MIRROR: Download from MEGA Taleena's 1st Adventure Taleena was fast asleep. She had been in class at college all day and worked in the supermarket until closing time at 11:00. It had been a busy Friday night and she was very tired by the time she got home. When she saw her bed, she took off her jeans, her t-shirt, her bra and her socks, leaving only her panty. She was asleep almost immediately. It had been a long day for the pretty five-foot-seven 21-year old. A long day, indeed. Although she wasnâ€™t one to toss and turn in bed all night, she normally did change position from time to time. Taleena liked to sleep on her side, turned half-way onto her stomach, facing to the right. After a few hours, she would turn into a similar position onto the other side, facing to the left. She rarely slept on her back, a position she didnâ€™t find at all comfortable. It was no surprise, then, that she tried to turn onto her right side as soon as she sensed that she was sleeping on her back. The funny thing was that she couldnâ€™t do it. She tried to turn but something was holding her. Sensing that something was not right, Taleenaâ€™s eyes flashed open. She immediately realized that she was no longer in her bed, or even her bedroom. She tried to move but even that was impossible. She looked up at her arms and saw that there were straps holding her wrists and upper arms. Then, she lifted her head and saw similar straps holding her legs widely apart, securing them at the ankles and the thighs. She was naked and helpless. As she looked about the room, she noticed various cabinets, tables, trolleys, control panels, computer terminals and lights. She could see herself and the device on which she was confined in the gleaming stainless steel doors of the cabinets along the wall to her right. It was a large table, specifically designed to helplessly secure a woman in the most compromising position, spreadeagled with her arms high above her head and her legs widely parted. She had no idea how she had come to this place, remembering only that she had dropped into her bed and gone to sleep almost immediately. She started to get scared, very scared. Some time after she had awakened, probably twenty minutes or so she thought, a man entered the room. She recognized him immediately. He was a regular customer at the supermarket. â€œWhat the hell is this?â€ she started, â€œHow did I get here?â€ â€œAll in due time,â€ he answered, as he picked up a large, stiff feather from one of the little wheeled tables along the wall and approached her. â€œLet me go, please,â€she pleaded, trying to move against the restraints holding her arms and legs. â€œYou know, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you,â€ he told her, â€œI was deeply affected by the very unique beauty that I saw in you, not only your physical beauty but the inner beauty that I saw in your eyes.â€ As he spoke, he started to stroke the big feather across her stomach and along her sides, working the entire front of her torso from below her breasts to the creases where it met her thighs and her sides from below her armpits to her hips, carefully avoiding her breasts, her armpits and her genitals. He was stroking her soft and flawless skin more to intimidate her than to tickle her, demonstrating to her subconscious mind that she was very, very vulnerable and he was in total control of her. â€œNo,â€ she pleaded, â€œplease donâ€™t! That tickles.â€ â€œI knew then that I wanted you for myself. But I also realized that a beautiful young college girl would not be likely to have a great deal of interest in a man of my age. College girls always want to go with the boys they associate with in their schools. And therefore I could only proceed with my desires by taking you, rather than asking you - I hope you understand.â€ Taleena squirmed and fidgeted on the x-shaped table holding her as the man drew the stiff feather across the soft skin of her stomach and sides, slowly and purposefully, in long, agonizing strokes, as he spoke. She tried everything she could think of to ease the sensations - she stiffened her body, bit into her lip, squeezed her eyes and clenched her fists. Nothing seemed to help. She felt her nipples start to swell and harden. That was the sign he was looking for, waiting for. Now he moved his attention to her breasts. â€œIn China, one of historyâ€™s most terrible tortures was the death of a thousand cuts,â€ he told her, â€œwhich would begin with one hundred cuts of a very sharp knife across each of a womanâ€™s breasts, each cut a little longer and a little deeper than the one before, building up a level of pain in which each cut would continue to contribute to the pain that she would feel, starting at the top of each breast and making fifty cuts in the top helf of a breast, then another fifty cuts starting at the bottom, slowly working toward the nipple but never touching it.â€ He began to draw the edge of the large, stiff feather across the top half of her right breast, mimicking the movements of the knife he was describing. The anguish and agony building in Taleenaâ€™s mind and body built with each successive stroke as she squirmed and mewled and pleaded. Slowly, ever so slowly, he drew the feather across the top of her right breast fifty times, then the top of the left breast, then the lower half of the right breast and finally the lower half of her left breast, coming close to her nipple but never touching it. â€œIt took many hours to complete the thousand cuts, using a razor-sharp knife, and the pain was indescribable, sometimes lasting the entire night before the woman would die from shock and loss of blood.â€ Taleenaâ€™s nipples became painfully engorged with blood, so big and hard she thought they were going to burst, and she became sexually aroused, she felt herself become very, very wet inside as she imagined each stroke of the knife with each stroke of the feather. Even so, the strokes continued driving her further and further into both agony and ecstasy. He then moved his attention back to her stomach and further onto her thighs. As he continued to speak, he stroked the feather across the top and over the outside of her thighs as well as her lower legs. â€œWhen they would finish with her breasts,â€ he continued, â€œthey would move down to her stomach like this, drawing the knife in long strokes, creating a criss-cross diamond pattern. They would create a similar pattern on her thighs and legs with each cut less than a quarter inch from the other.â€ He continued to trace each stroke of the knife he described with the sharp, stiff edge of the feather. Her sexual arousal continued to build and build. But he was careful not to touch any part of her that would take her all the way to an orgasm. He moved to her arms and ribs, stroking the soft inside of her upper arms and the curvature of her ribs, careful to avoid her armpits. â€œAfter the legs and thighs, their attention would then move to her arms,â€ he said, â€œwith the same diamond pattern a quarter of an inch apart on the soft inner portions of her upper arms. The knife would then also be drawn along the curve of each of her ribs, both on the rib itself and in the little space between them. Then the attention would move to her feet.â€ Taleena was so close, oh so close, to sexual orgasm. But the man was an expert. He really knew the female anatomy, they workings of the female body and its nervous system. She was so close, and yet she could not climax. She was in agony. If only she could touch her genitals, or if only he would touch her genitals. â€œPlease,â€ she pleaded, â€œdonâ€™t touch my feet. Havenâ€™t you done enough already?â€ The man brought a wheeled stool from the side of the room and seated himself at the foot end of the table. Taleena flexed her toes over and over, sensing his presence so close to her feet. Like the rest of her, Taleenaâ€™s feet were very pretty - size 8 1/2 and in perfect proportion - beautifully cleaned and manicured - no dead tissue or callouses of any kind - perfectly kissable. It was all he could do to restrain himself from kissing and licking her feet. And so he brought the feather up toward her left foot. â€œIn Hawaii and the other islands of the south seas,â€ he went on, â€œany of the young women from other islands who came to be captured were turned over to the women of a particular village. They would tie her down on the ground in the same position as you, bring out a collection of feathers kept especially for this occasion, and begin to tickle her feet.â€ As he was talking, he began to stroke the feather across the instep of her left foot, drawing it from one side to the other slowly and carefully, between the fold of skin on the soft instep as she flexed her toes as far as she could to prevent the sensation of the feather on her skin. She felt another feather on the top of her foot drawn across in the same way and brought her toes back up. This tightened the skin of her instep where the first feather was again drawn across, leading her to flex her toes again. â€œPlease sto-o-o-p,â€ she laughed, squirming and flopping her foot about as best she could â€œI canâ€™t stand to be tickled there.â€ After some ten or fifteen minutes of tickling her left foot in this way, with Taleena squirming, laughing and pleading, he put the feather that he had used on the top of her foot down, and turned to her right foot. This time he simply took hold of her foot with his hand, between his thumb and fingers, preventing her from flexing her toes. Then he began to draw the feather across the instep of her right foot, over and over, as she howled with laughter, laughing so hard she couldnâ€™t even plead for him to stop. Every few minutes, he would draw the feather across the groove below her toes and in between each of her toes, driving her to new heights of laughter. Some forty minutes passed while he worked on her right foot with his feather.