Steve felt a confusing rush of emotions as Ginger brought the gleaming satin dress towards his terribly vulnerable crotch. His first infatuation with women's clothes, when he was just a boy entering puberty, had been a satin dress he had seen occasionally worn by a girl his age. Back then he had never had the opportunity to be intimate with her or any other female. Into that vacuum had rushed a plethora of fantasies, both about tickling girls wearing silky dresses and having them be tickled constantly by the dress itself. As he grew older he had begun to feel terribly guilty about these fantasies. His strange desire proved to be untamable. Like the Hydra, whenever he tried to banish his interest in one type of feminine attire it surfaced again focused on another.
It wasn't until he was in college that he began to get a handle on it. He had checked out every kind of fabric he had ever lusted after, including all the satin clothes he could find, which at that time wasn't much. What he discovered was that there was a tremendous variety it what was labeled satin. In one store he might find a pair of satin pants that were very stiff and hard, while in another there would be a pair that were soft and billowy. The few dresses he found were too stiff to be called sensuous. Above all else, it seemed to him that satin was never as smooth and luxurious on the inside as it was on the outside.
During those expeditions Steve also found many varieties of qiana, and what was labeled jersey. Most of them appealed to him about as much as a pair of gym socks, but he had found a few examples that stood out as wonderfully sensual. Fluid and supple. Cool and exciting to touch. Shiny and smooth.
He was always on the lookout for clues that suggested to him that women were aware of these sensuous qualities. There were two that stood out. One was the fact that when fabric store ads in the newspaper mentioned the jersey he liked best, the copy described it in subtle yet undeniably erotic terms, always making the point that it was sensual, or referring to how good it felt. Why, he reasoned, would a woman care how it felt, unless she wore it without underwear? The other clue was the fact that his favorite fabric was used almost exclusively for evening wear. Most women were not inclined to wear things to school or the office that exuded sex appeal, but party dresses were another matter. He reasoned that when the goal of an evening's outing was to hook a man, the perfect bait was a provocative dress that begged to be touched, and even teased the viewer by suggesting that the wearer was enjoying the feeling it produced.
After months of searching he had come to the conclusion that the best qiana provided as much of the pleasure he had dreamed about all those years as anything likely could. It wasn't as strong as he had yearned for, but even so the sight of a woman wearing it set him on fire, and the shortfall in tickling was easily made up by his fingers or by dragging it over her body.
Carol had been the first woman he had ever discussed his infatuation with, and she had taught him a lot about satin he hadn't known. She explained that satin alone was too thin and delicate for most outerwear, so for dresses and pants the yarn was usually woven in a complex pattern that produced a crepe surface on the backside to give it stiffness and strength. Even when it wasn't, both sides couldn't be equally smooth because of the way it was woven. The characteristics of the yarn made a big difference in the end result, but it was the way the yarn crossed over several strands at a time that gave it its smooth, shiny appearance. That also made it fragile, easy to snag and quick to lose its shape. Then she had surprised him by saying that if what he wanted was for a woman to be tickled by her clothes, satin would probably come closer to providing that experience than qiana, provided it was the right type.
Carol had launched into a story about a dress her mother had owned, a favorite for playing dress-up as a girl. It was white, unlined satin, cut on the bias so that it flowed over her body just like the knits currently in fashion. She still remembered how wonderful it felt against her body, and used to imagine that she was a princess at a ball, dancing till dawn with all the handsome men, wrapped in her secret cocoon of pleasure.
In college she had found a satin blouse at a thrift shop that reminded her of that dress. The first time she wore it without a bra the sensation of her breasts jiggling around inside it as she walked across campus almost gave her an orgasm. She also told him about her time in Bangkok, where she had discovered the joy of having sex on satin sheets.
That dress, and her other experiences with satin, had been the reason why Carol had opened her store. The only reason she didn't carry many satin dresses was that they were not in style. She speculated that in time it would come back, especially if a synthetic form could be found that looked and felt as good as real silk, and that qiana would fade into oblivion.
When he heard her say that he was shaken to the bone. He was forever denying that his passion for nylon jersey was obsessive, but the thought of a world where pretty young women did not go out wearing qiana gowns left him dejected. Only a few weeks ago, when Carol had him hanging by his wrists in her bedroom wearing the long blue qiana skirt she had made for him and driving him insane rubbing his cock against it, she had taunted him, claiming that she couldn't wait for women to stop wearing qiana because then he would be hers alone. His cock had gone limp at her words.
The liquid satin gown that Ginger was about to use on him reminded him of Carol's story about her mother's dress, and a similar dress at last Friday's gig, one that he had used, if only in his mind, in a situation very much like this. Both examples were quite unlike the satin dresses he had seen prowling in the stores, and brought back all those memories of that young neighbor girl he had longed to tickle.
Ginger started to tease him with the satin dress, using it just as Teddi had. What he noticed at once was that it slid over his cock with less friction. It also felt colder, which made it tickle more. The slipperiness of it made the stimulation much less intense, and he found that he could relax and really get into how good it felt.
Ginger seemed to pick up on that, perhaps because he wasn't moaning as loud, and she kept it sliding over his cock with the on-off technique Teddi had used.
"Steve, how is this? Do you like it?"
"Uh. Oh yeah, Ginger, just like that. It's so good! Just, ah, just keep it like that!"
Ginger obliged, dragging it up and down between his legs, keeping it flowing across the tip of his dick. It felt really good on his ass and balls. She went on like that for several minutes, and he felt like he was caught in some kind of warp zone, the feeling incredibly good but not driving him towards orgasm.
Then she surprised him by changing her technique. She lifted his butt up and tucked the hem under him on the side opposite her, then laid the dress across his body. Holding the top and pulling it sideways, she started to run his dick back and forth and around in circles.
"Ahh! Oh! Ohhh! Yaaaaa!"
A burst of pleasure exploded from his dick. Ginger's new arrangement allowed the fabric to press much harder on the tip of his cock than when it was just dragged up and down, especially because of the way the leather sheath held his disk so straight. Still, the lack of friction took the edge off of the feeling. The pleasure was intense, but in a big, fat, round kind of way. His journey to orgasm was still on hold, but he was wracked with pleasure none the less. He wasn't sure how long he could stand it, but he also knew that there wasn't much he could do about it.
All this time he had noticed Carol watching him with a distant look on her face, her body squirming almost imperceptibly, like she was moving to the faint sounds of dance music. He guessed that the sight of him being tortured this way was turning her on, and that the tight rubber underwear she still wore was doing its thing. He had seen her like this dozens of times, but it still fascinated him.
Before they had met he had never heard of women wearing such things. Ben-wa balls, to be sure, even though they were rumored to be less fulfilling than their reputation made them out to be. But the thought of a woman in tight rubber undies covered inside with soft, sharp points and bumps drove him crazy. It was a lot like his wanting women to enjoy their sensuous evening gowns, but instead of the delicate, ticklish pleasure a nylon jersey gown produced, it was flagrantly sexual. Rubber undies like Carol's produced lots of stimulation, so much that a woman could easily achieve an orgasm without touching herself. Ironically, it was also easier to hide. He often wondered how many women used underwear like that to liven up a boring office job.
Straining against his bonds, tormented by the pleasure of Ginger rubbing his dick against the cold satin, he watched Carol and thought of a lovely young receptionist working at a big law firm downtown, calmly typing and answering the phones as her body endured the feeling of tight rubber underwear like Carol's. Her nipples were being squeezed hard by the little recesses molded into the tip of each bra cup and lined with little teeth that set them on fire. The inside of each cup was covered with quarter inch long, cone shaped fingers that came to a sharp point, spaced far enough apart so that each point could press hard into her tender breasts. The same cones were molded into the crotch of the panties, but closer together, arranged in a series of concentric circles where the panty covered her clit, and in a series of lines below that which dug into the lips of her cunt. Rising out of this forest was a thin, flexible dildo, which swelled at the tip into a ball covered with soft bristles.
His fantasy unfolded, his mind filling in all kinds of minute details. As it did his awareness of the room around him faded, with only the overwhelming pleasure coming from his cock remaining.
It was Friday, and like all of the women in Honolulu she was wearing a mu'u mu'u. This was her regular Friday routine. She came to work with her special treat tucked away in her handbag, but soon after arriving she went into the ladies room and put it on. She wore it all morning, even when she went out on errands. She loved to walk over to the post office to pick up the mail, as the movement of walking made the feelings more intense while at the same time being out in public took away her urge to come.
By lunch time it was positively unbearable. Her nipples were screaming to be set free, and the little dildo inside her had rubbed her almost raw. Then she would sit outside, calmly eating her lunch and looking at all of the good looking young men walking by. She tried to sit by herself, and if she could she would let herself go right there, rocking slightly back and forth, her knees crossed or pushed together, pressing her clit against the pointed spikes and getting the dildo to move slightly inside her. When her orgasm started it just went on and on, but she could control herself enough so that all she had to do was fake a sneeze or two to cover her spasms. If it was too crowded she would ride the elevator up to the parking garage and come looking out over the wall onto the mall below.
Steve was so wrapped up in his fantasy that he didn't notice Lynn talking quietly to Carol. When he realized that Carol wasn't next to him he looked around and was surprised to see Lynn stringing her up over where the spankings had taken place. The yellow dress was gone, but she still had on her bra and panties. And Lynn had changed back into her blue pants outfit.
Just then Nancy took Ginger's place, using the black pleated skirt. Just as Lynn landed the first blow of the paddle the pleated chiffon touched his dick, and he and Carol screamed at the same instant.
The feeling of the new skirt was exactly the opposite of what he had been enjoying for the last ten or fifteen minutes. Instead of the smooth, slippery feeling of the satin flowing over his cock he now felt the hard edges of the tiny pleats scraping over the super sensitive tip. Nancy was drawing it up and down very slowly, just dangling it against his cock. The satin had been heavy enough to apply plenty of pressure, just like good qiana, but this was extremely light. Even so the fabric scratched against him in a way that felt like she was using a hair brush.
Lynn was really going to town on Carol, and the sounds of his lover screaming and the smacking of the paddle on her ass really turned him on. He knew how much she enjoyed such treatment, and the sight of her getting what she liked so much at the hands of such a beautiful girl, dressed no less in the slinky blue pants that he had used on Nancy, was positively overwhelming.
The feelings coming from his dick were incredibly intense. Sharp, pointed, painful, yet with just enough pleasure to make him want it to continue. Like Carol, he was howling in agony, but loving every minute of it.
As he floated there, oblivious of time, with all of his attention focused on the tip of his dick, he just barely noticed Ginger going over and watching Lynn. After a moment he saw that the two of them were talking. Then Ginger went over to where they had stacked the dinner things when they had cleared the table and picked up one of the candles that had decorated the table. She lit it and went back to Lynn, who in the meantime had removed Carol's bra.
He could see that Carol's breasts were covered with small red dots, as if she had chicken pox. He shuddered at the thought of how it must feel to wear a bra like that, and found himself connecting the feeling with his fantasy. He had no idea why Ginger had the candle. She and Lynn exchanged a few more words, grinning all the while in a most wicked way. Then to his surprise, Ginger held out the candle over Carol's breasts and shook it. Drops of wax splattered down over Carol's naked breasts, bright red splotches spreading over pure white skin. Carol shrieked, which made Nancy and Teddi turn to see what was happening. Teddi gasped, and Nancy stopped teasing his cock.
"Don't worry," Ginger called out, "it won't hurt her. I mean, it hurts a lot now, but it's nothing serious. Kind of like being spanked."
She paused briefly, then tipped the candle again. More splotches appeared, one right on Carol's left nipple. Steve recognized the look on Carol's face, the same look she had when he spanked her. She called it 'sweet agony,' when pain and pleasure came together as one. Nancy was again rubbing his dick with the wispy pleated skirt, and he realized that they were experiencing almost the same thing. For him it was pleasure so intense as to be painful, and for her, pain that brought pleasure. He loved what he was feeling, and was sure that his lover was too.
Ginger stepped back, and Lynn started in spanking again. Following their lead, Teddi took Nancy's place, using the blue qiana skirt. The change brought welcome relief, taking the painful edge off of the feeling, allowing him to once again experience pure pleasure. He could feel the tension rising in him, something that neither the satin or pleated skirt did. His dick throbbed inside the tight constraint of the leather sheath, and he knew that the tip was bulging, big and purple, the opening at the tip stretched wide. Up and down, up and down, slow, then fast, the qiana feeling so good as it tickled his ass. Normally he would have come by now, but every time he felt the urge rise up it quickly disappeared, the result of that devilish strap bound around his scrotum.
Lynn stopped, and Ginger used the candle again. As if on cue, Nancy returned with the pleated skirt, setting his dick on fire as the edges of the pleats scraped over it. The sight of the wax dripping on Carol's breasts and the torment of the pleats on his cock sent him reeling. Lynn reached down and grasped the rear of Carol's thong, tugging up hard on it, just as he had done earlier. That must have taken Carol over the edge, because her body started to shake much more violently.
Teddi went back to the qiana skirt, even though Ginger was still dripping hot wax on Carol's tits. Carol was going wild, screaming and shuddering, as Lynn tugged on her rubber panties. Steve tried to guess what it felt like to have all those sharp points digging into her crotch, but it certainly seemed to be working.
He now wanted more than anything to come, to release all of the pent-up desire that had been building up in him all evening. At long last Teddi motioned for Nancy to release the strap around his scrotum. As soon as it was off she went after him with renewed gusto, never stopping the dance of qiana sliding over his dick.
He let his gaze sweep around the room, drinking in the sight of the lovely women there all dressed in the fabric he was so infatuated by, recalling what each had undergone that evening. He paused to watch Carol, still shuddering as Ginger continued to splash hot wax all over her breasts. He recalled his fantasy, the young lady downtown standing all alone in the parking structure, looking down at the people below as orgasm after orgasm swept through her, the way it was with Carol.
It only took a few more minutes. Near the end he hung poised at the brink, teetering precariously on the edge of orgasm. He saw Carol pass out, hanging limply from her wrists, and just then his cock started to pump huge wads of cum. Teddi clutched the jersey in her hand and brushed it fast and hard over his dick, which made him scream. A cruel grin spread over Teddi's face as she continued to rub his burning cock over the nylon. He pulled so hard against the ropes that he was sure they or the table would break. He desperately wanted her to stop, but she paid no attention to his cries for mercy. The distinction between pain and pleasure was gone as his brain exploded with sensations he usually only experienced at the peak of orgasm, only now it went on and on and on. Way past the point where he was certain he could go no farther he came again, his body heaving against the ropes as if he were connected to high voltage wires. It was nothing less than sweet agony.