As Ben watched, he saw the rain that spattered the girl's shoulders and chest trail down into her cleavage, then fall into the tip of the jutting bamboo tube. Her simple but artful breast-bondage formed her white bosom into a broad spout that directed the rain that fell on her upper body into the open-ended cylinder below. For a moment, nothing happened, while Ben stood in silent admiration of the girl's classical beauty, and of Chenichi-san's visual poetry. Then, as rainwater filled the open-ended bamboo phallus, its balance shifted forward....slowly at first, then gaining speed it tipped downwards, until it spilled its collected rain into the pond below. As it reached the downward limit of its travel, there was a sharp knock as its weighted back-end rapped against the carved hardwood plug that filled the girl's rectum. "One!" the girl squeaked softly in Japanese, even before the drained knocker swung upwards again. When it slapped up against her tender pink clitoris, exposed. She decided to endure, no matter what. With the stakes higher now, he felt her determination. He glided the ice effortlessly over her upper body until stopping it at her armpit. He pressed it firmly, moving it back and forth over the small ultra-sensitive area. Donna's body involuntarily jerked upward, again stressing the ropes to the max. Strange moans, tainted with urgent pleading tones, escaped from her lips. Her teeth began to chatter. He moved the ice to her lower body to lessen the tension before running the shrinking block up and down her legs in rapid strokes. This step reduced the intensity, yet Donna began to quiver. Not only was the ice affecting her, but she was terrified that he would ice her feet. She thought it was the one area on which she could not tolerate the cold.She was greatly relieved when he pushed the block back up her legs without touching her feet. But the relief was short-lived. The ice, which had melted to the size of a cube, was pressed against her clit..
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