Tired after his unusually late night, Ben held his breath as he knocked on Carol's door. All the way over on the bus he couldn't help thinking about how Carol might be dressed and what might ensue, his lust still unsatisfied despite his morning sex play. Dolls and towels, he had discovered, were no match for a warm female body.
The door swung open, and his heart sank. No shimmer, no slink. No provocative feminine adornments. All he saw was a pair of cutoff blue jeans and a simple tee shirt.
"Good morning, Ben! Come on in!"
"Hi. What's up for today?"
"Well, I'm having some guests for dinner, and I want the yard to look especially nice. I need you to cut the grass in front, weed the flower bed in front of the porch, and do an extra nice job of cleaning up. I've got to run down to the market and buy some things. Actually, I have to go to several places, so it'll take an hour or two. Closer to two I think."
"No problem. I'll make it look real good."
"Thanks, Ben. See you later."
He watched her drive off, then, sure she was gone, went inside to see what he could do to salvage the morning.
First he made a bee-line for the hamper. It was empty. Not just empty of sexy things to play with, but, for the first time since he had been doing this, completely empty.
He stood there in mild shock, wondering what to do. He thought about taking something from her closet, but was too afraid to play that way and get cum on it. He decided on a compromise, to just wear something for a little while, then masturbate without the aid of her clothes.
He went to her closet and rummaged around. The quantity and variety of sexy clothes she had in there always amazed him. Something white and pleated caught his eye, reminding him of the pretty girl he had seen on the bus Friday. When he took it out he was surprised to see that it was long, like a gown, but with big, loose pant legs instead of a skirt.
He striped naked and stepped into it. At once he felt that special, cool, sensuous feeling on his skin that he loved so much, and his dick swelled eagerly. The top was rather skimpy, backless and with just a simple sash running up over each breast that tied around the neck. He slipped this over his head, only to be surprised by the feel of the crotch seam digging up into his ass. He guessed that Carol's torso was a bit shorter than his. Then he thought of her wearing it the same way, the neck tied so that the crotch pulled up hard between her legs. He wondered how that would feel on her cunt, and whether the seam would pull up inside it. Would that feel good, or hurt? Either prospect made him horny.
He walked around the room, thinking about that girl on the bus and paying close attention to how the pleats felt against his naked skin. Her skirt had been lighter, but it looked like it was silky enough that it might feel as good. Carol's jumpsuit was made of almost the same fabric as her flared pants. Heavier and not as slinky as most of her dresses, but still very liquid and sensuous.
He decided to compare the feeling of the jumpsuit to one of the nicer gowns. He dug around until he found his favorite, the yellow gown that flowed like water, the one Carol had used on him the day before. He put it on, and, as he had expected, the feeling was entirely different but just as sexy. It was much lighter, and softer. The heaviness of the other fabric made the feeling stronger, whereas this was very delicate.
He thought about women he had seen the night before dressed this way. The thought of them strolling through Waikiki feeling anything like what he felt now made him dizzy. He knew that most women wore lots of underwear, which would keep them from enjoying the unique feeling of the gown flowing over their body, but he thought he had seen some who weren't. And even those who did might willingly remove it later, when they were alone with their man.
He stood still, running his fingertips lightly along his dick, thinking about the fantasy Carol had told him the day before and the willowy girl on the bus. He would give anything to go out with her and have the chance to play with her like that. He tried to imagine how it would feel to walk up to her door to pick her up, and when she opened it she would be standing there in a dress just like the one he had on. It would be a struggle to act casual, to complement the way she looked without revealing his true feelings of unbounded lust. Then to spend the evening with her dressed like that. Heaven. Absolute heaven, except that it would be like torture being so close to her and not being able to fondle her, to tickle her breasts, to tie her up and spank her.
He was suddenly overcome by the urge to spank her, and wondered what it would feel like. Her took a wire coat hanger from the closet, knelt on the floor with his chest on the bed, and spanked himself, still wearing the yellow gown. His first blows were soft, but he soon warmed up to it and hit himself as hard as he could given the awkward position. Each new blow brought a stinging pain that shot clear through him. Together they built a warm, burning sensation that slowly grew and spread over his ass. He noticed that he could see himself in the mirrored closet doors. The sheen of the nylon made his ass look terrific, the ass that would be hers. Each blow made the nylon shimmer all down the back of his thighs, and he squirmed the way he hoped she would, noting with satisfaction how the fabric caught the light, glistening over his ass with each little movement.
He kept it up, searching for how far he could go without it hurting too much. He could feel his erect cock rubbing lightly against the front of the dress, much too softly to do much except tease him. When he squirmed it slid back and forth across the fabric, and while this felt wonderful he was careful not to do it too much least some cum drip out and spoil the gown.
It was his concern for Carol's dress that finally made him stop. The possibility of getting it dirty or snagging it with the hanger worried him so much that it overshadowed the pleasure. He slipped off the dress, only to feel at a loss as to what to do next. Then he remembered her blue bell bottom pants, and went looking for them. They were there, hung neatly on a hanger by the waistband with clamps. He studied how they were attached, then removed the hanger and pulled them on.
They felt as delicious as they had before, cool and silky all over his legs. The sight of himself in the mirror aroused him tremendously as he imagined that girl on the bus wearing them. He reached down and pulled his dick up so that it rested against his abdomen, pulling the pants up hard so that the crotch seam pulled up deeply between his balls, trying to make it look like it was pulled up inside the girl's cunt. He started tickling himself through the pants and as he watched his hand there he imagined that he was stroking the girl there, right on her cunt. He was surprised at how much it tickled. He spread his legs and tried to imagine the girl strung up the way he had been with Carol.
His delicate touch brought cries of anguish from her, the shiny blue nylon tight against her cunt making it tickle unbearably. She howled with laughter, tossing her head, struggling against her bonds, desperate to have the torment stop. Gradually her cries changed. Instead of wanting him to stop she begged him to press harder, to let her come. He held out, withholding the release she so desperately sought, forcing her to endure the tickling torture. On and on he went, knowing that she was slowly approaching the explosion she wanted so much. Finally she started to shudder, her orgasm drawn out with agonizing slowness while he continued to tickle her most sensitive spot. Her shudders increased in intensity, until finally she was engulfed in the bliss of sweet release. At the peak he gave in, pressing hard with his thumb and middle finger, applying firm pressure to the area around her clit. She screamed, shuddering violently, and passed out, her body hanging limply from the ropes that held her.
His own body was quivering with excitement at the raw sensuality of his fantasy. Knowing that his dick would all too soon start to drip with pre-orgasmic cum, but not wanting to stop altogether, he opted for a compromise. He pulled down the elastic waistband in front, dug out his erect cock, and let it hang out, waving about in the air. His mind was still on the girl on the bus and the thought of spanking her. He noticed the Boston ferns hanging from the eye bolts that Carol had used to string him up, and got an idea. He hung the white pleated jumpsuit over the neck of the wire hanger, then hooked it onto the knotted cord that held the fern's basket. The dress hung limply in front of him, the hem just inches from the floor. He went and got a pillow from the bed and a sash belt from the closet, and managed to get the pillow into position so that it more or less filled out the area where the hips and ass would be. The pillow rested on the crotch seam, and the sash belt kept it in place.
Fetching another hanger from the closet, he proceeded to whip the effigy on the ass. It was a poor substitute, but even so he was overcome with passion as each blow landed on the silky pleated fabric. Instead of the sharp crack produced by the hanger hitting his ass earlier, the dummy gave off a dull thud. He imagined the real sound, as well as the screams of his victim, and continued with abandon. Shortly he paused and rubbed his dick across the pleats, relishing the intense sensation the sharp edges produced. He worked this into a pattern of spanking, then rubbing, imagining that he was doing it all with the beautiful girl on the bus. He even imagined that, as much as she hated the spanking, she was more worried that he was going to squirt cum all over her pure white skirt, which she just had to wear to school that day. The thought of it as being pure, a symbol of her virginity, aroused him greatly, and he saw himself keeping it up until he gushed huge wads of cum all over her precious white skirt, the girl in tears at her loss.
All the while this was going on he felt the delicate pleasure of the nylon pants rubbing over his ass and legs. Each stroke of the hanger made the pants flutter wildly around his calves, and he enjoyed the effect very much.
His fantasy dissolved into another, even more bizarre. Two women, Carol and an elegant haole, were taking turns punishing a third woman. Carol, dressed in a leather corset and thigh boots, was beating their victim with a whip. The other was dressed in pants like he was and a matching top, and would torment their victim with a dildo and something that looked like a milk shake blender only with a soft brush at the tip that whipped her clit. Their victim, a buxom blond, was hanging by her wrists, with her knees drawn up by ropes that ran up to the ropes that she hung from. She wore a bra that looked like a torture device. Thick leather bands ran over and under her tits, squeezing them so that they bulged like water balloons. Stiff leather teeth lined the edges and dug into her tits, increasing her suffering. A wide leather belt was pulled tight around her waist, and from it a series of straps ran between her legs. The straps were similar to what Carol had worn when she played with him the day before, only these had an opening to expose her clit to the spinning brush.
Both Carol and her partner were not without a source of pleasure. Carol had a vibrator stuck up her cunt, with a little arm that fit over her clit. The other woman wore something like what Carol had worn. All three of them were quivering with pleasure and determined to go for as long as possible before giving in.
Finally, beside himself with passion, he began stroking his dick with his left hand while mercilessly beating the dummy with the hanger. In a few seconds some drops of cum leaked from the tip, and he spread these over the tip gratefully for lubrication. Now it felt very, very good. The girl hanging before him, the one Carol was beating, was shrieking in agony. His own body was alight with the constant touch of sensuous nylon, like the other woman would feel, and the tip of his cock was on fire as he stroked it with his fingers, just like all three women. He hovered there in complete bliss for several minutes, a bomb on a long fuse, until finally his release came. Great blobs of cum shot from his dick, but he was careful to aim it at the floor even as he imagined it going all over the front of the girl on the bus. Not just her skirt, but her soft, fuzzy sweater and even her face. He fell to his knees, then rolled onto his side as he quickly pulled down the pants, desperately trying to keep the cum from getting on them. Then he lay there, half dead, his mind wandering aimlessly almost as if he were asleep.
In a minute he remembered that Carol was due back soon, and knew that he would have to be as fast as the wind to get enough work done to cover his tracks. He put the pants back exactly as they had been. Then he took down the pleated jumpsuit, and as he did so a pang of guilt shot through him.
He held it close to him, thinking of the girl, full of remorse for wanting to hurt her so much. He remembered his talk with Carol, and wondered where, given the chance, would he draw the border between fantasy and reality.