Chapter 3
"No one beyond this point without Patient Uniform."
That was the first sign that greeted them on the way to room number 1.
A nurse at a nearby station gave them each a white folded uniform and directed them to the men and women's dressing rooms. When Stella had changed, she looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised at the simplicity and comfort of the two-piece set. She handed her clothes over to the nurse who put them in a bag and attached a tag with a number and her name and threw it down a large pipe that read: "Laundry." Fred's clothes were treated in the same manner.
She turned around to her boss for an explanation.
"Well, they figure that while one is here the only clothing needed is the uniform which has been designed for comfort and usability," Fred answered straight.
"And while we are on the subject - one thing to remember around here is - everybody calls everybody else by their first names. Only the doctors, with access to the dosiers will know your last name," he said smiling.
"Any reason behind that?"
"Sure. The doctors figure that once you put . on that white uniform you are in equal terms with the man or woman next to you. And it would defeat the purpose of the treatment if all of a sudden you found out that the guy eating across the table happened to be Chairman of the Board. Therefore, only first name introductions are allowed."
"Hmmmmm. I see."
"So, my name is Fred from now on. O.K."
"O.K.," she answered, but knowing perfectly well that in her mind he still was Mr. Rodgers, her boss.
They followed an arrow that pointed to room number 1 and walked along a narrow corridor until they reached the designated room. On the door there was a sign that said: Massage - Internal, External Authorized Personnel Only. They knocked and a deep voice answered:
"Come in and wait a minute please."
"Room- number 1 turned out to be a small place with nothing in it except a high, narrow table. Stella wondered what sort of massages were given here. The place smelled of liniment oil and cologne. It made her a little nervous to be standing there waiting for the masseur with her boss by her side because she was not much good at making small conversation. By the way he acted, though, he seemed to be quite familiar with the place and the procedure. That was at least a comfort. She didn't want to commit any more blunders, but without his help she didn't think it could be possible - she felt, really, so out of place.
The only other door in the room opened, and a tall, heavy-set man suddenly walked in. His arms were strong with big heavy veins running down their entire length. His hands were extraordinarily big, actually more wide than large, but the impression was just the same, of enormous hands. The fingers were correspondingly thick and strong.
"Good morning," the masseur said.
"Good morning," Stella and Fred answered almost simultaneously.
"May I see your papers, please."
Stella handed her folder over and watched how his eyes moved quickly over the information in the dossier. It took him only a few seconds to read it. Then without lifting his eyes from the folder he said very calmly, "Please undress."
Stella looked around for a partition or somewhere she could take her uniform off, but there was nothing other than the four plain walls and, off to one side, the man's little office. She noticed the masseur staring at her with an air of exasperation.
"Right here?" she asked timidly.
"Yes, my dear. Don't feel inhibited - that's the reason you are here - to get rid of that fear and shame you feel towards that body of yours," the masseur answered trying, very obviously, not to smile at her timidity.
The attractive young secretary gulped and unzippered the front of her uniform. But her heart was pounding so hard that when she made the first move to slip it off she thought she might suffer a heart attack. To her surprise no such thing occurred, and the little jump suit fell from her shoulders to the floor. She couldn't help but notice how the two men looked over her nakedness.
"Now, I don't see why you are so ashamed of yourself. You have a beautiful shape. It's time you start learning to be proud and show it off. Don't you agree?" the man said looking at Fred.
"Yes, of course," Fred answered without taking his eyes from her ripely flaring contours.
It was a pity that those damn uniforms slipped off so easily, Fred thought. They took away all the exhilaration of watching a chick undress slowly, slipping her garments one by one. He would have liked to see her with her proudly upthrust breasts out in the open like she had just now, but with her ruby-like nipples distended at the tips, very erect. And then the breath taking contours of her body, naked, down to . .. the blonde silken base of her smooth white belly.. . topped by nylon stockings, garterbelt and high heels ... to touch him off. He liked women in that fashion. It was a hang-up from the time he was 15. But on second reflection, he knew he'd like to look at her any old way, as stimulation before letting her belly have its fill of his long hard cock.
"Please lay on the table flat on your stomach," the masseur asked her.
Stella felt petrified, glued to the floor. She didn't think she would be able to move anywhere the way she was ... so naked. But she walked over and sat on the table stretching herself flat on her stomach. She turned her face away from her boss. She was still so humiliated ... all this seemed so out of. . . normal... it didn't seem right! But maybe it was true what the man said - that she was ashamed and afraid of her body - that she had a terrible sexual hang-up. God! She didn't know what to think, everything was so strange. Here she was, absolutely naked before two strange men .. . she didn't know what to do! They all sounded so medical, so convincing, when they spoke.
"Now let me explain that a massage is a two-way thing. That is, you have to cooperate and relax your muscles, otherwise you will not enjoy it, and it might even be painful. The whole point of is to let you begin to enjoy your body and recognize its limits - as well as the ecstacies it can bring you. Do you understand?" The man said bending down to look into her face.
"Ye . .. es," Stella answered in a whisper. She was drained of all energy. What could he mean? ""Ecstasies?" God, it sounded so intellectual... so sexual!
Man, what an ass, what an absolutely fantastic ass! Fred thought. This was the only part of her body he had not yet scrutinized in the real flesh. Her two ass-cheeks were warm sculptured flesh, unblemished, and almost perfectly round. But what was tremendous was the deep gully that separated them; it had a golden glow to it! She must have light hair covering her anal crevice, and it probably ran all the way across to her pussy. He was positive it would be silky-soft, and his already eagerly pulsing penis lunged as he thought of how he would like to worm his long thick hardness into her fleshy crevice. His cock head would tingle at the touch of the silky hairs, until it was itching and needed to be scratched. And what a better prick-scratcher was there than that tight little hole up between her buttocks. He would ram his penis in and feel the warm folds of the tightly contracting walls take away the itch and squeeze him, until his cock would almost come out of its roots. That's how he liked a woman's ass and this gorgeous bitch seemed built to perfection just for that.
The masseur had started kneading at the base of her neck, and Stella felt as if the fingers were releasing the mental pressure right out of her brain. They worked slowly, down to the base of her head and then moved up again. It went on until she could not remember her fear or shame, and relished only in the languid heaviness of her body. She even felt like going to sleep!
"Now, like I said, this is a two-way street, and
I want you at all times to tell me how you feel and what you are feeling," the man with the kneading fingers said softly.
"HHHmmmm," Stella hummed in agreement.
And she felt the strong hands moved down to her shoulders and massage them forcefully until her joints cracked, but it never hurt. All she felt was a delicious current running from her neck to the bottom of her spine. The fingers moved down some more and began stroking her back. They pressed harshly at first and then softly, moving always in a constant circle. It was heavenly, she thought, never had such expert hands caressed her body so. Suddenly the same fingers moved under her armpits and dipped low, pressing against the fleshy sides of her breasts. She jerked involuntarily at the touch on her sensitive nakedness there.
"Relax. Tell me does it hurt?" the man asked.
"No."
"Well why did you jump. Do you feel embarrassed when I touch your breasts?"
"No, not really..." Stella answered, thoroughly confused.
"Is it nice now?"
"I... I guess," she said as the fingers began kneading the side walls of her lush young mounds very softly, almost like a lover... LOVER, LOVER and the word brought a sudden pang to her heart. She remembered George! My God, what would he say if he saw her like this stretched out completely nude with a man above her asking if she might be liking his touch on her breasts. He had warned her... that there might be something fishy about the whole deal. She felt a shudder run all over her. But the truth was that her boss had behaved like a gentleman ... it was all these doctors. But they were all professional people and acted just as she were another case. Was there something fishy? She didn't know; everything was so strange!
The fingers kept caressing the sides of her ripely tingling breast and the pleasurable sensation slowly blurred the doubts from her mind. It was so nice. .. so very nice, she thought.
"Are you feeling a little more relaxed now?"
"Yes, I am," she said.
The fingers deftly left her breasts and moved to her lower back. She felt how they lodged themselves in the narrow instep of her waist and pressed while they moved sideways away from each other. They would then retrace their steps until the two hands met at the base of her spine. The big hands kept moving, making her tingle to the roots of her hair. Now they stretched down and began creeping over the soft roundness of her naked buttocks. This time she controlled her muscles and did not even flinch once. She felt how each hand grabbed a cheek as if the masseur were kneading dough. The fingers dug into her flesh until they almost hurt, except they always released the pressure at the right time, becoming very gentle then. The man was an expert, she thought. It was surprising how deftly his fingers moved, and she was delighting in the sensation until she heard her buttock cheeks slap together...
The man was lifting the cheeks of her ass and pushing them against one another until they slapped! She was startled . .. because it didn't hurt. Instead, a very different pleasure seemed to penetrate her body each time her quivering half-globes fell together. Cool air would rush into the crevice touching the very mouth of her puckered anus as the cheeks were lifted. Then, when the two round mounds clashed against one another, the tingling sensation put on heat where the cold air had reached. She felt a little indecent as the feeling of pleasure intensified... it was doing something to her ... down ... there.
A very strange thing was happening to her. All she understood was that abruptly her anus was contracting and relaxing at the rhythm of the man's manipulations. But God! If it were only that! Something else seemed to be piercing and exciting her all the way down to her wetly throbbing vaginal furrow. It was as if the tingling sensation rippled from her buttocks to her clitoris with the same electricity, with the same intensity.
"Do you feel something different?" the man asked.
"Ye . .. ees," Stella answered nervously.
"Like what?"
"A sort of tingling."
"Where?"
"Well, you know .. . down ... down there, where you're massaging."
"You mean in your ass?"
She didn't answer. She blushed. Why did the bastard have to use that word? It made her feel uneasy.
"There is nothing wrong with the word. Remember that words are only dirty if we, ourselves, think dirty. Do you think what you are feeling in your asshole now is dirty?"
"I. . . I. . . suppose it isn't."
"You suppose? Is it disgusting or is it pleasurable? In one word: Do you like what I'm doing to you," he said increasing the tempo of his massage and making Stella shiver with uncontrollable delight.
"Yes, , yes I like it," she said still unable to control the blushing reaction to the obscene words. But the problem was that despite the blushing, she did like it. It was an incredible feeling - even more intense now that his hands were moving faster - and her anus was responding wildly to the massage.
Suddenly the hands stopped abruptly. She heard a cap being unscrewed and screwed back on, then the hands returned and resumed the massage, but faster . . . much faster. Now the air wasn't coming in as fast or as cool and her dark little hole was getting hot. She could feel it starting to burn .. . and tingle . .. and burn.
"Are you hot, do you feel a burning sensation?"
"I do, I do!" Stella said ardently.
And then her back arched and her eyes bulged from the sudden piercing of her anus.
"OOoooooooooo!" she cried aloud. The masseur had forced his thick, outstretched middle finger, covered with vaseline, into her tightly puckering anus. She felt the walls of her stretched anal passage engulf and contract over the invading digit as if trying to swallow it and dissolve it into nothingness.
"Oooooooo! It hurts, it hurts! What are you doinnnggg to meeee!" Stella cried under the pain and horror, as the finger embedded itself deeper and deeper into her fearfully cringing anus.
"Don't be afraid. The pain will go away soon. You just need a little stretching," the man said softly while his finger kept pumping and delving into the depths of the tightly resilient passage.
What is going on in this depraved place, Stella thought. She had never heard of "internal massages," much less of masseurs pushing their fingers up their client's anuses, to stretch them. This surely was no part of the company procedure, and the man was just taking advantage of her ignorance to ravish her helpless body! She jerked her buttocks sideways in an effort to dislodge the finger, but nothing happened. She jerked it more violently this time ... but...
"Aaaaaaoooggghhgg," she moaned as a heavy pressure was suddenly applied to the base of her neck. It was not painful; she just felt dizzy ... losing consciousness, as if the blood supply to her brain were being limited. Her arms went limp and seemed to weigh a ton. There was something going on inside her, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it now. All she felt was the thick finger now embedded up to the knuckle. Her passage felt hot and slippery as the finger began to move inside her in a slow rotating motion, pushing the walls along as it went. She couldn't think quite clearly why this was wrong... or was it? Only the finger thrusting in and out of her gradually relaxing rectum was real in her mind now; that, and a warm tingling sensation beginning to filter through her naked body. Everything else was slightly blotted out.
She felt the finger stroking hypnotically, not giving her time to contract her buttocks and catch it. It seemed as if the muscles in her tight little hole were responding to another command, and instead of rejecting they were accepting the finger. The intense dry heat she had felt a few minutes before was gone now, and her anal passage started secreting its own lubricant to join the vaseline. The feeling of pleasure seemed to increase and pound faster, sending spiraling waves of wanton delight up to her brain and back down again to her moistly quivering pussy.
Suddenly the finger stopped its rotating motion and began pumping in and out, retreating until she thought it was almost out of her puckered little ass-mouth and plunging back in again to the hilt of the knuckle. The feeling running rampant through her body now was different, very different... it seemed to swell, to rise and then come down again. When the finger rose the very edges of her anus and cunt quivered with an ungovernable excitement, but then when it came back into her tight little rectum again, she felt a masochistic pleasure right down to the pit of her stomach.
Fred had his eyes glued to the beautiful blonde's nakedly spread out buttocks being skewered by the thick finger pumping in and out of his secretary's rectum. Her reaction was even more exciting than the actual depravity the man was committing on her. When she had first begun to wriggle her peachlike buttocks to get rid of the fucking finger, his cock had jerked so hard he thought it had bored through the pants. She looked so defenseless, that even her little fight had made her look more under control - more dominated than ever. And when the man had pressed his other hand at the base of her neck, her transformation had been total. His penis, unable to bear the torture any longer, demanded to be stroked, and so he had jerked his rigid pole of hot flesh out into the open and was now massaging it with the same tempo as the man's finger pumping in and out of Stella's puckered little anus. The lust-swollen head of his cock was frothing with little bubbles of impatient foam. He was giving himself a two-finger head job - just stroking the thick foreskin over the head with his thumb and forefinger - to release the pressure building up in his member. But he didn't want to grab his shaft by the base, because he well knew that watching the naked young girl being manipulated like she was and stroking his penis too hard would make him spill out in two seconds flat. And that, he didn't want! There were better things in store for him, and he needed all his energies.
The pressure at the base of Stella's neck slowly lifted, and as the blood started flowing freely into her brain she suddenly felt the full impact of the delicious sensations that were coursing through her body. Her anal passage no longer felt tight and constricted; now it was open as if it had flowered and ripened to give way to the man's will. The impact was so strong she couldn't control her legs from jerking slightly apart from the pressure and the pleasure. Just as her anus had relented and become responsive, against her will, her sensually awakening cunt now felt hot and vaguely hungry. She felt ashamed of this double desire and tried to control it, but it was in vain. Her mind had absolutely no control over her heatedly aroused young body. It was as if the only thought in her being was concentrated up there between her trembling legs. She felt humiliated and the blood rose to her face until she was blushing deeply.
"There is nothing to be ashamed of," the masseur said, noticing the girl's flushed face. "What you are experiencing now is the exact response I was trying to elicit," he added, and to Stella's surprise, he jerked out the finger with a single motion.
She felt suddenly empty and the walls of her stretched anal cavern seemed to be collapsing under the sucking pressure of the finger as it withdrew. Something felt unfinished ... the hot hungry longing in her loins continued ... and her ravished anal passage was left puckering in its want. Yes, God! WANT. She had wanted to be consumed by the fire that was burning up inside that little hole. She was ashamed to admit the reality to herself... it was defiling . . . but God! How she would dearly love to have George with her now ... in bed ... and fucking!
"No, it's not depraved to feel or react the way you do," the company masseur said as if reading her thoughts. "That's exactly what we want you to realize here. Your body is free of guilt and reacts according to what it feels. It is only your mind that makes it dirty or depraved," he said, while his hands continued its massage down her thighs and legs.
"But... but... I don't understand..." Stella finally managed to utter, almost choking on her own words.
"Well, let me put it this way: You have been taught certain things that make you feel ashamed if a man does this to you. But your body, in its wisdom, knows none of these inhibitions when it is finally put to the test. And what we are trying to do is let you, or make you, understand that mind and body are one. And if one is free so must be the other. So learn to enjoy your new senses and your body," he said emphatically. And with that he slapped her behind and said:
"Turn over, please."
Stella propped herself on her elbows and turned her nakedly tingling body halfway, but suddenly she stopped all movement, shocked by the sight of her boss with his wildly throbbing penis jutting from his white uniform and still foaming at the head. What the hell had this witch-doctor been talking to her about? What big words and fancy thoughts had he used? It was all a lie, her brain screamed at her, as her eyes stared in disbelief and shame at the obscene picture before her very eyes. Her young boss's lewd glare seemed transfixed on her nakedly defenseless body, and his face bore the redness of a lust-incited brain. But her own eyes seemed to glue themselves on his long thick cock, so hard and. erect that it seemed to want to pierce her right from the distance. What an obscene picture she must have made with the masseur fucking his finger in and out of her ass! The view of her own defilement filled her mind and welled her eyes with tears, but still she could not take her glance away from Fred Rodger's thick menacing penis. The head was foaming and throbbing like a pulsing heart. She could easily make out the relentless pulsating of the blood-filled tip, unsheathed from its protective skin. Stella shuddered with shame, feeling a weird combination of fear, disgust... and lingering excitement!
"Please. This is something else we want you to understand. Mr. Rodgers here still has his own psychological hang-ups, and only if we clear them now will the two of you be able to work in the future without tensions," the man said as he caught Stella's bewildered eyes.
She turned her attention to the masseur, her questioning eyes defying any answer. He looked at her straight in the eyes, and let his big paws fall on her hips and shoulder, and without uttering a word, he made her body turn over so that she faced them both.
Stella jumped and sat up straight. "I'm getting out of here," she said. "I don't trust any of you."
"Relax," the masseur said, and pushed her forcibly back on the table until her back slapped against it.
"Oh, Stella, I don't know how to explain this. I'm also so ashamed ... I... I ... " Fred mumbled, speaking for the first time. Easy boy, easy, he thought. Remember you're treading on a thin line.. . lose her now and that's it. But still he did not push his flagrant cock back in his pants. He was still holding it like a banner in his hand.
Stella was taken off guard by the familiar voice of her employer and turned her face round to look at him. His eyes were downcast as if unable to meet her own... but his lust-thickened penis was still out, menacing her from the distance.
"There is nothing to be ashamed of. Both of you have reacted according to our medical diagnosis. Only now you are beginning to become aware of each other as human beings - by recognizing the differences in each other and yes, getting sexually excited by each other. There is nothing wrong or shameful. This is part of Step I of our plan," the company masseur added with assurance and conviction.
The bewildered young secretary didn't know what to do, if to jump up and run or remain to see what the masseur had in mind. But before she could make up her mind the golden hands that had already turned her body into a raving mass of desire, fell on her temples and began rubbing very softly. She heard the man's voice speaking very gently, giving more explanations and reasons why it was healthy that she had grown hot and wet in her "asshole" as he "fucked" his finger into it. And why it was not only natural, but healthy and part of their medical plan that her boss had "masturbated" at the sight of her sensually alluring body. She still couldn't help but blush when she heard the man's obscene words, but his reasoning seemed so clear and in line with all the articles she had read recently in the popular press and mass circulation magazines. She had heard all these theories expanded before, but never put to practice ... like this ... on her own body. She couldn't resist the wonderful relaxing sensation around her temples that was enveloping her mind as the masseur's fingers worked on. It was as if her entire body relaxed by some magic touch ... also his voice was so soothing and calming that she no longer fought within herself about what was right or wrong. She no longer was sure of anything!
Wwwwhheeeww! Fred sighed quietly to himself. That was a close one! A little more and they might have lost her. He winked at the masseur, and the man smiled lewdly back. Fred looked at Stella's relaxed face and was thankful for the man's golden touch. He had seen a bunch of girls turn from fighting amazons into whimpering little bitches once the masseur put his heavy hands on them. The man was worth his weight in gold. But Stella had been the closest to rebelling, although she had fought .physically the least.
His thoughts changed from the past to the present as he surveyed again his blonde secretary's voluptuous young body stretched out completely naked before him. Her breasts seemed now even more delectable after the exciting visual show he had witnessed. They looked delicious before, but now he couldn't keep his mouth from salivating from the mounting desire to suck and nibble them. They were like two beautiful white mountains crowned with little rubies. Her arms, which he noticed for the first time, were slender and firm with lovely elbows. Her ribs stood out from under her breasts, and although they were clearly visible, he was pleased to note they weren't skinny. Nothing bony about this chick, he thought mockingly. Her belly also, although flat, had a nice shape, and her hips were well padded. Nice . . . nice ... he hated bony girls.
Fred's cunt-hungry cock which had deflated a while ago when Stella had put up her fight, jerked to life again as his eyes locked themselves on the golden "vee" up between her legs. The light in the room was so clear he could see the true light honey color of her pussy hair as the beautiful young girl lay nakedly on her back in front of him. He felt his impatient penis get harder and more erect as his eyes roamed hungrily over that secret part of her body. The head of his lust-thickening shaft slowly filled with blood and expanded and elongated until it looked like a pink and blue ping-pong ball with a small slit right at its very top. The rest of his shaft also thickened until it was three times its original limp size. He looked at it proudly and smiled. It still was nothing compared to what it got to be when he was inside the soft warm cunt of a woman. And still nothing compared to what it looked like when it was ready to cum and its head bobbed and ached with longing to spill the hot precious liquid into some warm, gluttonous bitch's cavern. He could hardly wait to let the innocent young girl lying naked before him have it, in its full length and with its full cargo. Wait until she'd had a taste of his cock in action and then see if that boy friend of hers could ever be satisfying to her cunt again. Fred Rogers knew he was going to stretch her golden-haired pussy a little, and he doubted if her boy friend could ever fill her again the way she'd like. Even if the boy friend's cock was longer than his, he doubted it could be thicker than his own . . . and that's where it counted! He had discovered, when he was still selling from house to house, that part of his "success" hinged on the fact that he could make his "customers" feel every inch of his cock until they thought their tight little cunts could take the forced expansion no more. At that point, the lover would take over and maneuvering around, he would make his expert hips rotate and bob up and down until he had them screeching and writhing with orgiastic spasms under him. When they were through, he still had not cum. And most of the time he withheld himself to take them on for a second round . . . that was what really sealed the sale. It was like being a gigolo, he got paid for his good "job" by the ladies themselves.
Stella's confused mind had finally "straightened" under the barrage of medical reasons the masseur had bombarded her with, and as the gentle hands worked around her temples her upturned young body began to relax again. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to stare at the ceiling ... or either man. The man's ringers had finished their work around her head and began to move down. Stella felt them now around the base of her neck, stroking softly. Then they moved towards her shoulders and down the length of her arms until all her torso relaxed completely. It was like being in a delightful state of suspension: Not thinking, only feeling and hearing your own inner structure crack and bend under the expert fingers. She was floating in air when ... the same hands moved and encircled her breasts . .. and abruptly that inner calmness was gone, replaced by a tense jerk.
"It's nothing.. . relax again," the man said soothingly as his hands cupped the fleshy base of her breasts, working them over from behind her head so that she could not see his face.
She couldn't see either how Fred's hot eyes glimmered as the masseur dug his fingers into her softly quivering mounds and made them rotate one against the other. It almost seemed to him that the tender and rosy nipples merged into one rose bud each time the man pushed her breasts together. He began again stroking his thick erect penis gently, very gently, so as not to excite it beyond his control. Again he unsheathed the blood-filled cock-head exposing it to the warm room temperature.
"What we are going to do now," the masseur said, "is to elicit a verbal response from you as I massage. Understand?"
"No .. .not quite," Stella answered weakly, feeling very uncertain of the entire situation again.
"It simply means I want you to tell me exactly what you feel while I massage you. Whether you like it, what you feel - really feel - inside .. . things of that nature."
"Oh, I see," Stella said feeling still uncomfortable as the man's hands kept hugging the sensitive base of her warmly tingling breasts.
Now the hands began to move upwards, grabbing more of the fleshy fullness of her breasts. She tensed up again as the fingers enclosed around the totalness of each firm mound leaving only the aureola and the nipple exposed to view. While the hands rotated the quivering mounds, the fingers began a kneading-like motion around the aureola that seemed to touch very deep-lying and sensitive nerve ends. Stella tensed up again when she felt the nerves begin to respond, out of their own will, to the kneading fingers. She was beginning to get frightened of her body and of its own power to react without her mental consent.
"You are discovering things about your own body, eh?" the man asked her as if he were reading her thoughts once again.
Stella just nodded her head in assent in order to avoid admitting aloud the disturbing fact; it was disturbing to feel the deep response of her body to the fingers! No one had ever made her feel so . . . physically excited by just touching her breasts as this man. No, not even George; not even when he sucked them or bit them. This was different, more satisfying, but also disconcerting because it was awakening other sensations and driving them deep down to the roots of her being .. . which now seemed to be located in her warmly tingling vagina.
"Tell me what you feel now," the man asked her in a confidential tone, as if only the two of them were in the room, yet their secret still required a whispering nature.
"I don't know exactly how to .. . well, put it," she said in the same voice level, hoping perhaps that Fred Rodgers could not hear her.
"Let's see if I can help you. Do you feel a little excited, perhaps? And perhaps a little more excited than you usually feel when a man touches your tits?"
"I.. . Ye . .. es. I suppose," she said, her ears burning again at his use of vulgar and obscene words.
"Describe the sensation for me."
"Well.. . it's as if I were beginning to get sexually aroused," she said, blushing to the roots of her blonde hair and lowering her voice still more. And it was true! Her nipples were beginning to itch in their need to be touched. No, not touched, kneaded. They were beginning to ache with desire, and she didn't know how to relieve the mounting pressure building at their tips. But the most horrifying thing was that the same feeling began to awaken in the rest of her body. She was beginning to feel itchy for a pair of strong hands to touch her and caress her all over... all the way down to her now moistly seeping vagina. She felt ashamed of herself, but still the feeling didn't stop, it just seemed to intensify by the minute as the man's fingers kneaded and caressed those deep-lying nerve ends she did not know existed before.
The bewildered young secretary was beginning to be afraid that her irregular breathing might give away the true status of her feelings, and she made an effort to keep her breathing as normal as possible, but it was becoming a strenuous effort to do it. My God, she thought, feeling how her nipples ached, I hope he massages them too. But all her being was begging for more than a massage. It was begging for her nipples to be squeezed hard to release the impending pressure in them. She had been staring fixedly at the ceiling all this time, but now she couldn't help but glance down and look at her breasts. She cringed at the overpowering excitement that the lewd sight pumped into her body: His strong hands were holding her breasts masterfully, and the large brown aureolas, crowned with the fully erected nipples, were protruding between the fingers of his encircling hand. Her nipples had grown and were beginning to distend wantonly at the touch of his kneading hands; they looked like berries .. . wanting, screaming, to be picked, licked and eaten. She flicked her gaze away almost immediately to cleanse the obscene thoughts from her mind.
"Does it bother you to see me doing this to you?" the man asked, catching the direction of her eye movement.
"Ye ... es," she said hesitantly.
"But you like it don't you?"
She didn't answer him, but her blush intensified.
"Don't you?" the man asked insistently at her silence.
"Ye . .. yes," she said confused.
"Do your nipples feel distended and pressured?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to squeeze them?"
Did she want! My God, her whole body was begging for it! But she couldn't tell him. It was not right... something seemed wrong in the approach. She couldn't ask him to do it. It would be like begging him to masturbate her!
"Don't, don't feel ashamed. This is why I'm here. To help you and help you discover the inner truth about yourself," the man said in a very low voice close to her ear.
Still she couldn't.
"Tell me, don't be afraid, I'm a professional man," he said whispering. And his hands seemed to move more maddeningly than ever before, driving her out of her mind... she wanted .. . she ...
"I do, I do," she whispered, almost begging. "What exactly," he prodded her on. "To squeeze my nipples," she said now wild with an overpowering desire.
No sooner than she had finished uttering the last words the masseur brought his fingers up to each of her nipples. But instead of squeezing them to release the pressure he began taunting them with a soft almost superficial massage. Stella could hardly control herself, for the tantalizing caresses almost drove her crazy.
"Oooooh, oooooooooooh!," she gasped suddenly at the hard pinch the man gave her two rose-buds. And she sensed how the two budding nipples became erect and hard, ready to be rolled between the strong fingers.
It didn't take long. The masseur knew she was more than ready, and he let his thumbs and forefingers go to work. He began to roll the tender, berry-like nipples back and forth and from side to side. He squeezed them hard, but almost instantly released the pressure so that Stella felt only a slight pang of pain that, instead of hurting her, seemed to increase the stimulation of her senses.
Her tongue felt a little heavy from having to control the desire to moan and groan, as his wonderful fingers rolled the pressure out of her wildly straining breasts. And yet, instead of receiving satisfaction, she was now more desperate than ever because the hungering need - instead of disappearing under the expert's hand - transferred itself deep down into her belly, igniting the smoldering embers of lust in her cunt. Until now her dully throbbing clitoris had just felt the general desire of her body, but now it was budding and jutting erect as the insane throbbing of her breasts reverberated like a gong throughout her loins. The naked young secretary felt like screaming. The fingers felt so good on her nipples as they kneaded and squeezed, but it was not enough. She needed more! God! she was ashamed, but she needed more! Not more in her contented breasts, but more - much more - right where it counted ... in her hotly hungering cunt.
My, my, the sweet little bitch really gets hot fast, doesn't she? Fred thought smiling to himself. Well, no one with that kind of shape could possibly be a jelly-fish. But still he had not expected such quick reaction from that cock-stiffening little body of hers. Of course, the masseur was an expert! But the real point of his surprise was his own reaction to the lewd spectacle. Already his frantically pulsing cock was ready to explode in a fountain of white hot cum. It was way too early, he told himself. It was useless! But his impatiently hardened penis had a mind of its own and now all it wanted was a good fuck. Well, old buddy, he thought, you just have to wait! His aching balls were beginning to fill faster than he wanted with their hot churning liquid. Where was all that self-control he prided himself to have. Right now it seemed gone down the drain, and the only thing that remained was the gnawing ache in his penis and balls. It had never been so fast before . . . but he had never waited for a cunt as long as he had waited for this one. And seeing the beautiful young blonde like this, excited and ready, and naked atop a table, how could he help but let his cock jump with lust. He stroked his member a little harder and looked at it almost with compassion. You'll get to her, he thought, the best is still to come.
For Stella, the whole world seemed to come to a stop when the man's strong hands stopped kneading her breasts. He proceeded to massage the rest of her body as if the excitement and peak he had brought her to were nothing but part of an unfinished ritual. Stella's mind seemed to dangle at the edge of a precipice: She did not know whether to scream and beg the man to finish the job he started, or to swallow her tongue and bear the torture with a stiff upper lip. As the man's hands worked her midriff, her excitement grew and grew. Now it was not just a tingling sensation running rampant all over her body; it was a hot implacable hunger - a wild need to be fed - in that quivering little mouth up between her legs. She had to control herself not just from moaning, but from opening and closing her legs in an obscene invitation to caress her there. It was blatantly indecent how she felt, but there was nothing she could do! She could hardly manage to keep quiet now. The tormenting hands moved from her ribs down to her passion-tensed little belly and began massaging from her navel to her hips, each hand acting as an independent agent. Then it happened ...
"Oooohhh ..." she moaned under her breath when she felt the hands move down to where her thighs met the torso. It was too close to her hotly throbbing cunt for comfort.
"It's getting to you?" the masseur asked when he overheard her whisper.
Stella did not answer.
Moving his hands slowly along her satin-textured thighs and letting his fingers touch gently the top of her softly curling triangle of pubic hair, he asked her again, "Are you sexually excited? Don't be ashamed of answering. I expect you to be."
Stella could not bring herself to answer. But her breath had come almost to a stop when she felt the man's hand dig between her excitedly trembling legs and separate them before beginning to massage her super-sensitive inner thighs. She was too shamelessly aroused now in her vagina to question whether this was right or wrong; whether it was proper for her to be lying naked on the table while a total stranger fumbled around her wetly hungering pussy, massaging her inner thighs, with her employer watching it all. These questions vanished from her consciousness as the raging fires searing the middle of her cunt grew hotter and spread. Oh God, she thought, someone do something!
"Are you? Are you hot?" the man asked as his fingers gently touched the narrow, hair-lined slit that separated the full hungrily throbbing lips of her pussy ...
"Oooooohh! Oooooooh!" Stella moaned unable to control herself any longer when the man finally caressed the burning center of desire.
"Tell me. Are you hot?" he asked again while his hand placed more pressure on the wet, hair-lined slit.
"Oooooh, God! Yes ... yes. Can't you see?" she said almost whimpering at the man's handling of her quivering vaginal lips.
"That's just the way we expect you to be," he answered and with that he moved one hand under knees and lifted them so that her legs bent and propped themselves up. Then with one swift movement he spread them so that her insanely pulsating pussy was at last in a position to be "massaged."
Jeeeessssuuus! Fred thought, feeling weak at the knees. Look at that. For Pete's sake, look at what a fantastic little cunt she had. . . Staring now for the first time straight into the girl's rose-hued cuntal cavern, he could not hold out any longer, and he started stroking his thickly heated cock, slipping the thick foreskin over and down the swollen head that was already dripping with lust-incited semen.
The masseur opened the moistly heated lips of Stella's expectant pussy in what seemed to her to be torturous slow motion. Then without the help of any lubricant he began sliding his outstretched middle finger up and down the open vaginal lips - from the tip of her erect little clitoris to the mouth of her hotly dilated cunt. The hopelessly aroused young secretary simply couldn't take it any longer, and involuntarily her legs began to scissor open and closed in an effort to bring on an orgasm. It was plain to her now that she was powerless to resist the burning desire in her vagina, and all she cared about now was the exquisite release that only a climax could bring. Secretly she prayed that the man would stop playing around with her clitoris and slip one or two fingers into her. She didn't care! All she wanted was to quench the longing in her loins.
Then suddenly softer fingers seemed to replace, the master hand, and she opened her eyes to watch in a trance how her employer ran his hands over her nakedly defenseless vagina while the masseur held her cuntal lips open for him.
"Ooooh, no ... no ... " she moaned in desperation and whatever shame was left in her mind.
"He, too, must be freed from his sexual inhibitions and hang-ups," the masseur said simply.
She was too far gone to really care now and the suave fingers were tweaking her little clitoris with such expertise that new waves of spasmodic pleasure were wringing her lust-contorted body. She began to rock her head sideways as Fred Rodgers kept tantalizing the sensitive inner lips of her cunt and playing teasingly with her frantically throbbing clitoris. Until... she could hold no more ... she needed ... God!
"Oh, please, please ..." she pleaded.
"What?" asked the masseur.
"Oh, please do something... do something before I go crazy ..." she finally muttered out the words pounding in her chest.
"Something like this?" the man asked as he put his fingers directly on the quivering little mouth of her dilating cunt.
"Oooooh! No . . . noooo . . . not like that..." she moaned.
"Tell me then, how?"
"Ooooooh! Ooooooh! In. In! Put it inside me!" she almost screamed out.
Without the aid of vaseline this time the man jammed three of his fingers into her moistly clasping cunt and began fucking them in and out with the same efficiency he had worked her anus before.
"Ooooooooh God! OOOOOoooooo HHHHHhhh!" Stella moaned uncontrollably as she felt the fingers moving like a wonderfully thick penis inside the hotly hungering walls of her cunt. They dug in and stretched out making her feel as if the only world was the one centered up between her wildly thrashing legs. God, she was so hot that it would take only seconds to cum! She writhed without care or shame and her head flailed from side to side in an obscene picture of complete abandonment.
Suddenly the masseur began pumping in and out of her wetly clasping crevice with rhythmic movements that rubbed against her clitoris on the inward strokes. Stella was beyond herself now and, without caring what sort of a picture she made, she began eagerly lifting her nakedly working buttocks up in the air at each downstroke of the man's powerful hand . . . just as if some thick wonderful cock were really fucking her. Suddenly, the naked young blonde stiffened; she jerked her hips up to the man's finger once .. . twice . . . three times and then . . . then .. .
That was it! She was going to cum! Godd, God!, she was going . . . to . . . ccccuuuuummmmmm . ..
"OoooooooHHHHHH! OOOOOOOHHHHH!" she heard herself scream out loud as a wetly heated feeling inundated the depths of her wildly convulsing cunt. Her legs twitched in spasms of ungovernable pleasure as her body rocked with the electric shock of orgasm. She didn't hold her legs back this time when they jerked out towards the man's shoulders, offering the soft warmth of her cunt for one last fucking stroke. Then ... then, she collapsed.
"Christ . . . Christ . . . I'm cummmmmmiiiiinnnggg tooo!" she heard a low masculine voice moan .. . very low. She didn't have to open her eyes to recognize whose it was. She knew - her boss.
Fred, too, unable to hold himself any longer after touching his secretary's wetly throbbing cunt, and after the obscenely exciting picture of Stella's subjugation to the man's questions and massage, had let his sperm-laden balls fill and explode. The viscous liquid flowed up to the head of his madly jerking penis and his cum pumped out, fast and hot.
Like Stella he almost had no time to enjoy the pleasures of his orgiastic climax ... he had been holding out too long. Now as the last drop of his milk-like semen dripped from his rapidly deflating cock, the passion-tensed muscles in his body began to relax, and he wiped off the sweat on his forehead with the palm of his hand. Man! What a scene, he thought. What a wild, unbelievable scene! And, shit, it hasn't even started yet!