Child of the Klein Bottle

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Akito01
Akito01
172 Followers

"Just beautiful," I murmured, taking in the puckered hole of her vaginal opening, and the folded skin covering her unseen clitoris. What would it take to make it a little more prominent, I slyly wondered. I certainly couldn't stand to go this long simply looking. At some point, one must touch.

Laying her down flat on the kitchen counter, she reacted against the comparatively cold surface touching her skin. Not paying attention to this discomfort, I took hold of her legs in each hand, spreading them apart and stroking the inner surface of her thighs with my thumbs. She raised herself on her elbows, watching me intently, her expression one of muted fear.

"It's alright," I assured her in a quiet voice, "I promise I won't hurt you. Trust me. This will feel very good, if I get this right."

I continued to sooth her slick wet skin, my thumbs drifting closer to the centre, where her sex lay waiting. Using the pad of one thumb, I gently rubbed and stroked along her slit, paying particular attention to the ridge of her clit. She made a whimper of complaint, shuffling back slightly, but not far enough out of my range. I made slow circles over her clit, and then used both thumbs to pry open her loose labia. I could see the traces of whitish fluid that escaped from her vagina; vivid proof that she wasn't immune to this kind of stimulation. Bending my head down, I took a sniff of her open cunt, noting that unique scent that only women have between their legs. I spread her cunt lips a little bit further, now exposing the bright tip of her engorged clitoris, just peeking out from it's foreskin. Unable to resist, I bent my head down further and flicked the tip of my tongue up and along it. She let out a startled yelp, and instinctively tried to back away, but my grip on her legs was too strong. I gave a secret smile, knowing now just how much I had gotten to her. I continued my oral assault, using the edge of my tongue to quickly rub back and forth along the length of her slit. Her labia were so loose now I could even taste the juices accumulating in her vagina. That gave me yet another thought.

Backing away, I looked down at her gaping cunt and made a swift mental calculation. By scale, I figured the tip of my little finger would be roughly the size of a well endowed penis. Well, perhaps somewhat larger, but I knew I could do it without hurting her. Wetting my pinky finger with my own saliva, I levelled it upside down and pressed the tip up to her pussy. It refused to slip in easily, but by applying gentle but firm pressure her vagina finally accepted the intruding fingertip inside. Sara let out a loud cry, looking down the length of her body to where my finger was lodged in the space between her legs. Her cunt was obscenely distended, and I gave her a short while to get used to the feeling of penetration before rocking my fingertip back and forth in the motion of copulation.

Her interior was so warm and soft, and made sure to be gentle as I fucked her tender cunt. As her wetness increased, I was even able to invade her up to the second knuckle. Sara's head lay back, eyes closed, her breath coming in laboured gasps. Sensing she was beyond the point of trying to escape, I moved my free hand from her leg to her chest, toying with her flatted breasts. Her naturally pale skin had become reddened over her chest and face, blushing with the sudden rush of sexual excitement.

Sara's hands clenched at her sides, and as her back arched, I knew the inevitable conclusion was at hand. Little wet sounds were coming from the motion of my finger inside her, coming faster now that I increased the pace a touch further. Suddenly she let out a loud series of moans, and her body went stiff all over; the first climax of her existence.

In the wake of Sara's orgasm, I only now fully realized how aroused I was myself, and how I had been unconsciously pressing my hips against the side of the counter. Undignified, to be sure, as anyone who's done anything remotely sexual will tell you, once you get to a certain point it's impossible to stop. Withdrawing my hand from Sara's cunt, I swiftly undid my fly and wrapped my fingers around my erection. It took barely any time at all to give myself one of the strongest orgasms of my life.


* * *

The final solution to Sara's living arrangements came with the purchase of a rabbit cage (forgoing the water bottle, naturally). Looked very sparse at it was, so I created a makeshift cot for her to rest on with a number of folded, clean white socks. My poor solution to the toilet problem came with a plastic soap dish half filled with water. She would have to crouch in an awkward and undignified manner to use it, but at least she wouldn't have to soil herself anymore, and I was sure I could eventually work out a much better rig with some thought.

In the end, I even made some clothes for her, sacrificing a bed sheet for the cause. A pair of scissors and some clothes pins later, and she was clad in a form fitting toga-like affair. I actually quite liked how she looked naked, but it didn't seem right having her like that all the time, and it proved more fun to strip her naked when I felt like it than have her bare all the time.

In that first week, I shared my meals with her, did my studies with her in her cage by my side, and played with her whenever the mood took me. My attempts at teaching her language all failed, but I was convinced she understood my words even if she never spoke any herself. I would try and find new ways to take care of her, such as brushing her teeth and hair (both trickier than one might think), and bathing her every day.

I would be lying if I said I didn't continue to take sexual liberties with her. Having a living breathing woman in the palm of one's had is the best pornography one could hope for. I loved finding interesting and safe ways of penetrating and masturbating her vagina, like the cap to a ball point pen or a Q-tip well moistened with baby oil. I think she came to accept these advances, since she rarely bolted anymore, and often took any position I wanted to make it easier for the both of us. Having her on her hand and knees while I teased and played with her cunt from behind with a finger was a favourite, as was the act of running my tongue up and along her slit. I could easily make her come this way, and I loved hearing her desperate gasps and moans as climax approached. All of these games would eventually lead to my own orgasm, most often achieved with my own hand. She was now used to the sight of my engorged member, but teaching her to rub and stimulate it was beyond my patience at these times. But, on more than one occasion, I would rub my glans over and along her bare back or belly as I stimulated myself, unapologetically letting my ejaculation spurt all over her.

If what we had could be considered a relationship, then thats what it was. I adored Sara to no end, and I had fewer and fewer problems keeping my charge from getting into trouble or attempting to escape. I still used the cage, but beyond that, I didn't need to do a great deal to control Sara. I lot of that was due to the Klein Bottle -like any alchemical creation, it was intimately tied to the one who created her. However twisted this situation may have seemed from the outside, for me, it was all I could have hoped for.

* * *

The beginning of the end came with the re-appearance of Paul. I'd been avoiding pretty much all social contact during this time, so naturally he came to see me. As before, I hadn't planned ahead for visitors, and so when he barged his way in, the first thing he laid eyes on was Sara in her cage.

"I wondered whatever happened to the bottle woman," he chuckled, bending down to peer closer. At least she was wearing her bed sheet kimono, I mentally sighed. This wasn't going to admit to any easy explanations either way.

"Yeah, um, there she is," I shrugged, trying not to make it seem like any big deal.

Sara looked apprehensive, her back to the opposite side of the cage as Paul poked a finger in, waggling it at her.

"Does she talk," Paul asked.

"No, I'm afraid not."

"Too bad. Does she have a name."

"Hadn't thought about it," I lied. "Not really that important."

"Why not name her Sarah?"

Paul glanced back at me, and smiled at what must have been my expression of horror.

"Oh, don't worry, you're secret is safe," he told me. "At least, for now. I knew she looked familiar, but it wasn't until I saw her again just now that my memory twigged. Give her a pair of glasses, and she's a dead ringer. How did you do it? Does she know?"

"No, Sarah doesn't know, of course not," I said, slumping into my seat. "I suppose this puts me in a very bad position, doesn't it?"

"Hey, I'm your friend, I won't tell," he assured me. "But, I think silence on this scale requires a favour in turn, wouldn't you say?"

"I... I suppose so. What did you have in mind?"

Paul looked at Sara with a critical eye, hands braced on either side of the cage in an unmistakably predatory posture.

"Make me one," he said at last, "Make me one of the person of my choice."

I swallowed dryly. In the face of it, I couldn't find any real reason to turn him down.

"Alright, yeah, I can do that for you."

"What do you need from me? Just a strand of hair, something with her DNA, right?"

"Yes, and..." I was about to mention the semen sample, but held back. "No, that will be fine. A bit of hair, a nail, whatever you can find."

I honestly couldn't ask my friend for a sample of his sperm. That would have been too awkward and creepy. At the same time, I realized this meant I would have to use my own -as with Sara. This new creation would in some way be my own offspring, only this time beyond my own control and care. Could I trust Paul with a child of the Klein Bottle? Did I have a choice?

* * *

So, the Klein Bottle was set up once again on my desk top, replacing Sara's cage, which now lay on the floor next to my bed. But, I did often have Sara run free on my desk (the severe height would have prevented any thought of escape, which I don't believe she had). She immediately gravitated to the clear glass container, and would watch with me as this new creation changed and evolved within.

At first, I assumed that Paul would have done as I had, and chosen some girl he might have had a crush on. I hadn't heard of any though, and I'm certain he would have told me if he had. But, as the tiny woman within gained form by inches, I could tell by her tanned skin and dark hair that she must have been Asian, just as Paul was. Granted, this could have meant nothing. With a sickening sensation I did have a sense of who it could be, the only woman of his own ethnicity that played any significant role in his life -his own mother.

If this was true, it wouldn't be easy to tell, since at the height of her growth, she appeared to be in her early to mid twenties. Her slick black hair had grown very long, enveloping her like a blanket. Even towards the end of her growth cycle, she spent most of the time in the bottle in gentle slumber, only occasionally stirring.

I decided against having Paul present during the birthing process, and fortunately he didn't ask to be there, only wishing to get his hands on the finished product as soon as it was available. I also put Sara out of the way, since I would need all the room I could get on my desk. Fortunately, the hour wasn't that late when I deemed it time to bring my new creation into the world. She had reached a size just a touch below Sara's, but the longer she stayed in the bottle, the older she would appear. For reasons alluded to above, I had no desire to see her evolve any further.

The process was much like the previous time, though this time I had the sink already prepared with warm water and soap. When the slender Asian girl finally emerged into real space, I gently picked her up. Face down in my palm, I rubbed her back until she finished coughing out the last of the fluid of life from her lungs. I then carried her to the sink to clean her up, murmuring calming words to her. She was even more well behaved than Sara had been her first time, and gave all appearances of being a very obedient girl indeed. I didn't allow myself to get too acquainted with her, since I knew I wouldn't have her for very long.

Once she had been dried and allowed to rest, I called Paul to have him pick her up. * * *

The next time I ran into Paul, he was very keen and excited. Right from the start I could tell he had something on his mind, and it was a no brainer what it was. He had the chance to live with his little creation for some time now, and I had no doubt he would be eager to share his experiences.

In retrospect, I think Paul had a definite ulterior motive when he sought me out that day. In fact, I think 'ulterior motives' pretty much defined everything he did, but that wasn't something that normally bothered me, at least up 'till now.

But, at this point, I was quite happy to share in the conversation.

"What did you decide to call her?"

"I gave her the name 'R'," Paul answered, "long story, short name. Seems right to me."

Couldn't argue with that.

"Well, I guess I'm glad you're happy with the end result," I said, hoping that the little girl had been well taken care of. I didn't want to ask too many questions about that, at the risk of sounding too possessive or nosey. I did feel a twinge of responsibility for the comparatively fragile girl I helped bring into this world though.

"I think it would be great to get our two together," Paul suggested. "I mean it. Ever see how dogs react when they meet another dog? I wonder what they would do when meeting someone of their own size?"

"I'm willing to bet they won't sniff each other's butts though," I joked.

"They would if we made them do it," Paul smiled.

"Well, I don't know about that," I said, not finding the notion quite as funny. "But, it would be kind of interesting to get them together."

"Thought you might say that," Paul said, patting the blue nylon knapsack he had slung over one arm. "What say we do it right now?"

With that, we made our way to my dorm.

* * *

As it turned out, Paul had been carrying her in that knapsack. Unzipping it open, he took out a loosely rolled white towel. Unwrapping it, he let the frail figure stumble out and onto the desktop.

When I first saw R, I was shocked. Her hair had been cut short to the shoulder in a crude and rugged manner. She sported obvious bruises to her torso and legs. I got the sense that her left arm might have been sprained or fractured from the unusual way she held it. Her eyes were darker than they should have been, and her entire cast was haggard and defeated.

"A bit worse for wear," I remarked, not doing my best to disguise my discomfort at what I was seeing.

"Ah, they're tougher than they look. Just like cats. Don't always land on their feet though, and occasionally need a bit of correction, if you know what I mean."

At that, he took out something else he had in this knapsack; a twelve inch long wooden dowel, which he smacked against his palm. R immediately coward just at the sound it made.

"Didn't bother with any clothes," I noted.

"Nah, not much point in that," Paul shrugged.

I held out my finger to R, but she didn't seem to recognize me.

"What say we put these two together," Paul suggested. "I think we should get this game started."

I didn't see any reason not to, and I admit to being curious as to how these two would interact at their own level. Opening the latch on the cage, Paul lowered R inside. The naked woman looked about her with apprehension, while Sara greeted the new arrival with a guarded but hopeful smile.

"Let playtime begin," Paul mouthed quietly.

R stepped forward, and much to both Sara's and my surprise, wrapped her arms around her back and planted a wide kiss on Sara's mouth. Sara immediately pushed the other woman away, running to the opposite side of the cage. R looked over at Paul, as if to silently say, 'well, I tried.'

"Go on, get her," Paul ordered, thrusting his wooden dowel through the bars and into R's back, forcing her forward.

R landed forcefully on Sara, bringing the two down in a heap on the cotton sock cot. Paul and I watched on as R, despite being shorter, retained the dominant position, holding Sara down by her wrists. She bent down and forcibly kissed the struggling Sara. It was all happening so fast, I couldn't figure out what in the world was happening. Paul, however, appeared very pleased with the course of events, having apparently expected this result. He must have instructed R before hand -no doubt that wooden dowel playing some role in that, accounting for her wretched physical condition. But this brutality had inspired a desperate strength in the smaller R, and she sat on top of Sara, tearing the sheet off her body.

"This is so cool," Paul enthused. "In the mood for placing bets?"

"Placing bets on what?" I muttered.

R held Sara down by keeping one hand on her throat, while at the same time molesting her modest breasts. Finally R turned Sara over, twisting one arm behind her back to retain control, and reached down to thrust a hand in between Sara's legs. Sara let out a pain filled cry, legs scissoring against her violation.

"I would have thought Sara'd put up more of a fight," Paul remarked. "Must be used to rough treatment, I guess. I know how that goes."

By this time I'd had enough. However Paul had engineered it, R was in the middle of raping by dear Sara, and I couldn't stand to see anymore of it. Quickly re-opening the cage, I pulled R off and handed her back to Paul.

"What'd you do that for," Paul asked with rough indignation.

"Why do you think," I replied, turning back to tend to Sara, who still lay as R left her on the cot. She didn't appear to be greatly harmed, but the way she looked up at me in bewilderment and confusion spoke to how much she'd been affected.

"I don't know how long these little guys are meant to last," Paul said as he put R back into his backpack. "But, I'm guessing I might have to get you to make me another one before too long."

"I wouldn't count on that," I said flatly. "I suggest you just take care of R the best you can."

"Is that right," Paul said, eyebrow arched. "Well, in that case, you should take very good care of yours as well. You never know who might come to call next time."

* * *

As I feared, the end wasn't far off. As I knew from the past, Paul was a man given to fits of petulance and petty revenge. Having been his friend, I had never been the focus of this, and usually chose to ignore this darker side. But, it was clear to me that some line had been crossed, and I should expect the worst. And, as he said, I never knew who could come to call when the doorbell rang a handful of days later.

When I answered the door, I was struck silent by the sight of Sarah K. She was dressed in a long dark coloured cloak, arms folded across her torso in a protective manner, head low. It were as if this was the last place in the world she wanted to be, yet here she was. I didn't know what to say, and there passed a fairly long moment of silence.

"I, um..." I finally stammered, still at a loss for words.

"I already know," she said solemnly. "At least, I know what I've been told. I still can't believe it. It isn't true, is it? It couldn't be. You have to tell me."

I hesitated, but I couldn't look into Sarah's face and blatantly lie. I still had no real words to say, so I simply stepped back and allowed her to enter my apartment. How many times in the past had I dreamed about having this lithe young woman come inside? However, in present circumstances, this was about the worst thing that could possibly happen.

Her reaction was exactly as one might expect. On first sight of Sara, Sarah's hand leapt to her mouth as she let out a shocked gasp. I think she might have froze in that position for the longest time, if it wasn't for Sara. She seemed to recognize her genetic progenitor, and came to stand up close to the bars of her cage, staring up at her.

Akito01
Akito01
172 Followers