For a long moment, the baron and baroness sat not speaking. "That's it then," said baroness lady Heather. The statement needed no answer, so the baron offered none. After a pause, he said: "do you have - I mean, how do you -" "I will take care of it myself," she said. "If you don't mind." The boldness of her choice brought a flush to her pale skin. "Uh, well, if you need -" With a brief, sad smile she shook her head. She rose from the table, and with a rustle of satin, walked out. She went directly to her chambers, pausing on the way only long enough to send word for her personal bodyguard to join her. Passing through her rooms, she went into her small private garden. The roses she tended with her own hands greeted her with their aroma. A fountain and shallow pool occupied roughly a quarter of the garden, with the roses planted in patches arced through the other three. She sat on the edge of the pool to wait. At one point, she started to move, with the vague idea that she ought to be doing something. Then, she stilled as she realized that there was nothing she really needed. There was only one thing to do; everything else was all so futile, now. It crossed her mind to marvel at how calm she felt. Oh, she could feel a knot of fear, low in her stomach. But, since she had made up her mind, she felt resigned, almost relaxed. Zhad strode in firmly, eyes automatically glancing around, looking for threats, even here. Lady Heather smiled, taking in his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and the dark fur and lean lines of his Doberman antecedents. He was wearing the green tunic and leather cuirass of the house guard, and carried a short sword sheathed at his side. With his customary economy of movement, he came to her and dropped to one knee. "Lady." "My dear Zhad." She raised a hand to gently scratch behind the base of his ears. Somewhat reluctantly she stopped scratching. Her hand fell to pat the wide stone side of the fountain pool. "Sit here with me." He obeyed, with a quick fluid motion. She lay her hand on his leg below the hem of the tunic. His pelt felt soft under her palm. "My dear, dear Zhad. I am going to ask you to do something for me. Something horrible." First he looked alert to new orders; then he looked alarmed. "Your husband? I can't -" "No. I'll not ask you to harm the baron. Me" His eyes widened with shock. "You know that my marriage was a political arrangement? Meant to ease tensions between my father's people and my husband's. Sadly, it has failed. My marriage - l have become an embarrassment, a nuisance, to both my husband and my father. I have become the greatest point of contention between our peoples. As things are now, a war is likely to start over me!" He looked away, sadly, and placed his hand on hers to offer her a comforting squeeze. Her voice was deceptively calm as she said: "I need to die." He couldn't bear to look at her. Although, whether he was hiding his feelings from her, or he was afraid to see her feelings in her eyes, even he would not have able to say. So, they sat quietly, holding hands. Finally, she broke the silence, saying: "This garden has always been special to me. Even more than my own bed, this is my place." She smiled fondly. "I had you for the first time in the waters of this pool." He smiled, also. "My husband, too, for that matter." His smile faded. "Did you know that my husband intended you to be my bed slave, when he assigned you as my bodyguard?" Somewhat guiltily, he nodded. She continued: "I didn't at first. But, I'm glad he did. Did you know he sometimes spied on us when we did it?" At that, Zhad looked worried. "Oh, it's alright," she said, "I spied on him sometimes with the girls he had, too. He liked the spying, and being spied upon. It excited him. Just as I liked doing it in the water, and being tied down like a slave girl" She chuckled quietly. "You know, the great sex was the only good part of this entire arrangement." "I'm glad I could help make your life more pleasant." "And now, I want you to help me end it. I'm sorry I must ask this of you, but this would so hard to do myself." Again he turned his face away, this time closing his eyes against his anguish. "Please?" He nodded with a brief jerk of his head. She sighed. "Thank you." "How?" "I want you to take me, one last time. In the pool, again. And when I near climax - push my head under the water and drown me like an unwanted kitten." For a moment, there was no response. The pain in his heart evident despite his closed eyes. Then slowly, firmly he nodded. She rose to her feet, stepped out of her slippers, and began struggling with the buttons of her over-girdle. When it fell to the paving stones, she reached over her shoulders and started pulling at her gown's laces. He stood and helped, and made short work of it. She squirmed out of the layers of rich satin, and the gown fell. The under-skirt and petticoat soon followed, leaving her standing before him wearing only her cotton stockings tied at the knee with colored ribbon. It was easier for him to unhook his leather vest, slip his tunic over his head and shove his breech-clout to the ground. Watching her undress was clearly stimulating him. He was particularly aroused by the sight of her pubic hair. In his mind, that vestige of 'fur' on a human woman was her second most attractive feature. Smiling coyly, she stepped into the pool and sat down. Seated, the shallow water barely came to her waist. She lay back on her elbows, and spread her legs. He stepped into the pool, and sank down between her knees. Propping himself up on his elbows, he placed his hands under her buttocks. He lifted her hips enough that he could place his tongue on her lower lips. He then began to lick and lap at her most attractive feature As the baron was excited by watching, as the baroness was excited by water and bindings, the bodyguard was excited by a woman's most intimate recess. It was this feature that, in his mind, was the one feature skin and fur women had in common. Although skin women had one advantage: with no pelt, their thighs were more sensitive under his tongue. At first, although she wanted the pleasure, her mind was fixed on how this would end. Fortunately perhaps, she had always enjoyed his tongue on her lower lips. And, he was so very good at it. Slowly but certainly, her focus shifted to her groin. As he sensed her arousal, he increased his efforts. He was aware that women simply take longer to build to climax than men. Since he enjoyed giving pleasure, he was willing to take the time. The reason his various lovers enjoyed his oral address so much, was his deliberate effort to build in stages: the periphery with a light touch on the labia, the labia with a light touch on the periphery, the labia with intrusions as deep as his tongue could reach, and finally the clitorus. She was well aroused by the time his tongue reached her clitorus. That familiar pressure was building steadily in her loins. She was barely aware of her body squirming or her low groans. Her attention shifted relentlessly toward the desire for release. She no longer simply wanted him, she needed him. No words were necessary. The movements in her hips and the intensity of her moans told him when it was time. He lowered her hips with a smile, and started to crawl up her body. Her skin was alive with the feel of wet fur rubbing over her. When the touch of his pelt on her nipples made them instantly harden, she felt it as a new jolt of desire. When he started nibbling on her neck, it sent shivers of pleasure down her spine into her loins. Her body moved, without conscious effort. It rubbed her thighs against his sides, and her nipples against his chest. Eagerness to have her special place filled, was steadily turning into desperation. "Please," she begged, "please!" Zhad placed his weight on one arm, so it would not crush her. He slid his other hand between their hips. With a familiar movement, he guided his erection to her. His fingers spread her lower lips, and he poked in. The first few thrusts were a bit rough, but her natural fluids soon eased his way. There was a sense of completion that she often felt when she had a male member in her this way. A comforting feeling that something missing had been returned. Not this day. All she felt now was an almost frantic longing for a hard pounding. Her ankles on the back of his thighs pulled at him, encouraging him to slam into her. She was not in a mood to be loved; she wanted to be fucked. Obedient to her unspoken signals, he ruthlessly nailed her hips to the hard stone of the pool. It worked. The need for release flared up out of her belly, filling her being, and threatening to overwhelm her. She had a tendency to hold her breath during her orgasms. She often liked to lower her head under the water as she neared climax, forcing her to do without air. A game she played with herself to see if she could finish without surfacing. The lack of oxygen made her light headed, and she found that a thrilling spice added to her sex. So too, this time, she slid her elbows out from under, and let her head sink back into the water. As her hands gripped his sides, his hands shifted from the pool bottom to her shoulders. The pressure holding her down reminded her that she would not be allowed another breath. Suddenly, the fear in her heart was in conflict with the desire in her belly. She was going to die! Her fear began to mute her desire. She could feel a hint of panic, but she still had enough control to remember she had chosen to be in this position. She turned her attention to the man flesh spearing into her. She wanted that orgasm. No matter what else happened, she needed that orgasm! Now, the desire muted the fear. Since she was accustomed to holding her breath underwater during orgasm, being held underwater was helping to trigger her climax. She made a deliberate effort to focus on her groin. The welcome pressure for release returned, building in her body. Almost too soon, she felt the approach of her climax. She deliberately exhaled air, and inhaled water. The orgasm roared out of her groin, and flamed through her body. Her muscles seized up; her ankles curled around his thighs and pulled; her fingers dug into his pelt and gripped tightly. The power of it blocked out the strange pressure of water in her lungs and sinuses. The light headed feeling she had so often sought in the water was stronger than she had ever before experienced, and it seemed to intensify the sexual fire burning in her belly. Yet, as they say, all good things must come to an end. The orgasm rolling through her subsided. She started to rise, but his hands on her shoulders kept her down. How odd her chest felt, with her lungs full of water, not air. And drowsy, more so than the usual post-coital lassitude. She tried to look at Zhad, but his face was blurry through the water, and her vision edged with grey. She raised a hand to gently touch his muzzle. Her hand fell back into the pool, as she drifted off to sleep.