When Nancy got home that evening all she could think about was what had happened to her at work. It had been quite a day, one that she would no doubt remember for a long time. Her mind had been in a fog ever since Carol spoke of punishing her. Now she wondered if there were going to be any more opportunities like it. She felt giddy every time she thought about Carol's demand that she wear sexy clothes at work every day.
She wished that her roommate were there, but she was working tonight. Not for sex, as good as that was to come home to. Nancy felt little need for more after so much already. She just wanted her to talk to.
As she thought about the day's events several things became more clear. She realized that she had not resisted the punishment, and, surprisingly, had enjoyed the bizarre kind of stimulation. When Carol had walked in with that nylon jersey dress her head had started to spin. Then Carol told that she had to wear it, and she started to feel hot and tingly all over. The spanking had hurt, but because her butt had been covered by the dress it had not stung as much as she thought it would.
She tried to remember if she had been spanked as a little girl. Yes, come to think of it, there had been a few times, maybe just once or twice. Once her father had caught her playing with a sharp knife just outside their little house. She had been trying to throw it so that it would stick into a block of wood. He had been furious with her, and had put her over his knee and given her a long, hard spanking with his slipper. She had been very angry with her father for spanking her. She could not recall liking it in any way. Today had been different.
Nancy came to Honolulu from a middle class family in Korea rather as a runaway, looking for adventure and excitement after twenty-two years of conservative upbringing. Thus she was more refined than the average Korean girl looking for work in Honolulu, too good to be lost in the hostess bar jungle. It had been almost six months since she started working for Carol, and during that time those dresses had come to symbolize her desire to break away from her old-fashioned upbringing.
At first she had been shocked that women actually wore such things out in public. Then she got to touch them, and discovered how wickedly sensual they felt. Every day she saw women of all ages trying them on, and tried to imagine how it would feel to be touched all over that way. And there were the little comments the customers made, like 'Oh, it feels really good' or 'I don't think I can stand to wear this all evening' or 'Dis kine stuff really turn da boys on.'
She had begun thinking about these scenes when she had sex, and it really turned her on. She had picked out several of the prettiest customers, dressed in the sexiest gowns, and imagined herself looking as sexy as they did. She wanted the dress to feel really good, and began to fantasize that it would tickle her unbearably if worn without underwear.
In one of her fantasies she was dancing with a handsome young man wearing a white dinner jacket. Slow dancing, with him embracing her tightly. The dress slid over her body like water, icy cold water. It tickled all over, and the more they danced the stronger it got. It was driving her mad, a delicious agony that only fueled her lust. Then her partner reached down and started gliding his fingers over her ass, sending chills shooting through her. She held onto him tightly just so that she wouldn't stumble and fall.
Her cunt throbbed, and she wanted him to reach down and touch her there, right on the crowded dance floor. Finally, when she couldn't stand it any longer, she spread her legs slightly and pressed up tight against him, letting her pussy rub against his thigh. The cool fabric pushed up and touched her naked pussy. It felt like ice. Shivers ran through her, and she almost cried out. Her partner responded, pressing against the small of her back and bending his knee a little. On and on they danced, and finally she came, biting him on the shoulder to stifle her moans.
But she didn't have the nerve to just try one on herself, even though she worked in the store. She didn't know why Carol had decided to make her wear that dress, but she had been thrilled that she was finally going to get the chance.
It had felt as good as in her fantasy. Very good indeed, but not in a way that tormented her. She was a little disappointed that it didn't tickle more, but discovered that there was an aspect to wearing it that she hadn't thought of. Wearing the dress made her feel vulnerable. It was so revealing that she might just as well have worn nothing at all. Every bump and curve of her anatomy was visible. It really was little more than a nightgown, something that she would only wear in the most intimate situations. The truth was, she had never worn a sexy nightgown. And all of her underwear was made of cotton, plain white cotton.
Never before had she felt anything like it against her body, and on top of the good feeling it looked rich, classy, and sexy. Wearing it on her bare skin was by no means unbearable, but the feel and look had been a constant turn-on. After returning to the floor she waited for about half an hour, relishing the dress's constant, gentle caresses, then took a break and went to the little employee's rest room. She locked the door and stood there playing with herself, starting by tickling her cunt through the dress, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have a man do that to her. It made her think of that time in Korea, so many years ago. Her body tingled all over, and she finally reached underneath and fingered her clit. Waves of pleasure ran through her. It was all she could do to remain standing, but she was determined to come that way so that she could feel the dress tickling her ass. Then her fantasy changed from being tickled by a lover to the spanking she had received from Carol. She recalled the painful, stinging blows, and at once she came, shuddering, bouncing up and down.
Several years ago, while still a teenager in Korea, she had started playing tickling games with a girlfriend. It had started innocently enough, just a couple of kids goofing around after school, but it developed in a way neither could have anticipated to a rather surprising ending.
In the beginning they had set out to tickle each other and see who could stand it the longest. They had started out sitting on a big sofa in her living room, tickling each other's feet with their fingers, both howling with laughter, lasting only a few seconds until one of them would pull her feet away.
The next day her friend brought some feathers. The feeling was less intense, which allowed them to hold out longer. Within an hour they had striped down to their panties and tried every inch of exposed skin. They even changed the rules, so that one would tickle the other, timing each other and seeing how many minutes they could stand it. They both enjoyed their time together this way, and repeated this scenario many times.
One day her friend asked to be tied down on the bed. Nancy thought this was a wonderful idea, and agreed at once. She was supposed to keep going no matter what for at least fifteen minutes, which was a bit more than either had been able to endure until then. As Nancy began to tickle her friend this way she was swept with a strange feeling. Seeing her friend spread-eagled on the bed, helpless, shrieking with laughter, twisting and turning, struggling against her bonds, she was overwhelmed by a sense of power.
She stopped at the agreed upon time, but as soon as her friend caught her breath she begged for more. The third time, Nancy did not stop. Instead, she lightened her strokes, then within seconds, before her friend could say anything, she went at it some more. Her friend moaned, then cried out when the stronger tickling resumed, but she did not ask her to stop.
After several more minutes of this, Nancy started to brush one hand along the elastic waist band of her friend's panties, still stroking her ribs, armpits and breasts with a feather held in the other. Then she slipped her fingers under the elastic, and started to move slowly down. Her friend became even more frenzied, then uttered as coherently as she could, "Yes. Oh yes, lower!"
Nancy tore off the panties, picked up one of the stiffer feathers, and began to run it up and down her friend's vagina. This produced some very wild gyrations, and her friend began to plead with her, getting some words out between bursts of hysterical laughter, "No, not there, not with the feather! Ah, oh, please stop, I can't stand it. Not there! Don't tickle me there! Ah, too much, ahhh!"
Nancy continued like that for what seemed like an hour, although it must have been just a few more minutes. Her friend's vagina had swollen and turned a kind of pinkish purple. Then she laid her free hand over her friend's vagina, her first finger along one lip, her middle finger along the other, and gently spread them apart.
Now she could see the folds of the inner lips, moist and pink. She began to run the feather up and down this gaping crevice, varying the speed from fast and furious to slow and light. Her friend continued to buck and twist, as if trying to elude the feather, all the while moaning and laughing.
Nancy decided to zoom in on the top of the slit, and in a moment the little nub of the clit popped up, glistening and hard. She focused all of the action of the feather on the clit, still changing back and forth between fast and slow, hard and soft. Her friend was laughing less now, almost not at all, still moaning, groaning, twisting and arching her back. Finally, her friend's body went rigid, and waves of convulsions coursed through her. Nancy kept the feather dancing across the little clit as her friend spewed out cries of anguish, sounding for all the world like she was in terrible pain, suffering some kind of torture.
Nancy finally stopped, untied her friend, and they lay huddled for a long time on the bed. Her friend was limp and exhausted, damp with perspiration, her hair stuck to her face. Finally she looked up at Nancy and said, "That was wonderful!"
They had never played their tickling game again, although they continued to be good friends. In the months that followed Nancy often thought of that episode, or variations of it, when she masturbated. Sometimes she imagined they had switched places, or that she was treated to such an ordeal by a handsome young man. She was curious if a man's penis could be tickled that way, but had never had the chance to find out. What she had come to realize was that masturbating with such a fantasy always produced the strongest orgasms for her.
Years later she had moved to Honolulu, looking for fortune and independence, and had gone to work for Carol a week after arriving. Carol even arranged for her to stay with Teddi, and they hit it off right away. Neither of them had much experience with sex, but were eager to learn. One night, after some very good brandy, Nancy had shared her story, and Teddi had insisted that they try it. Teddi had reacted exactly like her friend had so many years before, and when it was her turn Nancy finally got to find out why. After that they played together whenever they could.
When Nancy returned to work after her break she waited on several customers, and discovered herself remarking casually to them how comfortable the dress was to wear. In no time at all she was horny again.
Around lunchtime she noticed a strikingly good looking young blond woman talking with Carol. The customer kept staring at her, which made her feel uneasy. Then Carol asked her to change into one of the new outfits that had just arrived, a pair of black pants and a matching top. As she went to the dressing room she noticed that the fabric was heavier than that used for the dresses like she had on, but was just as shiny and slinky.
She pulled on the pants first. They were a size six, a bit small, and hugged her ass and crotch tightly. But she was pleasantly surprised to see how the legs flared out from the knee to a really full bell bottom. They looked strange, rather wicked, and very sexy. And they felt really good. The top was made of the same fabric, and fit snugly, pressing hard on her breasts.
When she came out to model the outfit the blond couldn't take her eyes off her. She bought an outfit just like it, and even changed into it and wore it out of the store.
Nancy had kept the outfit on for the rest of the afternoon, all the while enjoying the way it felt. She began to notice a strong feeling coming from her crotch, and realized that the seam was pulling up into her pussy and the selvage was tickling her there. This had been a delightful discovery, and a few minutes later she began to get some really strong sensations from her clit. It felt as if the tip of her clit was rubbing against the crotch seam. She made it a point to keep tugging up on the waist band, and the more she moved around the stronger it got, a sharp, pointed feeling against a background of endless delicate tickling.
When she waited on customers the feeling went away, except once when she waited on a really cute young high school girl. She showed her the grouping and the girl had tried on the pants, and she just about had an orgasm seeing that sweet young girl wearing the same thing, knowing that she was feeling the same sensations. The girl bought the outfit, and after that Nancy kept thinking about her, and the blond, and hoped that they would enjoy the pants as much as she did.
When it was time for her to go she went to change into her own clothes. In the dressing room she paused, reaching down and tickling her cunt, running her long fingernails softly up and down the crotch seam. The tightness of the fabric made it tickle a lot more than when she tried it with the dress. She ran her other hand over her breasts, tickling her nipples, and again the tight fit made it tickle delightfully. She imagined herself tickling that young girl, running her nails over the tight black nylon, sweeping one hand up and down the deep groove between her legs while the other slid over her tightly covered breasts. In seconds she came, the loose, flowing bell bottoms fluttering wildly as she bounced up and down. As she finished changing she hoped that her gyrations in the dressing room had not been noticed.
She started making a pot of rice for dinner, then switched on the TV to catch the six o'clock news. As she sat watching the TV she realized that she wanted to be wearing something like she had worn at work, and felt frustrated at the complete absence of anything like that in her wardrobe. She vowed to save up enough to buy at least one thing that she could wear at home. Then she couldn't decide if it would be the pants, or the dress.
Her day at work had left her sexually drained, which, she realized, very few women could claim. She made a promise to herself to dig out the old broom she had saved and work on her new project, a surprise for Teddi. And for herself. As much as anything she wanted Teddi to use it on her, and hoped she would after she learned firsthand how it worked. If it worked.