleasant dream, perhaps a dream of strolling along a secluded tropical beach at sunset. Even with her arms outstretched in this manner, it was a pose reminiscent more of someone sleeping upon a large bed than laying on her back in a wading pool. Around her, the ripples of the water could be easily seen, the sunlight creating minor shadows and shimmers on the floor of the wading pool. At least a dozen red flowers floated in the water around her, their large petals opened fully; in fact, a bee had alighted at the center of one of these flowers, gathering the nectar within. This beautiful woman looked so innocent, so vulnerable, so trusting, so sexy. It was such a stark contrast to the two previous photos I had received of her. ...except for the trail of white emerging from the edge of her mouth and running down her left cheek to the water in the wading pool. This one "minor" detail was the only thing preventing the young Asian woman from being truly "innocent" in this photo. I was a little amazed that there was not any male essence anywhere else upon her face or her body – a very sharp contrast to the original photo I had mysteriously received of her, in which she was bound and completely nude, and may as well have been drowning in semen. "She is such a beautiful, artistic slut," I whispered to no one in particular, my eyes expertly studying the totality of the photograph and wishing I had been there to personally witness the taking of this most unusual picture. Either this mesmerizing beauty had an excellent artistic sense, or she had a highly-artistic manager. I continued to study the photograph for a few more minutes, then went to the den. For years, I had collected digital images of beautiful Asian women, both famous and amateur, from numerous sources online. My scanner had received quite a workout over the past few months as I scanned images from magazines to add to my large collection on one of my external hard drives. And now, I had another such image to add to the massive collection. When I placed the photo face-down on the glass of the scanner, I was surprised to see something written faintly in pencil on the back of the photo: "From Ayumi, with love." At last, my exotic Asian goddess was named. Photo Ch. 04 It had been quite some time since the third mysterious photo arrived in my mailbox, so I was quite surprised to return from work and find yet another manila envelope bearing a cancellation mark from Milwaukee. I purposely waited until after dinner before sitting in my small office to open the envelope. Inside was yet another five-by-seven photograph, with still no letter of explanation stating why I was receiving these seemingly-random photos. ...not that it really mattered much to me. It happened that the photograph had been placed "backward" into the envelope. As I retrieved the photo, I noticed something written in faint pencil, and studied it more closely: "Another special treat from Ayumi." I turned over the photograph to gaze upon the image, and was stunned by the extreme contrast. At the center of the scene was Ayumi, my beautiful yet unmet Asian goddess. In this particular image, she wore a school-style uniform, although it was not the "sailor suit" kind so well known in the West thanks to anime such as Sailor Moon. As she knelt upon the soft-looking grass with her legs spread apart, she wore a navy-blue pleated miniskirt with a matching blazer. Her legs were spread just enough that I could just barely discern her "innocent white" panties beneath the miniskirt. Underneath the blazer, she wore a white blouse with a bright-red tie, although the uppermost button of the blouse was (purposely?) undone. Ayumi was not wearing shoes in this photograph, and her white socks fit well enough that I could almost discern the detail of each toe of her left foot; the angle of her right foot in relation to her right leg and the position of the camera kept her right-side toes hidden from my scrutiny. As in the previous signed photograph I had received from my mysterious teaser, Ayumi's hair was shorter than I would typically like, but it did at least reach to her shoulders. Her eyes held a glazed, unfocused look and somehow seemed larger than usual, and those two elements made the exhaustion of her expression even more emphatic. A deep, intense redness covered her cheeks, and it was clearly not from any make-up she could have worn, for her blush descended down her face and neck and descended inside the white blouse toward her chest, subsiding subtly as the blush cascaded down her beautiful form. The Sawa earrings almost perfectly matched the color of her cheeks while delicately enhancing her flawless, exotic beauty. The soft pink coating of her lips seemed quite pale in comparison to the blush and the earrings, but her slightly-parted lips somehow added to the atmosphere of exhaustion which surrounded her. Her hair was stringy and partially covered her face, which seemed quite fitting for this particular situation. With the fingers of her right hand pressed to the grass behind her and the fingers of her left hand in a similar position between her thighs, I had a sense that if not for the particular position of her fingers upon the ground, she would topple over – such was the extent of her apparent exhaustion. The photograph portrayed a beautiful day. It was clearly late spring, with the leaves thick upon the trees in the background, and a plethora of diverse flowers behind her providing a rainbow of beautiful colors to the image. The grass in the yard was a gorgeous green, cropped rather short and free of any stray weeds. Not a single cloud could be seen in the crystal-blue sky, allowing the sunlight to bathe the scene with perfect brilliance. The photographer had clearly been "lucky" with this photograph, as a cardinal could be seen at the left side of the image, flying through the background. Yet, from head to feet, this exotic goddess was thoroughly drenched. Once again, Ayumi had been the center of attention for a bukkake party. The gooey white seed of unknown scores of men was splattered across the top of her head, dripping down her hair and her face to her shoulders and chest. If the stream of white above her right eye descended any further, it would likely "glue" that eye shut. Even her left Sawa earring was obscenely marred by the whiteness which trickled downward to Ayumi's shoulder. It was clear that at least one volley had made its way down the front of her blouse. Multiple streams of sticky white essence flowed down the sleeves and the front of the blazer, almost certainly ruining the garment and preventing it from serving as anything other than a tangible reminder of this particular event. Additional streams of the sticky whiteness flowed down the miniskirt and along the exotic beauty's legs, anointing the manicured green grass beneath her. Even against the white color of the socks, the male essence was distinctly visible. What made this particular photograph all the more endearing and artistic was that Ayumi was the only person appearing in this image. There were no men to be seen anywhere; there were not even any human-shaped shadows indicating that other people were in the general area when this photograph was taken. In my opinion, the complete "lack" of other people made this particular photograph priceless and worthy of display in the Louvre. "So beautiful," I whispered reverently to her, even though she was several hundred miles away... assuming that she actually did live in the Milwaukee area. I so desperately wanted to travel to Milwaukee, to roam the streets in search of this goddess, to finally be able to meet her and come to know her personally. As much as I immensely enjoy receiving these unexpected photographs of this beautiful young woman, I would love to know her as a person, as a friend. Photo Ch. 05 It had been a long time since a mysterious manila envelope with a Milwaukee cancellation mark had appeared in my mailbox, so when the fifth such envelope was awaiting my return from work, I was overjoyed. Suddenly, the stresses of the day disappeared, and the heavy weight I had been carrying was instantly lifted from my shoulders. From the smile upon my face, anyone who might have seen me making the trek from my mailbox to my apartment door would probably have thought that I had just won the lottery. While a lottery win would certainly have been nice, I had been eagerly awaiting these photos arriving from the mysterious Ayumi, hoping against hope each day that when I opened my mailbox, her latest photo would be awaiting me. Once inside my apartment, I set everything but the manila envelope on the floor near the door, and went directly to the sofa. Sitting comfortably, I carefully opened the envelope, wondering what visual delights were contained inside. Would it be another bukkake scenario? a bondage scene? a close-up of my beautiful Asian goddess deepthroating some extremely lucky guy? a masturbation photo? a lesbian kiss? I slid the photo out of the envelope at last. The back of the photo faced me, and I read the message written faintly in pencil: "Waiting for you... Ayumi" I turned over the photo, and was graced with my sweet Asian goddess in a chair, presenting her unfettered beauty to my admiring gaze. She faced the camera, leaning far back in a dark-stained wooden chair. Brown ropes were quite prominent in this photo. Rope had been wrapped both above and below her breasts, sandwiching the beautiful feminine lobes quite nicely while also securing her upper arms to the sides of her ribcage; more rope cinched the two sets of horizontal wrappings, both between arm and torso and between her breasts, truly causing her firm breasts to appear even more prominent. I could just barely see her fingertips sticking out from behind her back, causing me to believe that her forearms had been lashed together behind her before she had been placed in the chair. Her legs were draped over the long arms of the sturdy wooden chair, with additional ropes securing each thigh to an arm of the chair, keeping her most intimate region fully exposed for the camera's unblinking scrutiny. Fortunately for my sweet Ayumi, the photographer had provided a thick navy blue pillow to cushion her rear from the hard wood, although the pillow aesthetically detracted from the overall effect of the photo in my opinion. She wore black stiletto heels with a small D-ring at the inside of each ankle. From each D-ring dangled a smaller version of a ball and chain, and from the expression of discomfort upon Ayumi's sweet face, the balls were truly constructed of solid metal. Her wide black collar ensured her head would be held up straight and high, the D-ring at the front of the collar the focal point through which ran a thin silver chain connecting her two nipple rings. Interestingly, an additional thin silver chain connected each nipple ring to the opposite ear's small hoop-style piercing. The exotic goddess had clearly been used by several guys. Ayumi's face and chest were practically coated with multiple globs of white, especially on and just underneath her nose. A veritable stream of male essence ran down the valley between her breasts, creating a small pond in her navel. Additionally, more male passion trickled from her puffy, reddened, well-lubricated womanhood to anoint the pillow beneath her and contrast greatly with its navy blue color. I studied the image for a long, long time, permanently burning this picture of my mysterious goddess into my mind. Later that evening, after dinner, I decided to perform a Google Images search, but a search for "Ayumi" and "Milwaukee" did not reveal any clues as to who my mysterious goddess really was. I had suspected that if she was sending these photos of herself, then she was a model for a pornography-related company, but if she was, it was apparently a company without a Web presence. So much for the "easy" way to learn more about the young woman who had captured my heart. It seemed that if I was ever to learn more about her and ultimately find her, I would need to travel to Milwaukee and begin a search "on the ground." But, where would I start? I tried to imagine myself stopping the average person on the street, showing one of Ayumi's photos. "Excuse me, ma'am, but have you seen this beautiful Asian woman with the cum splattered all over her body?" I simply had to laugh at the lunacy of that scenario. Without any better ideas, I scanned the latest photo into my computer, to join the slowly-growing collection of Ayumi images. All I could do was just wait, and hope that the next mysterious manila envelope would arrive rather soon.