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Feather

By: shadowcat



She leads him by the hand into the bedroom. There she slowly takes off his clothes, grazing him with only the lightest of touches. She goes behind him and ties his hands together with a black scarf; the silky fabric is smooth against his skin. She takes another scarf and ties it around his eyes; he's now in darkness. He senses her standing in front of him and then slowly circles him. She doesn't touch him and he shivers in anticipation. She tells him not to move and then leaves the room. He is left alone; his ears strain trying to hear her in the other parts of the house. He is left to wonder when she will be back and what she will do when she gets there...

* * * * *

Later she comes quietly into the room. He feels a bit apprehensive not knowing what she is going to do. He jumps as she softly touches his shoulder. She chuckles. He feels her standing behind him. He feels the soft tickling as a feather goes over his shoulders. Goose bumps come to his skin.

She runs the feather slowly, softly over his shoulders and down his back. Lower and lower until she skims the top of his bare ass with the feather, back and forth. She runs the feather up and down the crack of his ass. She goes further down and catches the bottom of his ass and follows the contours of his cheeks. His legs are spread wide and she run the feather over the back of his balls. He gasps and shifts out of the way. She harshly tells him to "stay put and not to move again."

She runs the feather over his inner thighs where the skin is extra sensitive. He shivers in response and again she chuckles. Next she runs the feather down one leg and tickles the back of his knee. He moans and tries to move the knee away. *SMACK* she hits him on the ass with her open palm; he puts his leg back. She tickles the other knee; he moans and squirms slightly. She pulls the feather down to one ankle and tickles the top of his feet. She moves the feather up and down the back of his legs as she crawls in front of him. She is eye-level to his dick and it's getting hard.

She runs the feather up one leg to the knee, this time in front, and start to go further up. His breath hitches in anticipation. She bypasses the area he really wants her to play with and stands up. She starts again at his shoulders and neck running the feather softly side to side across his chest. She makes it to one of his nipples and she teases it with the tip of the feather; the nipple puckers up hard. She moves to the other one and does the same.

She has only touched him once with her hand other wise it's been only with the feather. It makes her so hot to have aroused him so much - with only one touch. She leans forward and softly kisses one of his nipples; he shudders at the touch of her lips. She smiles and flicks out her tongue to lick at one nipple then the next. He moans again and she bites a nipple lightly, and then soothes it with her tongue. As she kisses and bites him she moves the feather further down; running it slowly down his stomach and playing around his belly button.

She steps back, breathing heavily, and watches him. His head is cocked to one side, trying to see under the blindfold and his arms and hands are trying to get out of the scarf at his wrists; but she tied them very well and only she can undo them. She reaches forward with the feather and touches the sensitive skin at one hip; his dick jumps and she laughs again.

She decides to go ahead and play nice. The feather slowly goes down and reaches the base of his dick. She teases him there for several seconds until his hips are jerking. She pulls away again and lets him calm down for several seconds. His dick is standing out by now and she start to slowly circle it with the feather like she usually does with her tongue, around and around. She pulls the feather down to his tip and rubs it over the top of his dick; the end gets wet from his pre-cum.

"Do you want more?" she asks. He moans. She smacks one of his ass cheeks with her hand, hard, and then the other cheek. There are bright red hand prints on his ass. "I asked you a question."

"Yes, I want more," the strained response comes from his lips. She reaches out and takes him by one hand, the feather playing at his ass again. She just squeezes the head of his dick and makes him cry out. She runs her hand down the length of him. Her hand holds the base of his cock and she slowly lowers her mouth and kisses the tip of his dick. Her tongue licks up the last of the pre-cum before she takes more of him in her mouth. Her tongue circles him, like the feather did earlier as she goes further down.

She drops the feather and her other hand rubs his ass. As she sucks him in deeper into her mouth, her finger penetrates him. His hips strain forward as she increases the rhythm of her mouth on his dick and her fingers pump him at the same time. After several moments she stops and looks up at him. He's panting fast and his head is thrown back in pleasure. The sensations overwhelm his darkened world. She runs a finger tip over his engorged cock and he shivers in response.

"Do you want to fuck me, baby?" she asks. He tries to speak but nothing comes out. She sees him trying to swallow and a raspy "Yes" finally comes out. She smiles and licks her way up his body, stopping to nip at each nipple and ends up kissing his lips, long and slow. 

She pulls away again and goes behind him and undoes the scarf at his wrists. She tells him not to move. She rubs his wrists to get the circulation back and kisses each palm. She reaches up and unties the blindfold and he blinks in the sudden candle light. She bites one of his shoulders hard, leaving teeth marks and he gasps.

She walks in front of him and he see that she's only wearing thigh high black stockings and high heels; he moans again and take a step towards her. "Stop," she tells him; he does. She walks over to the bed and lies down on the mound of pillows. Her hands run up and down her full tits, the nipples hard points, she pulls and twists at them. She put a finger in her mouth and sucks it like she did his dick, in and out. She then runs her finger down from her lips; leaving a wet trail down to one of her tits; she teases the nipple a little then runs it down her stomach. She goes in and out of her belly button once, just a suggestion of what is to come. She runs the wet finger down to her mound and slowly opens her legs and spreads them wide. He sees her so red, hot and wet.

"You make me so wet baby," she tell him. "Just look, I'm dripping already." Her finger plays at her clit just rubbing is slowly. She moans; it feels so good. Her finger goes lower and she put it in her dripping hole. "You want this?" she asks as she puts her finger in her mouth and sucks off the cream.

"Fuck, yes," he growls out.

"Good, come here." 

He slowly walks to the bed and gets in between her legs. His hands grab her ass and pull her further down on the bed; he buries his head in her pussy, licking up and down her lips. His fingers open her and his tongue spanks her clit; she cries out and jerks her hips up to meet his tongue. He bites and sucks at her, driving her crazy; she grabs his head and pushes it into her pussy. He puts three fingers into her and fucks her deep with them. Her hips pumping his face as he sucks up her juices.

"God, baby, put your hard cock in me and fuck me," she breathlessly sobs out. He bites her clit, causing her to scream out again. 

He looks up at her, his face smeared with her juices. "Get your ass in the air," he tells her.

She scrambles up and gets on all fours, ass facing him, juices running down her thighs. He gets up behind her and then spanks her ass several times; her breath hitches and she shudders with each slap. "I'll cum soon if you keep that up," she says. He rubs her sore ass and she moans loudly.

She feels his hard dick at her ass, rubbing up and down her crack. He goes lower and rubs against her wet pussy lips, teasing her. She pushes her hips back trying to get his dick in. It's his turn to laugh at her frustration; she can't help herself and starts to laugh with him. "Come on baby, please," she pleads between her giggles.

She feels his hand guiding his hardness into her. He goes just a little bit at a time, drawing himself in and out of her. She moans out another plea and feels him grab her hips and then he thrusts into her full force, all the way, and they both cry out in pleasure. She goes down on her elbows, giving him better and deeper access to her pussy.

He knows how she likes it, hard and deep, and he sets the right tempo. She cries out with each thrust, the quick slap of his balls on her ass drives her crazy and her nipples harden even more as they rub against the sheets. Her breath starts to come in quick rushes; he knows she's going to cum soon.

He reaches down between her legs and twists her clit and she explode into orgasm; her whole body shakes and low moans come deep from her throat. Her arms give completely out and her upper body is supported by the mattress, her ass still high in the air for him. He pumps her several more times, her muscles clenching his dick hard. He takes his dick out and put it between her ass cheeks and she clenches her ass cheeks tight for him. He strokes her ass and lower back with each push of his hips.

She gets back on her elbows and reaches one hand behind her and grabs at the tip of his dick with each thrust. His hips go faster and she knows he will cum soon. "Cum on me baby, cum on me now," she tells him. His breath catches and she feels the hot cum start to land on her ass and up her back; it feels so warm and good. He jerks his hips several more times and then slumps down behind her.

Her arms and legs give out and he falls with her, pinning her legs to the mattress his head pillowed on her ass. They lay there for several long moments catching their breath. He lightly bites her ass checks and then licks up her back, making her shiver the whole way. He nips at her shoulders and she turns her head and look sideways at him. He has a smug little grin. She grins back, and turns over and his mouth lowers to her. As he thrusts his tongue in her she tastes his cum that he licked up from her back. She gives a moan of appreciation and deepens the kiss even more. 

Several seconds later she breaks the kiss off, "I'm glad you got off work early today hon."

He smiles down at her, "The pleasure was all mine."

Feather Me



I walked into the cocktail party regretting yet another social event and completely aware of the eyes upon me. My coworkers seem to think I have a need for a collective life since I favor an absence from this type of function. I immediately noticed his dark eyes, indulging in my champagne satin dress. He focused on my feet, and slowly moved upwards, marveling at my pointed nipples, shown through the thin material. He was ravishing in his black tie attire and dark locks slicked back. My glossy lips parted just enough for him to notice the obvious attention he had of mine. His smile sent chills up my neck and launched an intense throbbing between my legs. He was standing with a group of men and I watched as his vocals moved from businessmen to businessmen. I made my separate way, but soon he would be mine. 

Stockbrokers, traders, and lawyers filled this Manhattan penthouse and after hours of blending in with friends and countless introductions, I knew I had to find the man who taunted my clit with just a smile. I made my way through the dining area, and checked both balconies. He had vanished. I couldn’t take the moisture down below any longer. I knew I had to retreat to my bed and masturbate several times imagining what he’d feel like inside me. I gathered my belongings from the doorman and sent valet in search of my car. I looked up and there he was, helping a lady friend into her car. He turned around and our eyes met again. 

He approached me with a boyish smile just as valet arrived with my car. He took me by the hand and guided me to my door. After helping me in, he ran to the other side and slid into my leather seats as though invited. A smile crossed my face and I threw the shifter into first. Not a word was spoken. 

He peeked down at the sheer nylons that caressed my legs and instinctively led a hand abroad. An impulse. His strong hand glided over my thigh and I knew that it belonged, however was unfamiliar. The uncontrollable desire not to cum overwhelmed me and I held back. I can only imagine of the pre cum that soaked his boxers. He leaned into me and devoured my neck, the wetness matching my tropical domain. He slid his hand down my leg and one by one, while still maintaining a suitable speed, he undressed my feet. A glimpse of a park caught my attention, and I impishly pulled into the dark parking lot and found a cozy spot in the back.

I looked at him with complete seduction in my eyes. Simultaneously, we danced from the car onto the dimly lit playground. He pushed me onto the slide and pulled down the strap to my dress, kissing along my neckline. His body pressed up against mine in the fit of fury, wanting, waiting no longer. I moaned, letting him know what he was doing to me. My breath became stronger and the desire to take control overwhelmed me. Just then, he stopped. “Not here” he said. He led me by the hand as though I were a child. I followed, but must admit, I was disappointed. 

We arrived at his uptown apartment, and what I saw when walking in confused me a bit. It felt as though I walked into a dungeon, but a cozy one. I saw hand restraints hanging from the ceiling, leg/feet restraints coming up from the floor, feathers and other odd objects piled on tables. I’ve never seen such a thing before and was a little scared. He said “have you ever been tickle tortured before?” I thought it was a joke. I turned to leave, and he appeared behind me, wrapping his thick arms around me. “Sshhh, don’t leave. I want you to relax and trust me.” At that point, I wanted to run, however, was interested in where this would go. I walked up to the hand ties falling from the ceiling and opened my mouth to ask what they were for…….I didn’t get that far. As soon as I turned around, he quickly covered my mouth with a heavy tape, almost like duct tape. I was so caught off guard that I didn’t realize that in less than 20 seconds, my hands were enthralled by the restraints. Then he clicked the foot restraints shut. Being unable to move or even speak, I wanted to wet myself. 

The first feather he introduced was a bright purple, ostrich feather. He started at my neck and softly slid the feather down my chest, over my rock hard nipples. Tiny little circles were the motto. I felt my clit throbbing with intensity with every stroke of the feather. The uncontrollable urge of laughter was enticing to me at this point. He then reached for a small matchbox car and drove the car up and down my sides. I couldn’t move. I wanted to break out of the straps and burst with…..hell I don’t know…intensity maybe? He ripped the tape from my mouth and reached for my sides. I screamed as he started tickling the hell out of me bare handed. I begged and pleaded for him to stop, making it clear that I would urinate on myself if he didn’t quit. He continued. I begged him to fuck me, but he would just find another object to torture me with. I screamed with laughter for about an hour before he stopped so I could breathe. 

He knelt down and kissed my clit. His fingers traveling to my, now soaken wet, pussy, he slid two in. My body jerked as I came from so much anticipation. He untied me, and I collapsed to the floor. “That was the best orgasm I had ever had,” I said to him as my body trembled. “By the way, what is your name?” I asked. 

His reply involved two words only……..”Tickle master.” 



Feather Me Ch. 02



He untied me and I collapsed to the floor. "That was the best orgasm I have ever had," I said to him as my body trembled. "By the way, what is your name?" I asked. His reply involved two words only…….."Tickle master." 

I suddenly jumped and my face stung for a slight moment with embarrassment, realizing I was sitting alone at the same boring table, watching the same boring people dance. I had no idea how long I had been daydreaming, or had I actually fallen asleep? At any rate, no one seemed to be paying any attention to me. I must admit to all reading this that I have never thought about being tickled, much less tortured. This daydream came from outer space, however, I could feel my fluid resting inside my nylons and slowly oozing down my leg. I hope it didn't soak onto my dress. A wet daydream perhaps? Damn.

Just when I decided to make my way to the ladies room, I felt a tap on my left shoulder. There he was. The sweat on my hands began accumulating, and my knees grew weak. This man was breathtaking and his beauty made him hard to look at. From the dark silky hair and deep majestic eyes, I'd have guessed Italian, but from his strong physique and manly stature, I'd have guessed Greek. He looked deep into my bright blue eyes and I secretly pinched myself to make sure I wasn't still dreaming. What I saw stirring deep in his eyes was so powerful, so sexy, that I immediately felt my body heat up, my pussy quiver. Suddenly, I was claustrophobic, as though trapped in the artwork of Giorgio de Chirico. Known for the desolate piazza scene of apparent incidentals, such as the train in the distant background. My lips slightly trembled as they parted, waiting for something to happen. 

"So this is the lovely Melanie. Join me for a drink?" I panicked. My heart raced, and I found myself in a spin. Who am I kidding? I am Melanie. I gained control and I stood without another moment's hesitation. 

"And you are?" Placing my soft, delicate hand out for his exposure.

"Kevin. Kevin Andrews." He slid his hand into mine and I now had a craving for his power. He continued "24, unattached, and wanting you."

"Well Kevin Andrews, enough said. I'll follow you." I'm so easy. 

We made our way to the penthouse balcony, stopping at the bar. He ordered a Cognac, straight up, and I, a Manhattan. The balcony was breathtaking and I had to in hale sharply against the night's air. The skies were clear and temperature moderate. We found ourselves alone admiring NYC's skyline. A blissful torment of what's to come. Kevin approached me from behind and slid his arms through mine, where they rest on my stomach. My butt cheeks tingled and I could've taken him right there. He leaned in to kiss my neck and I found myself pinned between him and the barrier. His kisses made there way up and down my neck, and down across my shoulder. He slid the strap of my dress down and began kissing down my arm. My pussy was soaked. I just wanted him to rip my dress off and fuck the hell out of me. My clit throbbed and he taunted me. Fucking tease. Given the right moment and circumstance, he would be at my mercy knowing all about being teased. Until then, he could have his way. He kissed back up my arm until he reached my lips from behind. My neck turned enough for his tongue to slide in next to mine. Yummy. His hands groped at my breasts and mmmmmm, it felt so good. Then out of nowhere we were joined by a group of at least six. Damn. 

We slowly parted trying not to look at though we were about to get it on at a party that could make or break our careers. I felt myself sting the same way I had when I realized I was daydreaming about this very man tickle torturing me. 

Our exit strategy consisted of a quick yet smooth trot to the coat check, out the door to retrieve our cars, and off to his apartment not far away. I welcomed the short time alone while I followed, to gather my thoughts and pull myself together. I couldn't get the thought of him tickling me into submission out of my head. How the hell was I supposed to talk him into that one? Good one Melanie. 

Once inside his apartment, it was obvious he was a bachelor, struggling in the corporate world. My mother would have thought he didn't belong. At any rate, it was an apartment in Manhattan and seemed to have all the accessories. I wasn't complaining. I glanced around and did a quick, but thorough walk through. Then it came to me, like some sort of phenomena. It all seemed so clear now and I knew what I had to do. I went through his apartment gathering different items I'd seen earlier. Kevin, in the meantime was tending to his cat and setting the mood……if you will. Was that Kenny G he just put on? Oh my. I would certainly remedy that. I made my way into the kitchen to observe this God at work, cutting up a pineapple and other various fruits. I approached him from behind and slid the knife from his hand. My hands traced up his torso crossing each and every defined muscle, softly placing his hard nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I felt his body shudder. I was about to have some serious fun with our man Kevin here.

He turned around and aggressively pulled me closer. He had a couple of inches on my 5'6" physique. I liked looking up at him. The kiss was intense and our bodies fled to his bedroom with great eroticism, touching, kissing, licking, feeling, wanting, and doing so with immense pleasure. His cock was rock hard and bulging through his black slacks. We fell onto his bed and I climbed on top of him, untying my hair and letting it fall down around my shoulders. I removed his clothing and left him naked. I had butterflies in my stomach thinking of my plan and wondering if now was the time to implement it. 

"Stay here," I said as I got up. I ripped my nylons off and tore them down the middle of my crotch then tore each half in two. Perfect for a good binding. 

"And that would be for?" Kevin said propping himself up on an elbow. 

"Kevin Andrews, I want you to lye back and relax. I'm going to use this handkerchief to blind fold you, and I don't want to hear another word from you until I begin." I walked up to the bed and grabbed an arm in preparation to tying him to the bed. 

"Ohhh wait sweetheart. I'm not into the whole pain thing I don't mind being blind folded, but being tiiiiiiiii," I cut him off with a nice, wet kiss. 

"Kevin, this may sound trite, but trust that I won't hurt you." He slowly rested himself in the full angle position (with the look of regret on his face) and allowed me to bind him to the bed with the nylons. See ladies, even though they are often uncomfortable, they do have many uses, and this one is by far the best. Once I felt he was securely tied down and the blindfold in place, I walked around the apartment and gathered the rest of what I wanted (including the fruit). I changed the romantic crap (not that I don't dig Kenny G, but come on, I'm not trying to be romantic) and found Type O Negative; Bloody Kisses in is CD collection. I turned the volume up so his neighbors wouldn't hear his cries for help. He He. So far, so good. 

When I returned and saw the sight of Kevin spread eagle, blind folded, and bound (pretty good I might add), a wave of ecstasy spread through me like a lightening bolt. I stood at the end of the bed marveling at the obstacle in front of me. Kevin's breath was slow and I could tell he had relaxed himself. Poor guy. My dress slid to the floor.

I took an orange slice and squeezed the juice onto his toes and my mouth watered as it ran down to the heel of his foot. My warm mouth devoured his big toe sucking and licking the delicious orange juice. One by one I sucked each little piggie dry. I ran my tongue along the sole of his foot and Kevin burst into laughter as his body jumped. 

"Oh, you think that's funny Kevin?" I kissed all around his foot as gentle as possible. His foot wiggled with every kiss.

"Okay, okay. Enough on my feet."

"But that was just one foot Kevin, and if you say another word without my instruction, then I will gag you. And believe me, you will want all of your breath, for the gag will take away some room in your mouth."

"You can't possibly be serious?"

"Try me." I said with a seductive look. He fell silent.

I grabbed a pineapple and began on the other foot, sucking and licking my way around with a craving for each little toe. I smiled at every one of Kevin's giggles while his feet frantically tried to escape the torment. Haha. 

I was satisfied with the fruit, so I poured cooking oil onto both feet. Slow at first, I plunged a Q-tip in and out of each toe. I began going faster and enhanced my area to his entire foot. He laughed and yelled for me to stop.

"STOP!! Oh my god, please STOP!! Melanie, I can't take it. Just come kiss me baby, please?"

I giggled and continued. Tears rolled from his eyes and hit the pillow below his head. His hips were thrusting into the air and his pleads grew louder and louder. The music grew more and more erotic, and I kept going. The louder he laughed, the more I traced each toe with that Q-tip, watching as it slid around in the oil. Faster and faster between his toes then slow across the soles and his feet arched and stretched and twirled in circles. 

I slid my body across his went directly to his mouth. My tongue plunged in next to his and he remembered why I was in his bed. I rocked my body over his and our hips swayed together. I could feel his pre cum that dripped onto his stomach against my belly. I lowered myself down and lapped up all his juices and slid his cock deep in my mouth with one swift motion. Mmmm, this man was delicious. I turned my body around and planted my puss on his mouth. He went to work immediately, licking and sucking on my clit, while my hips grinded to the rhythm of my mouth dancing on his rock hard cock. I could feel the intensity grow and he was quickly working to an orgasm. Our moans were in sync. 

"Baby, I'm gonna cum." Kevin said and I stopped and jumped up.

"Not right now, your not." I got up and went to my pile of goodies.

"Oh, come on." He said with exasperation. I pretended that I didn't hear him. I, too, was close to an orgasm, but I knew I would get mine. "Your not even right Melanie. Your lucky I'm tied up and can't get to you. I can't even see you." Blah blah blah. I went into the restroom and got a rag and then to his pile of clothes and got his tie he'd worn just shortly before. I put a strawberry in his mouth to entice him and he ate it with pleasure. 

"Open up wide for me Kevin, your going to love this." He did so like a faithful servant and I shoved as much of the rag into his mouth and tied the tie around his face. He was gagged in no time and he moaned in protest. "I told you to shut the fuck up unless instructed. You're going to regret this now Kevin. Simplicity is my motto and you couldn't follow simple instructions. In about an hour, I'll take the gag out and we will try again." He looked at me like he was scared all of a sudden. "Kevin, you don't have to be scared, I promised that I wouldn't hurt you. And you being gagged is proof that I keep my word." 

He laid still and I let him catch his breath. Seconds later the half melted ice pierced through the relaxed state he had almost achieved. My fingertips guided the ice up and down his sides and his torso grew with goose bumps. Tasty nipples were rock hard and at my exposure. I took his nipples into my mouth as though they were a steak and I hadn't eaten in days. I straddled him and he let out a light moan when my wet pussy caressed his hard cock. He tried to wiggle enough to slide into me, but I wouldn't allow it. Not yet anyway. I untied the tie and removed the gag with my mouth. My pussy oscillated on his cock, building myself to an orgasm and making him want my hot cunt even more. When I knew it was almost time, I position myself over his mouth and continued grinding in the same manner. My hot cum poured into his mouth and he didn't miss a drop. Oh, it feels so good.

"Ooooo, baby, do you like my cum?"

"Hell yes."

"Wanna fuck me?"

"Yes baby, I wanna fuck you. Sit on my cock baby, come on."

"No."

I got up and walked into the restroom, thinking of my next instrument. How mean. 

"Waaaait, are you leaving? Come at least take this blindfold off. Melanie? Fuck. Meeelllllaaaaaannnniiiiiiieeeeee!"

I took my time in the bathroom and could hear idle moans of protest. I actually thought about curling up on the floor and taking a nap. How heartless. I returned with the electric toothbrush and a little bit of shampoo. The brush swirled around his sides, basted in the shampoo, and Kevin jerked his whole body up and around as much as possible. Damn nylons work good. To hell with the toothbrush, and I used my bare hands to tickle the hell out his hips. He jumped and jumped, not being able to move. I couldn't help but to crack up. Hahahahahaha. I continued this for about 20 long minutes and almost started to feel sorry for him. His stomach muscles looked like they were on the verge of a cramp, so tight and defined, and I believe he hadn't any more tears to spare. 

I let him catch his breath, for the second time, and started sucking his cock again, in and out of my hot mouth, sucking and devouring this 8" solid hunk of meat. He moaned with pleasure and I knew it was time to give in. His hard cock slid in my soaked pussy as I sat backwards on his him. It took only three or four thrusts inside me before I felt a mass explosion of cum fill me up. My pussy throbbed around his manhood. Mmmmm. Holy shit that felt good. I united his arms and feet and lay beside him. Not a word was spoken. The last thing I remember was falling a sleep in his arms wondering how he knew my name at the beginning of the night. 

To be continued.......



Feather Touch



Katherine knew beyond all doubt that she had changed after being Couched On Her Terms. Her first little sampling of being a Domme after all those years as a sub felt beyond fantastic. She knew in real life, the life beyond fantasy, she was still mostly the same devoted, obedient, sacrificing wife she had always been ... mostly. But now there was another side to her, one that could be assertive with her wants and needs, have them honored, and all the while give great joy to herself and to one or more others. After leaving Lee's apartment she had been exhilarated, irrepressibly effervescent, sated completely yet more incurably insatiable. She loved Life, and she loved herself -- something she had to admit she hadn't felt for a long time. 

It wasn't that she liked ordering someone around --that wasn't it at all. If she had had to tell Lee every detail of every request, if she had needed to plan every tiny aspect of that experience, it would have been tedious and totally boring. What made this fun, erotic, and enlivening, was that Lee and she understood each other, so it only took a few words or even just eye contact to explain what she wanted. Even as a Dom, Lee had really enjoyed pleasing her, and it seemed that they both usually got more excited being the witness to and the cause of the other's excitement! Neither was all take and no give, but rather a balanced mix. So it seemed perfectly right for her, Katherine the Sub, to also be at times Katherine the Domme. 

And it had worked!! All the wondering and anxiety of whether Lee would really submit, all the fears of whether she could tell him what to do, especially in his own home, had all evaporated once they began. She couldn't wait to ask him to be her angel again, and thought about him very often in her spare moments. It was odd, though, because she had always wanted him, but ironically for the first time she felt less needy, less insecure about his attention and affection. True, it was still highly unlikely they would ever be full-time lovers, but they had gone deeper, to a stronger place in both of them. 

If he had responded only as a robot, without his spark, his obedience with naughtiness, his ability to take control while still being under her command, she would have stopped it immediately. She didn't want to teach a dog to jump through a hoop, but to know a brilliant, strong man would be willing to use all his knowledge and creativity, all that made him strong, to temporarily but totally serve her. That's what had made it work -- that neither set aside any of what made them powerful, neither one dumbed down for the other. Lee had often expressed that he was more excited by her as she became stronger, more educated, more accomplished in life, because then when she offered herself as a gift to him, the gift was all the more valuable. For the first time she really and truly understood what he meant. The thrill came from the mutual agreement of two "highly marketable" people, as employees and friends and lovers, that was never forced, never demanded, never cheapened. How could she have known how very much more fulfilling this could be than the "sit, stay, roll over" barked orders she had often read about in BDSM stories?

Without a doubt she was a new woman, and no matter how long it might be before she could again be in the Domme role, no matter how many times or how deeply she was a sub as a wife and/or lover, she would be ready for the next time. 

Thinking it might never happen, Katherine was delighted when the opportunity came, even though it was indeed a long wait for her. How often she had envisioned it all, brought herself to orgasm so easily with the memories of the last time and anticipating this time. Her only fear was that she might have to masturbate in the car just before seeing Lee again because every time she thought of what would happen she got deliciously, achingly excited. Of all the problems to have, being too horny didn't seem to bother anyone at all, particularly her.

She had emailed Lee a few days beforehand with some small requests, a few little purchases -- nothing to put any strain on him, but just enough to show he also took efforts in advance for their precious time together, that he really meant to serve her. There was the practical side, too -- she wasn't in much position to do shopping when she was lucky just to get a couple hours to be with him. Other than that email, she made no preparations other than in her mind; she dressed normally, with all regular undergarments, and nothing "sexy" in her attire or mannerisms. If only she could stop from creaming and smiling like she owned the world. Well, perhaps she did, in a small way.

This time she didn't pause at all when she strode up the stairs to Lee's apartment, in fact she seemed to glide to the top effortlessly, too thrilled at being there to admit to herself the time it took to reach his door. Of course, he was there to open the door for her, and he closed it again behind her. As before, they looked for a few moments into each other's eyes with that silly grin possessing them. She didn't say anything but took the one step needed to reach him and gently but passionately enveloped him in her arms, their deep kiss a nearly reverent joy of reunion and memories. She wanted him so very much, longed to take him there in the hallway, to treat him to all the pleasure he deserved from a sub. But that wasn't the agreement this time. Instead, she managed to stop kissing him long enough to ask in a barely audible but impassioned tone, "Will you be my angel tonight?"

In a surprise twist, he picked her up enough to push her up against the wall, pinning her totally with the full weight of his body. Her toes were practically off the ground as his pelvis kept her immobile while he pulled her wrists with one hand over her head as far as they would go, and with the other ravished her tits as he nibbled and bit and sucked and licked her neck and face. He was so hard, so ready for her, and she realized that he, too, wanted desperately to skip all the plans and fuck her right there and then. His nearly violent passion began to frighten her, yet when he reached from her breast to her pulsing pussy, rubbing it hard and with ownership, she came so intensely, screaming her orgasm into his mouth as he pushed his tongue almost to her throat and basically fucked her mouth as he rubbed her through a long climax. She was glad to be pinned against the wall because she knew she couldn't stand immediately afterward. He had taken her, brought her to orgasm so fast, so dramatically, that when it was over she could scarcely realize that it had even begun. 

His attitude changed, even though his fiery lust was burning throughout him. Almost as if none of that had happened, he pulled her away from the wall, supported her gently as one would hold a highly prized and delicate object, and caught her gaze. Shaken still from the massive orgasm, it took her a few seconds to focus on his eyes, but when she did there was a smile in them, his lust under control, and she understood. Lee had not only released her almost too intense passion so she could be a Domme with a clearer head, he had also reasserted that he was a very dominant, physically powerful man, so by contrast his submission to her would be all the more apparent. After all his years as a Dom, he showed her that he still was one, had not gone weak in any way. As her smile grew in recognition of this, and Lee's grin broadened in acknowledgement, he looked her steadily in the eyes, released his grip on her, clasped his hands behind his back, and sweetly replied, "Yes, Ma'am." 

Katherine for several moments couldn't move, or think, or make a sound, and all that time her undeniably masculine angel waited patiently. She snapped out of her daze, leaned forward to kiss him lightly, and managed to articulate, "I'm so glad." Fully herself now, the self-possessed woman who walked through the door only a few minutes before, she asked if he had gotten all the things on the list and had made the simple arrangements she had requested. His humble affirmative nearly melted her resolve, but she stood taller and became the queen she wanted to be. 

"Please pour champagne for both of us and prepare my bath." In moments she heard the muffled pop of the champagne cork expertly removed, and her angel appeared with two fluted glasses on a tray with the opened bottle. She was in the bedroom adjacent to the bathroom, so he set it on a nightstand, poured out two glassfuls, handed her one, then disappeared into the bathroom. She heard the water running and soon noticed the aroma from scented bath salts dissolving in the warm water. She had nearly forgotten about the glass in her hand until he returned and picked up his. The quietly toasted each other, clinked the glasses together, and sipped the champagne. Immediately, before examining the bottle, she realized he had gotten the special-order Korbel Le Premier, her favorite champagne. She was already in heaven and the night had hardly begun. 

She set her drink down, indicated for him to continue drinking if he wished, and slowly strip-teased for him. Her non-sexy clothes seemed to become the silk veils of a harem dancer the way she sensuously teased them off. Just before revealing her nipples or ass, she would stop to get a sip or two of champagne. She slithered out of her panties with her back to him, so when she turned around she would be entirely naked while he remained in his normal clothes. A quick hug, a few big sips, and she walked to the bathroom, stepping gingerly into the just hot enough water.

He soon followed, kneeled on the thick bath rug, pushed up his sleeves, and turned off the water for her. Katherine instructed him that he should bathe her well and thoroughly, but that he was not to touch her skin with his, not yet. So he slid on the exfoliating bath gloves she had requested, and gently washed her back first so she could then lie back in the sweet smelling water. He then very tenderly caressed her face with the sudsy gloves, being sure to get behind her ears and all along her neck. With infinite care he rinsed her face, taking extra precautions not to get any suds or water in her eyes, caressing her skin with a soft washcloth in a way that felt to her more dear than any other touch. She sat up while he massaged her scalp with shampoo, gently washing her medium-length wavy hair while still wearing the gloves, then rinsing her off using a small pitcher to better control the flow of water. With her head still tilted back he drizzled water onto her chest, especially her nipples, explaining with a wry grin that he would wash there next. His hands touched her so lightly all over that with the gloves on she felt like a canvas being painted by an artiste. While cleaning her, he delicately massaged her, both relaxing and exciting her with his slow and controlled methods. He cleaned every inch of her with reverence and fascination, either at what he was doing or how she responded to it. The only place she forbade his touch was her most delicate areas where the gloves would be too abrasive. Those she washed herself, using extra soap for ample suds, rubbing around her pussy and between the lips slowly and luxuriously, saving her aroused clit for last. She stopped when her breathing became too husky, then she turned over and slowly soaped her ass, again with far more soap than needed, but enough to allow her to easily slip first one finger, then two, inside and to stroke herself several times, under the attentive watch of her aroused angel. 

After a quick rinse she stood and showered off the rest of the soap as the tub drained. Using a huge fluffy towel, he patted her dry in a respectful manner, and when he reached her feet, set one at a time on the edge of the tub, he gave them a quick massage through the towel. The thick cloth around her like an oversized toga, he led her to the bed and poured her another glass of champagne. She asked him to enjoy a shower, too, adding a wink that clearly indicated it would be in his best interest. How wonderful she felt with her extra softened, clean body, ever so slightly buzzed from the champagne and her passion, and to hear Lee doing a simple thing like taking a shower. In all the years she had never been able to have that pleasure, so she savored this perhaps silly joy as much as the champagne. 

When he emerged, a bit damp but otherwise dry, and with a towel wrapped modestly around his waist, she told him she wanted him to get dressed in his nicest suit, or even a tux if he had one. A quick flash of confusion ran across his face, but the hardly perceptible shrug of his shoulders clearly stated that it seemed a fair request, albeit an odd and unexpected one, so he did it. Katherine was thrilled to watch him dress up for her. In a far distant thought she wondered how super it would be to dress up with him for a formal event, and the fun of sex before and after, with teasing throughout the event. For now, he would be her butler, her Cary Grant-like treasured saintly servant. 

When he finished dressing, with all the accessories down to the cuff links, she was stunned at how beautiful he was, how awe-inspiring. Clothes don't make the man, but they can certainly accent him. Even more she knew what a gift this evening was, how precious his submission to her was, and how she would be sure to honor him as best she could ... while still doing what she wanted, of course. Katherine dropped her towel on the ground and walked to him, enjoying immensely the thrill of his tall rugged body enhanced by the tux, while she was completely unadorned and nude, all the more petite and seemingly fragile. But despite appearances she felt the more potent because of her nakedness, and he was more her submissive for his attire that exposed only his hands and head. The freedom she felt was glorious, and she wanted to jump upon his and smother him with sex, but the suit stopped her, reminded her of her plans. Instead she leaned toward him, he leaned down, and they kissed almost politely as one would in a reception line.

Empowered, she returned to the bed, and after another sip of champagne, stretched out on the thick fleece blanket. "Please light the candles then turn out all the other lights," she said. She had requested at least six candles, and there had to be perhaps a dozen of varying sizes, some scented but never in conflicting ways. "Were you able to find a small peacock feather?" He showed her three to choose from, and she selected the one that seemed the softest yet firm. 

"I want you to feather touch me all over my body. (Oh, please feel free to have some champagne while I describe this.) The idea is for you to reveal the sensuality in every part of me, to awaken my senses with the infinitesimal not-quite-tickle of the feather tips. It will be your paint brush of a sort, and with it you will draw across all my nerve endings the picture of erotic desire. At no time is any portion of you, or your clothes, or your breath to touch me, but for at least fifteen minutes I will feel you, your touch, your passion, through your caresses with the feather. Touch every part of me, from between my toes to my forehead, but only the external part of my pussy. I want you to possess me with only a hint of a touch and without penetration. If you touch me directly, or you do this very poorly, clumsily, I'll have you stop, step back for a moment or two while I let my frustration and irritation recede. Obviously, I don't want that to happen; I want to escape into the sensation you provide without interruption, your feather's touch as one continuous line traced everywhere on me. Do you have any questions? Do you think you can do this? ... Excellent. Let's finish these glasses of champagne, then begin once I'm settled." 

Katherine doubted she'd often need to give such instruction to Lee since he was so quick to comprehend, but she didn't want any misunderstanding, not just for her pleasure but to help him to be successful in what she asked of him. She had no desire to punish him, and her, by stopping the feeling for even a moment. She saw in his eyes more than heard in his "Yes, Ma'am" that he understood not just what she wanted but why. A fresh bit of champagne in her, she confidently nuzzled her small, nude body onto the fleece, squirming a bit in delight and to find just the perfect position. When she was still for a while, looking away from him, her angel began his task.

She felt the tip of the feather rest on her lower back and stay there for a moment or two. She smiled knowing that his strength and control would allow him to move that feather precisely as he wanted and to the best effect. With even just this tiny touch, she couldn't hold back a quiet sigh of total contentment. He allowed a bit more of the feather to rest on her skin before gliding it straight up her spine, and more slowly back down. He then dripped it down between her ass cheeks, surprising her with his quick boldness as a few feather tips tickled her pussy, but he didn't let it stay there at all and instead slid it up to the small of her back again. His timing always varied slightly, and he never maintained a predictable pattern, so she was constantly mentally on high alert for what might be next. After tracing up her spine he wiggled it down the left side of her back, then almost avoiding her ass he then sent it all the way down her right leg to the sole of her foot. He added a bit more pressure there so it was stimulating not annoyingly tickling. Somehow he sort of bounced the feather up her inner leg, not letting it ever lose contact with her skin, but alternating the gentle force of it on her. He stroked back and forth across her ass, her hips slightly gyrating in response to the exquisite sensations. 

Ever so quickly he traced up the right side of her torso then lingered along her right arm, caressing the underside, the elbow, the forearm, and teasing the hand into turning over to receive more. He pulled the entire feather between each finger, and with the last continued that touch up her arm to her shoulder. Back down he zigzagged it extra slowly, only dancing over the hand this time, before making little circles along the full length of the upper part of her arm. At the neck he stroked her under the chin, causing her to smile and lift her head to expose more of her neck. The thought crossed her mind that she wished he'd just bite it, just once, but she knew he wouldn't, not yet ... still, the thought made her enjoy the feeling all the more. It felt most odd to her when it traced her face, and she noticed happily that the feather was free of dust or unpleasant scent; in fact it was somewhat exotic, something she wanted to discover again, but for now the feather wandered along her hairline at the back of her neck. To do so Lee had to slightly move her hair out of the way, but she felt this to be not a violation at all but an extra consideration -- so she wouldn't have to move her hair, nor lose his touch there if she didn't. How wonderfully thoughtful.

Down her left arm the pleasure seemed to spiral, but since her hand was near her body, he took the feather from her left thumb directly to her hip, removing again any complacency and replacing it with greater attention to his actions. Brushed across her lower back, then returning along the base of her ass, he then worked the feather down the left leg in triangles of varying sizes and shapes. As ever, the timing stayed inconstant, even within a single triangle. He caressed her left foot in a way that felt very much like a tongue, but yet she knew it wasn't because she heard his breath far from her feet. He must have practiced or studied for this, she contemplated, further imagining schools for feather touch with him as its master. Soon the length and breadth of the feather lapped up her leg, back and forth in a broad sweeping motion. Between her thighs he made it act like a marionette with a mission, making her spread her legs farther apart to discover just what that mission might be. Just when all of her every thought was focused on her pussy, the feather split her ass cheeks briefly before modestly tending to her back. A groan escaped her, but she loved him for his ability to tease her, to raise her to awareness and heights she could never imagine before and never forget after. 




Feather Touch



Suddenly his breath was in her hair and his voice amazingly close to her ear. He paused only to take a breath before whispering, "Are you ready to turn over now, Ma'am?" Katherine couldn't answer at first because she was trying to figure out how he had gotten so close without her noticing. She answered by turning over, lazily, smiling in pure delight, and looked into Lee's eyes. She had forgotten how sweet they could be, and she saw his body filling his tux as if for the first time because she had almost completely forgotten there was more to him than the tip of the feather making love to her body. At first this thought embarrassed and shamed her, then she realized what a total compliment it was to him, how totally effective he had been. She knew if she kept her eyes open she would soon beg for him to kiss her, to take her, and besides then she would see what he was doing and how, might anticipate his next move, and she preferred to be surprised. To prevent her from reflexively opening her eyes, she asked him to get the biggest, softest blindfold and to put it on her. To do so, he set the feather down so it still rested on her skin, across her stomach. Being the master of a master ... what an insane thrill, she pondered. He paused just long enough for her to catch his gaze again, and when she did he smiled and winked at her. Her grinned beamed from her as he carefully placed the blindfold on her, again doing so without ever touching her except for just a bit of her hair, which was to be expected. She settled in for more delight. 

The feather alighted from her stomach and the length of it brushed up and down her torso, making her feel for a moment like a car going through a car wash for it moved in much the same ways. In the same manner it floated over her hips and pussy, down her legs and over her feet, still somewhat close together. It slalomed back and forth through the toes of her left foot, and by allowing one end to rest on her right foot before the other end lifted off the left, he switched immediately to the other foot. This time the feather cut between her toes back and forth as neatly as he would slice vegetables. The feather would dip down to the sole of her foot at times, but not each time. More quickly he traced up her right leg with the tip of the feather and hovered around the inner portion of her upper thighs, alternating between the two legs. The feather went flat against her pussy like a giant tongue, and licked her up and down, side to side, making her spread her legs as far as she could, nearly into the full splits, just to feel that feather on her pussy, ass and thighs. He made her so hot, so wet, and so easily. Clearly this amused him for he continued to experiment with the feather in only that area. Eventually he stroked her chest with it, and circled around her breasts, somehow avoiding the nipples till she was physically aching for it. She couldn't take any more of this.

"Stop," she all but cried. Katherine could imagine her angel's expression of bewilderment because he had done nothing wrong at all. "Put the feather over on the table then come back." Still blindfolded she listened for his movements before explaining the new rules. "Your feather touch is to continue with a slight change. Your hands still can't touch me, but your breath and tips of your lips may. You may touch me that way in any way you wish and anywhere, and if you wish me to turn over I'm sure you'll find a way to let me know without your hands or voice. Will you do that for me?" After a few moments pause, during which time she could not imagine his thoughts, he gave her in reply a slow series of butterfly kisses -- right on her pussy, making her spread her legs all the more and moan with pleasure. Over her clit he blew softly, then rested over her delightful opening breathing in her scent and out the strength of his lust. Without a touch she felt he was somehow inside her, filling her and fucking her. How did he do that? She didn't care, only wanted it to continue because she was incredibly hot for him. He kissed the crease of her thigh by her pussy, then the alternate leg at the crease at her ass. She really hadn't expected him to focus so quickly on her sex, but she was not about to object. After all the feather touching, his breath and lightest kisses inflamed her more radically then she ever suspected. She had known it would heighten her reactions, but this was far beyond anything she could imagine. She bucked her hips whenever she could sense his lips or breath anywhere close to her pussy. So quickly she was moaning and groaning, begging with her body for his attention.

Nothing happened but her squirming for a moment, then she noticed the sweetest lips almost on her left nipple; she knew he was there and yet he didn't seem to be breathing or touching her. When he lowered his head that micro distance to cause his lips to contact her nipple, he let his lips lightly surround it but didn't suck it or lick it, only lightly kissed it. She was sure she'd go mad and begin imagining his touch ever where it wasn't, and though it wasn't madness that is what happened. Perhaps he waved his hand over her pussy to create a slight air movement that made her think he would kiss her there, but his breath, immediately followed by the subtlest of kisses, might appear on the ball of her foot, her belly, or her fingertip. She was amazed that his lips could appear on her cheek without her sensing anything before, and he'd often rest his lips somewhere, immobile, freezing her into stillness so she wouldn't lose his skin contact. He blew from her breasts to just above her pussy, where he stopped. How was it possible that he didn't touch her when she started thrashing around to reach him? 

She calmed herself through pure will power, and because he hadn't touched her in any way for several moments. When he did, his lips were exactly on her clit, and with that tiniest of touches, barely the impact of a rose petal falling on snowy ground, she exploded into a massive, body-tingling, finger-numbing, time-stopping orgasm that threw her all over the bed. She felt as if she had received an electric shock, and as it subsided his lips found her nipple, and naughtily so did the tip of his tongue for the briefest moment. That bit of surprise, that extra touch, reignited her climax, and her cries of passion went beyond husky to borderline hoarse from the intensity of her breathing. 

She ripped the blindfold off and threw it across the room so she could see again her executioner by orgasm. By the time her eyes had adjusted to even the subdued light from the candles, he had stood up tall and had an extremely proud and radiant smile. He knew the pleasure he had given her and exalted in the conviction of his abilities to arouse her passions. His expression increased her need for him, because he was right; he could thrill her so magnificently. She stood and pressed her panting, hot, aroused body against his and kissed him almost madly. She needed him -- this was beyond want, beyond desire.

"Undress and join me on the bed." He smiled as if he had won, which, in truth, he had, so in victory he took a little longer than needed to undress, dawdled a bit in hanging up his clothes just right, in putting everything away in the exact spot. Katherine was too filled with lust to be infuriated, needed him too much to delay him further by saying anything about it, so she waited, fidgeting on the bed, every nerve of her body calling for him. When nude, Lee stood by the bed, letting her look at him in full, his erection prominent and his strong body clearly able to take her in so many positions. He reached down with his fingertip to remove a drop of pre-cum from his cock, making her crave that, too. Then he sat demurely on the corner of the bed. 

She could wait no longer. "Touch me any way you want; fill me and fuck me as you please; pin me against the wall or throw me on the floor; make love to me or use me as your sex toy; but no matter what or how you do it, TAKE ME NOW!!" With that proclamation she reached across, grabbed him around his neck, and with all her might pulled him on top of her. His weight on her, the presence of him all over her body at once, shot her into orgasms that pounded her up against him. She grabbed his back, his neck, his hair, anything she could reach to pull him more deeply on to her. He accepted it but didn't "take her" as she expected, and when she mellowed after her long climax, she was actually angry that he didn't seem to want her, that he wasn't over the top dying for raw sex. 

In her fury from her needs rebuffed, even though he had just sent her over the edge, she avoided his eyes, but once she did catch his gaze, she saw a different smile, a tender one that was no less filled with lust but more controlled. He had such power over her, for in that instant her anger vanished and she was instead filled with contentment and appreciation. When he saw her smile, he held her face in his hands and kissed her in a calm, tender, yet not to be refused way. He kissed her face and down her neck, using his lips, tongue, hands and body to melt her, not only her resistance but any thought of existence beyond his touch. His hands found her breasts and explored them, massaged and claimed them, forcing increasing sighs of bliss from her. Kissing down her stomach he reached around to the back and put his hands on her ass, grabbing them roughly. When his lips reached her pussy, he scooted down and spread her ass, then immediately began licking her with slow full tongue strokes all over her pussy and ass. She lost her mind in her climax, her body so overwhelmed by this touch and her legs pinned under his, his skill and his power to please her, she barely moved anything but her head, that rocked back and forth in disbelieving ecstasy, and her arms that flailed randomly. If this was insanity, she somehow thought, I want it. 

She had forgotten that her body could even be entered because this external touch alone was incredible, so when he gently and slowly pushed his finger into her she no longer had words to think in, just sensation to happily drown in. His finger all the way inside her and his tongue simply against her clit, her orgasms flowed together unidentifiably. When he licked, or wiggled his finger, or added another inside her, the tsunamis crashed again driving her even farther into climax, farther than she thought someone could go and still live to tell about it. She no longer cared if she lived, only that he continue. His full hands massaged her ass then explored with ownership every part of her, including the soles of her feet that had become erogenous zones too. No part of her was free from providing sexual excitement; everywhere he touched and in seemingly any way kept her at a peak of arousal. She was beyond the ability to beg, all she knew was that she wanted him even more. 

He let her passion subside, a little, when he pulled his fingers out and removed his mouth from her pussy. She felt adrift without him there, but he continued to rub his hands over her, and for a moment he held both her wrists tightly against the bed to remind her that he was taking her in the ways he wanted, as she had instructed. He took none of her authority away by increasing his dominance over her, but instead did this to please her, to take her even higher by removing her need to control this last part, to let her completely let go as he held her more tightly. In that position, fully immobilizing her, he suckled her tits, sucked them hard, licked them softly, bit her nipples then kissed her all over her chest. He moved her head to the far side, then bit quite hard, though not in a way to bruise, the muscles at the base of her neck then up the back of it, claiming her the way male animals have done to females for millennia, and she responded with docile readiness as female animals have done for millennia. 

How he could still think rationally she had no clue, but he reached over to open a condom package and slid it on before she even registered what he was doing. She was glad he had done that, taken the necessary precautions, because just then she didn't care about anything beyond that moment. Despite his weight and force on her, she had wiggled and squirmed, not to escape, but in purely reflexive lust. He stopped moving and caught her gaze again, and in that moment she saw more deeply into his eyes, observing an indescribable something in him she had never noticed but that was of incredible beauty and power. In that moment also his cock touched the opening to her pussy. She gasped and fought for enough control to avoid bucking him away, and her effort was rewarded by his gradual but persistent entry. Her orgasms assaulted her, leaving her breathless, without a heartbeat, or so it seemed. Every second was an eternity of insane pleasure, and when fully inside her and he started to retreat and attack her most aroused area, her climaxes never stopped, she know longer even could think what they were, only that it was wonderful in the most absolute and complete sense of the word. 

Lee fucked her, possessed her, claimed her, honored her, and finally let himself lose control with her when the unavoidable passion began to overtake him. He was overwhelmed by the intensisty he had arisen in Katherine, by her responsiveness to him, by the unique excitement of following her lead until her lust had taken her far beyond the ability to command anything. He had been fighting his hunger for her as long as he could, but when he entered her, when her body was fully below him and he could feel every quiver of her orgasms, when the connection to and excitement from her became too powerful even for him, he gave in to all the sensations demanding his attention. His fucking grew more urgent, more aggressive as he neared climax. A tightness and pressure grew in him that had to be sated. The climaxing woman insane with delight was because of him and for him, and that sent him bucking into her, almost fighting against her to fuck her with all he had, to come inside her as he had wanted to do all night. He grunted, moaned, and broke into a heavy sweat as he climaxed, his whole body pulsing to the beat of his ejaculations, which lasted far longer than he expected. The aftershocks convulsed him for minutes afterward, often sending her into another orgasm. 

He gradually collapsed on top of her as she dissolved beneath him. His full weight on her felt reassuring and welcoming, even though it made breathing a bit more difficult. But then again, after all she had gone through, breathing under him was easy. She hoped he would fall asleep just like that, connected in her, fully in contact with her, with only her body between him and the bed in which he always slept. He did nap for a few minutes that he never realized, minutes that she savored because they helped her regain her memories of all that had happened, to piece it together and understand it, engrave it more firmly in her mind before the crass "real world" intruded. 

When Lee finally awoke and struggled off the bed, Katherine wondered seriously if she actually could get up, could walk, could drive. He helped her to stand, and for a moment they held each other like two exhausted shipwreck victims who finally reached land. As reality returned to each of their thoughts, they didn't speak but instead cleaned up and dressed in contented, understanding silence. Seeing a little champagne left, they emptied the bottle with just enough for one last small drink. With sex-drunk smiles, they sobered with the champagne. Quietly they kissed again, their passion spent but their friendship intact. He walked her to the front door, and with only a quick glance back she walked out, then carefully descended the stairs to the planet Earth that for a few hours she had left.



Feathered Dream



She awoke with a start when she felt the bed sink slightly as if someone had joined her on it. "Who the hell are you?!" she yelled fumbling on the nightstand for the phone. Then she heard him for the first time, a voice deep and velvety that wrapped around her like the night itself. 

"Shh, I mean you no harm. You have called for me over the past months, I have heard your plea getting louder tearing at my soul. I had to come to you, it was getting to be pure torture." 

She strained her eyes in the darkness to see this man sitting on her bed. "Please if you mean me no harm turn on the lights so I may see who you are." she whispered feeling in the pit of her stomach as if she already knew who it was. 

The bed springs creaked as the stranger lifted himself and crossed the room to the light switch. Once the lights came on she gasped. There stood before her the most startling handsome man she had ever seen clad only in a feathered cloak. "Now do you know who I am? " he questioned softly. "You are.. you are the man I have dreamed of over and over again these past months, but this isn't who you really are.... this isn't what you look like in my dreams. Show yourself... show me who I dream of, tell me who you are, I am begging you" all fear gone in her voice replaced with pure need. 

The air around him shimmered with energy and revealed his true self. Her eyes drank in the sight of her lover, the one who had ignited this fire in her that consumed her every night and haunted her days. He was well over six feet tall with wings the color of coal that shined with a red incandescence which stood much taller than himself and spread to fill the room, his body was lean and muscular, his hair was a cascade of spun copper down his back held off his face by a pair of obsidian horns that curved and curled back like a ram's. But truly his face was the most striking thing of all. His mouth was hard but with the most perfect lips she had ever seen, his nose was straight and in perfect balance with his features, and his eyes... his eyes were filled with a fire that burned for her alone in their emerald depths, and the longer she stared at them the more colors she saw in a perfect blend that kept the color ever shifting from gold to sapphire to emerald, but always the held the same passion , the same love, the same want and the same hunger that was reflected in hers. The smell of her dreams filled the air of her room, roses, jasmine, and sandalwood blended perfectly. Trembling she reached for him and breathily whispered, "It is you, you are real.. please tell me your name?" 

"My name is unimportant for I have had so many, I am as ageless as time, I have lived so long waiting for you, waiting to find my love. You have finally called for me and ever your servant I have come to you" his voice echoed in her ears. 

She reached out and cupped his face with her hand, her slender fingers gently tracing his cheek then his mouth. Deftly he brought his mouth down hard on her soft full lipped one and crushed her to his body in a kiss that held all the love and need that they shared, his tongue gently tracing then parting her lips to explore her warm waiting mouth. Finally he broke the kiss and stared at her. "You are even more beautiful with the flush of passion to warm your ivory skin, your mouth looks so tempting swollen and moist" he whispered to her as he stared at her face then her heaving chest, narrow waist and full hips. He ran his hands through her flame red hair and gently this time brought her face to his again to share an sweet soulful kiss. 

He brought his hand to her shoulder and slowly slid the thin silk strap of her night gown off of her shoulder. He kissed her tender neck down to her shoulder, everywhere his lips touched her she felt as if a flame had been lighted. Softly he whispered to her, so softly she scarcely heard him, "Let me love you, never have I had a fire burn within my heart so, never have I been so besot with need and want. I need you like I never needed anything" The last part came out hoarsely and wrought with emotion. He clung to her as if if he let her go he would be lost forever. Gently she cupped his face and lifted it to look in his eyes as her cobalt eyes met his, she kissed his mouth so lightly he could barely feel her lips, then she whispered, " My darling, you are all I have ever needed and all I ever wanted, wished for, and waited so long to find. You are who I have waited all my life for. All I ever hoped for and without you I would surely die of this need I feel for only you." 

He lifted her off of her feet, held her close to his body and wrapped those magnificent wings around the both off them closing off everything but the two of them together in a warm embrace. Finally he set her down on the bed, and softly pushed her onto her back. He lifted one foot to his chest and kissed the top of each of her dainty toes before kissing her instep, then her ankle, sliding a kiss up her calf and dropping a kiss softly on to her knee. He lightly kissed the tender inner part of her thigh while he ran his fingers along the outer part and he felt her shiver under his touch. He raised his eyes to meet hers and saw she had them tightly shut. "Open your eyes my dearest" he asked quietly. She shook her head violently and whispered "Every time I open my eyes you are gone and I am awake again and it was all just a dream" 

"I am very real my love and here now, please open your beautiful eyes,"he begged. Slowly she opened one eye and when he was still there she opened the other. "You are here"was all he could make out. He leaned back and while looking in her eyes kissed each of her toes on the other foot, her soft instep, her delicate ankle, her firm calf, her knee and then he dropped his eyes and kissed her creamy inner thigh and ran his fingers up to the hem of her nightgown. Slowly he pushed the hem higher and kissed more and more of her thigh, listening to her breathy little sighs and moans. Lightly he brushed his hand over her panty cover mound before lowering his mouth to breathe hot air over her silk covered jewel. His other hand had found it's way to the band of her panty and deftly tore first one side then the other before pulling the scrap of fabric down to expose her soft curls of amber. Heavily he blew warm air over them and heard her whimper loudly, he kissed either side of her hips and down to that tender spot where her legs meet her body and everywhere but where she wanted it the most, until finally she cried out the word he most longed to hear from her "Please!"

At that melodious cry, he dropped a kiss on top of her moist curls and breathed deeply her perfume. As he explored her with his mouth his finger gently separated her hot flower. His tongue then caressed her petals savoring her nectar before he let his tongue dance across her tender bud. At this she moaned loudly whimpering and begging him for more. He teased her with his tongue before gently sliding one finger in to her hot confines, again she cried out louder this time her voice on the verge of tears. This only encouraged him, as he worked his finger in and out of her his tongue circled and teased her poor bud till she was crying for release. His finger reached a fevered pitch as he lapped harder at her clit and he sent her over the edge. She wrapped her hands up into fisted balled in the sheets and squeezed her eyes tightly shut while she bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. When it was over she lay there limply from having passed out from the sheer intensity of what he had done. He stood over her drinking in her beauty before gently rustling his wings and brushing her cheek with the tip of one. She stirred slightly and he traced the line of her cheek with one of his fingers. 

When she opened her eyes and saw he was still there, she bolted upright and clung to him as if her life depended on it. "Thank you, thank you" she kept murmuring over and over. Gently he kissed her barely grazing her lips with his teeth. "It was entirely my pleasure, my love." he rasped. Her hand snaked down his firm chest, over his washboard stomach and traced circles on his lined thighs. "Let me... return the favor? " she whispered into his mane of hair. He shuddered as her small hand skipped over the top of his head. Mutely he nodded and she kissed his neck, nipped his ear lobe, nibbled his shoulder before swirling her tongue over one of his dark rose nipples. At this he moaned deeply and she kissed his flat stomach, tracing each of his six pack with her moist little pink tongue, before nuzzling the trail of hair that led from his belly button to his manhood. 

All of his muscles tensed as she lightly drew her hand across his crotch. Slowly she lifted her head slightly to blow warm air across the tip of his manhood, before flicking her tongue across it. He shuddered at the touch of her tongue startling her, "Did I hurt you?" she asked voice full of concern. He just shook his head and trembled waiting for her touch. Smiling devilishly she engulfed him in her mouth in one felt swoop, drawing a low moan from his lips. Then she took her mouth completely off of him and swirled just her pointed pink tongue over his head before wrapping her full lips around the head and sucking gently. Slowly inch by inch she let him slid into her waiting mouth and then she quickly bobbed her head up and down before letting it all slid out but the tip. He growled deeply in his throat causing her to look up at him. While her eyes were locked with his she licked up and down the shaft and licked lightly the with more pressure over the head while her fingers played with his sack. Finally she let him slide all the way back into her throat and she purred and bounced her head up and down on him, until he grabbed her and threw her on the bed unfolding his wings completely. 

"Teasing wench, I will have you" he growled. Then he kissed her hard while he parted her thighs and took his place between them. Deepening the kiss, he bent his wings so they touched the bed on either side of them and let one hand gently knead her ample chest whilst the other hand rolled her nipple between his fingers, slowly he started to enter her for the first time. She whimpered loudly into his mouth and he pinched her nipple harder as he hit her maidenhead. His eyes flew open and he stared down at her, breaking their kiss, he whispered with a voice wrought with want, "Are you sure?" 

Instead of answering him she bucked her hips up hard against him and bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut to try to stop the tears from coming. He held her tightly in her arms kissing her face and neck waiting for her to be ready to go on, murmuring how much he loved her between kisses. Finally he felt her slowly move beneath him and gently he started to pull out of her. Then he slowly pushed back in , steadily the pace picked up with her pushing up to meet his every thrust. Faster and harder they went both needing release, both clinging to each other for dear life. She started to feel pressure building and building screaming for release, she felt him grow harder and harder in her. 

He bite her shoulder, growled her name, and held on to as if his existence depended on her as he released his seed deep into her. As soon as he bite her and she heard his growl, the pressure that had been building in her exploded and shatter everything she saw into a thousand shimmering lights and she dug her nails into his back and cried out her release. He felt her tighten around him milking him and he shuddered and collapsed on to her. They lay there together intertwined as one for the longest time, just holding each other neither saying a word until they started to fall asleep. They disentangled themselves, and he folded his wings onto his back and laid on his stomach next to her, pulling her close with one arm and kissing the back of her neck. She sighed softly and fell asleep almost immediately feeling safe and secure. He spread one of his wings over her like a blanket and watched her sleep. 

In the morning she woke up cold and alone on her bed and she almost started to cry before she saw a single black-red feather next to her pillow and a note in the most beautiful handwriting. It said: 

Although the daylight hours separate us for now, 

Night quickly approaches and I will return to you, 

My one true love, my life, my true mate. 

Till the future all I can leave is a token of my love



Feathering Berry



Monday: 3:15 PM

The woman arrived promptly at noon. I hired a taxi to collect her from the station. The morning train from New York is usually a half an hour late, but today it was bang on time. I pray this is a portent that all will go as planned…at least as I have planned. As for the young lady…well, I won't anticipate. I shall note these events in the manner of history, the grandfather of all illusions, from A to B to C.

I am an artisan whose fetish is crafting words. I conjure fleshly pictures in my mind and transform them into inky scrawls on a blank page. My domain is hunger - the ravening hunger of desire, the agony of ecstasy. Fortunately, my talent as an avant-garde author has offered many unique rewards, including some small degree of fame. 

Most recently this renown has garnered me a "sui generis" grant from the Knack Fund - the only institution bold enough to unleash my roiling chronicles on the readers of the world. This financial windfall ($50,000) has given me the opportunity to pursue my masterwork, a prose poem that celebrates the jewel of feminine anatomy: the female lair, the ledge of pleasure and despair - the sleek and glorious pussy. The drafting of this magnum opus, titled Whet the Posy, begins today. Yes starting today I shall live this dream, with eyes wide open, to make it happen!

My first step was to rent a retreat many miles away from other humans, as the brew of my invention ferments best when in seclusion. After a tiresome search, I finally found an old converted barn in the midst of seventy-five acres of knotty forest. This house rivals those in the darkest tales of the brothers Grimm! 

Acquiring the woman, the model, the kindling for my flame, was my second step. I advertised in numerous artistic journals and forums on the Internet. I cast my net across an ocean of poets, novelists, painters, illustrators, singers, dancers and musicians. However, due to the irregular nature of the project, whilst the net was wide my selection from the "fish" trapped within had to be wise. I wanted only candidates who were artists themselves, artists rife with carnal curiosity. No puritans or prudes need apply. My model had to be a dryad, a muse, and my canvas of whimsy and desire. 

I found message boards and email especially inviting. The illusion of anonymity in cyberspace fostered honest conversations, and many surprising disclosures. Candidates who were not instantly wary of baring their pussies to the strokes of my pen were usually put off when I asked for a picture - two pictures to be exact. One head shot and …well, for lack of a better term, one "snatch shot," with legs spread wide. Then there was the questionnaire. Oh how many were lost because of their naïve or weak-minded answers!

But there for the plucking was THE WOMAN - a lusty, budding poet who feeds her dreams by tending bar. This young lady stood leagues apart from all the rest!

So, Beryl is my muse… my decadent posy! And now she is here…and she is mine for the next seven days(we have a contract signed)! I shall withhold further comment on my "flower" until after our first session later on this evening. Suffice it to say that she enjoyed a sumptuous luncheon, after which she retired to her room for an afternoon siesta.

I can barely tolerate the waiting… 

Tuesday: 12:01 AM

If I were Ovid, Shakespeare or the ghost of Baudelaire, words would still fail to paint what has transpired…

But by God I shall try!

At seven last evening I met Beryl in the loft of this former barn. The entirety of the second floor is my sanctum sanctorum. Therein are my studio, my books and my bed. The staircase below leads up into the largest of the chambers, the library. The next room is my workshop, and cornered at the back is a small apartment where I rest my head. The remainder of this vast upper vault is reserved for storage, and is as melancholic and eerie as any mausoleum.

The muse and I held our assignation in my studio, whose Spartan decorations include a plush old couch, a large wooden table, a divan, two straight backed wooden chairs, and my one true treasure: an antique roll-top desk muddled with my writing tools and papers. I have arranged the furniture in a utilitarian manner, with consideration only for the business at hand. I want several places where I might pose Beryl and require a variety of positions from which to choose. All this to afford me the finest possible views of her voluptuous vulva.

My blood stirred, in harmony with my cock, at the sight of this unpolished and poetic nymph. Her shoulder length auburn hair falls neatly round her face. Her full lips are quite tempting, but the paleness of her skin gives this twenty-two year old bar maid/poet an aura of latent innocence. Her flimsy red silk robe(this vestment, as per our contract, was the "uniform" for the first session)seductively enhanced her buxom frame. I had deliberately avoided being too casual with Beryl when we had lunch together, so now she seemed a trifle nervous and reserved.

"You have settled in?" I asked, " Please, come sit next to me on the couch." 

She sat herself, robe slightly parted, practically on top of me. So much for her reservations…I chose to be direct.

"I'm look forward to knowing you much better, my dear. But perhaps we'd best begin the session? We can talk some after we've finished." She flushed ever so slightly, and I could feel the heat of her body across the scant inches between us. As my cock twitched and danced I realized that I must maintain my distance –the firewall between artist and object – otherwise my work would be impossible. While I wished to capture passion on the page, I also needed to keep some blood running through my brain. 

"Works for me, Mr. Moreau. After all the emails and online chats, I feel I already know an awful lot about you. And then there's your books, of course."

"Please, call me Roman. Considering the nature of our enterprise, first names are most appropriate – almost a necessity."

"Okay, Roman. My friends call me Berry. So, what would you like me to do first?"

"What did you think of my books?" I asked. I intended to ignore her comment, but rose to the bait instead. Well, my curiosity had been pricked, and a writer's first love looks back at him in the mirror every morning.

"It's amazing how you've blurred the establishment line between poetry and prose…and fantasy and reality. And you've kicked in the door for the rest of us with the…the graphic sexuality and eroticism of your work. They still can't classify you, either. I mean is your stuff fiction, non-fiction…

She paused, like an actor looking for her mark on stage, "I mean, you really haven't done all the things you write about, have you?"

The first pose of the evening, and the inevitable first question of the fledgling author: from what font do you draw your knowledge? Have you lived or imagined? But in this case there was more to it. There was an element of tease in this doubting Thomas. 


I could normally pontificate for hours on this subject. I should begin with De Sade, who wrote that while he has imagined everything, he certainly has not done everything he has imagined. But tonight my cock was tugging harder than my vanity, so I abstained.

"Let's start by eliminating the robe, and then you can get comfortable on the sofa."

She stood and let the robe drop to the floor in a single motion. She must have practiced that move over and over in the privacy of her room. Ah the young ones, especially the poets! Always ready to get in my pants with art and artifice, when mostly all I want is a spontaneous fuck or a mind-numbing blowjob!

"That's fine Beryl. Just like that…"

I hoped my voice concealed the delirium engulfing my entire body. I could hear my heart pounding in my head, like some villain in a tale by Poe. She lay sprawled across the couch, with one leg bent and resting up against the back. This pose tendered a mesmerizing view of her slightly parted snatch. I thought of Courbet's painting of the woman with a parrot, but there was no sheet hiding any part of Berry.

And she had shaved! In her pictures there had been a neat red-brown tuft of hair, but now all was smooth, accentuating the plump oval lips of her pussy.

I snatched up (yes, yes…that word flies all around me) my quill pen and notebook. I had to start working or lose my mind (and a load of semen!). As she lay there gazing at me, no longer shy, I jotted words and phrases as quickly as they came to mind. 

There was the color and texture of her skin (Lord! She even has freckles!), and the classical shape of her body. The thigh resting on the sofa had spread a bit, highlighting the supple strength of her young muscles. She was solid, but also soft and yielding. I wrote on and on in a frenzy of impressions.

Then it hit me…scalded me, like a silver bullet. I suddenly understood that I was not writing about a sexy young poet named Beryl. What I was writing was mythic, and had NOTHING at all to do with her. She and her luscious pussy were merely clay, waiting for my able hands to mold them into something spectacular. 

I stood spellbound by the possibilities before me. I must let everything loose, I thought, and I was instantly besieged by a mental slideshow of poses, portraits and endeavors. Then I remembered the quill hanging between my fingers. That would be a fine start…

"Berry, feel up for something a little more…adventurous?" I wondered if I had successfully buried the agitation in my voice.

She grinned and said, "Are we feeling a bit kinky, Roman?"

Darling, dirty Berry! No longer shy at all. Why should she be? At that moment she thought she was the center of my universe.

"Not really kinky, just different. You wouldn't mind having you hands tied behind your back? Or my touching you, caressing you."

"Mmmm…sounds great to me," she purred.

I retrieved a couple of long silk scarves from my bedroom and a few unused quills from my desk. Beryl sat up, but I asked her not too move too much. I didn't want to lose the composition of the scene blazing in my mind, and her pose was wholly arousing. 

Once I had her hands bound, I lowered her gently back against the over-stuffed arm of the couch. I sat between her legs and pinned the left one securely behind my back. I placed the other delicious drumstick on my lap, where it pressed against my pulsing cock. 

"Roman! You are enjoying yourself, aren't you? I must really be inspiring?" She chuckled coyly as she asked, and slid her thigh back and forth across my legs. She was mistress, muse and master of my world…or so she thought.

"Very, very inspiring," I responded. I slowly ran my fingers up her belly, pausing to draw small circles with my thumbnail around her navel. Her body jerked up off the couch, and she giggled.

"Ha…caught me off guard there, Roman."

I leaned slightly forward and tucked her free leg under my left arm.

"You never mentioned you were ticklish? Keeping any other secrets?" As I asked the question I produced one of the new quills and held it in her line of vision. Her boldness vanished, in the literal blinking of her eyes.

"C'mon Roman, that's no secret! I'm up for almost anything… just that you surprised me…"

Before she could finish, I traced a line around her belly button with the stiff feathers of my quill.

"Nooo…aaaahahahaaa…" she wailed as she levitated off the sofa.

"Where else are you ticklish? No more secrets…eh?" My destination was clearly mapped in my mind's eye, but why not let her wait, and wonder?

"Hehe…just not too much Roman. I don't mind a little tickling. I…heeeyaaahh…"

Her words, and her self-control, were lost in the din of her screams as I turned the quill and began to faintly scratch lines in and around that quaint little hole in her belly. 

"Eeeeeeaaahahaha!!!" This time I could barely hold her down, as she flew into a paroxysm of howling laughter. To free my left hand, I tucked her right leg under both of mine, pressed beneath my knees. Now her lower body was firmly moored, but I made sure to leave her legs far enough apart for the access I required.

"P-please…N-no more…Nooooooo…"

I scratched my name in invisible letters all the way down her quaking stomach, across her hairless mound, and right up to the edge of her quivering plum. She bucked and twisted frantically, but the scarves held, and even when she sat up she couldn't stay up. She was laughing much too hard.

"Ahhhhahahaha…n-n-not…th-th-eeere!" 

I was as roused, as intoxicated, as Keats when first he pored over Chapman's Homer! As masterful as Picasso when he sketched his first errant line!

I paused for a moment, to let her catch her breath, and positioned myself for the next foray.

"Not there…gasp…I'll die…" she begged. She tried to wriggle her legs free, but that was of no use…except for the ongoing torment it caused my throbbing cock. I decided to free it before it snapped off. She was quick to note this liberation. She in turn took a deep breath and tried negotiation.

"Look how hard you are… Why don't you let me up so I can do something for you? If you want you can tickle my ass with your feather while I blow you…"

"It's a quill, not just a feather, and it's about to write an ode all over your quim!" I pressed my right hand over her slit and expose the moist, blushing lips. How ripe and edible she looked! But that was for another time…instead I moved the feathers in soft lines over the dewy skin, making small circles round and over the lavish pink hood of her clit. She gagged and moaned, until I turned the quill to scribble love letters on her pelvis and inside her thighs. Then she cackled and cried. I decided I might as well jot my initials on the taint between her holes.

"Sttooppp…ahaaahaha…gasp…p-pleeeeeeeze…aaaahahaha…"

She wriggled and pumped her hips so hard I was nearly tossed to the floor. I tormented her asshole and every pussy-fold for several minutes more. By that time her entire snatch was drenched, and her velvet pouch had turned just this side of crimson. I let her get a breath or two before I tweaked the quill under the slick cloak and tickled her clitoris. The ferocity of her spasms was astounding, in light of how weak her sweat-soaked body had seemed but a moment before. 

Her coarse throaty roars - first in agony, then in pleasure and release – burned through me. That plus the endless vibration of her body under mine proved to be too much…so I joined the chorus and blasted lines of cum in gushing arcs across her shaking body.

This was the end…for now. My creative fire petered with the discharge of my peter. I felt drained and unsteady. My world had shifted yet again. I knew she could leave me, leave my work. That was an option in our bargain..

I released her legs and removed the binding scarves. I tucked my cock in my pants and went downstairs to the kitchen to give Berry some time to herself. Some time to curl up and sob in peace. I returned a few minutes later with a large glass of cider and a thick woolen robe for her to wear. As she sipped the cider I slid behind her naked body on the couch. She shuddered when I touched her shoulders, but once she realized it was only a massage she leaned back, into my arms.

No, I don't think she shall leave…

Our work together has only just begun! 



Feathers



I closed my eyes as I leant forwards to kiss him on the lips. We'd done it countless times before, and I was praying that it would still feel the same. There were his lips, delicately and sensitively moving over mine, the lips I knew and loved. But then there were the feathers, all around his mouth, tickling my cheek, the feathers which didn't belong.

I pulled away from my lover. "I'm sorry," I said, "I guess I'm going to need a little time to get used to... to the way you are now."

His face fell. "You don't like it?"

"Oh no, Fabien, you look beautiful. Stunning. It's just... you're so different, I can hardly recognise you under there."

Over the last few decades, cosmetic surgery had sprinted forwards. No longer was a man required to accept the body nature had bestowed upon him, now the Reshapers could embellish it as his imagination saw fit, and even alter its very form, at only modest cost. It was nothing unusual to walk down the street and see fur or tails, webbed feet or claws, silver skin or even gleaming iridescent eyes on your fellow human beings. What people kept in their pants was even more surprising. And now Fabien had joined the Reshaped by fulfilling his lifelong desire - for a full coat of feathers.

As he stood there in our hallway, swathed in a still-dripping raincoat, all I could see of his new plumage was his face, standing a few inches higher than mine. Cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, lips: all were covered in short, soft brown feathers, looking from a distance like neatly cropped fur. Around his eyes, they darkened to a deep black.

With a small, mischievous smile he threw back his hood, watching my reaction closely. He needn't have worried - I was impressed. His hair had gone and in its place were more feathers: these ones long and brilliant orange, sprouting magnificently back and down across the sweep of his head. It gave the impression of a dancing flame engulfing him as they wavered gently in the breeze.

"Good God," I said, unable to keep from grinning, "I've got an orange boyfriend!"

He ran a hand playfully through his vivid feather-hair, fanning the flames. "You nearly had a green one, Sam. I was torn."

An understatement. He'd been drawing up all kinds of designs for months, ranging from the drab to the technicoloured. The final plan had been kept a close secret from all but him and his Reshapers; I'd never asked to see it, I knew he wanted to surprise me.

"You made the right choice. Green would have made you look like a tree. So what happens further down?" His clothes afforded a view of nothing lower than his neck, where a pair of black lines, delicately picked out against the brown, trickled down the curve of his throat on either side, leading suggestively down below his collar.

"Tsch. Impatient!" He winked, grinned. "You'll see, all in good time."

I knew him well enough to see that he was yearning to strip then and there and twirl in front of me, to show off his new body in its full glory. But Fabien was patient. He'd tease me. A little bit at a time. Drawing out the pleasure, lapping up my reactions, savouring his seconds, that was his way.

"Sam, I'm knackered. Mind if I go straight to bed?" It was nearly midnight. He'd been at the Reshapers since early morning, and I didn't think he'd slept much the night before.

"Of course not. I'll join you, it's been a long day for me too."

"Then: to bed." And he surprised me, sweeping his right arm around my shoulders, taking my left hand in his own and leading me upstairs, wet coat and all. His hand felt warm and fuzzy against mine. I glanced down, noticing it for the first time: orange feathers across the back of the hand and fingers, like on his head, but much shorter and neater. The palms and undersides of the fingers were covered in a pale brown down, soft and pleasant to hold. I squeezed it, he squeezed back.

He looked beautiful. I could put to rest my fears that he would turn himself into a botched monstrosity or a psychedelic garish horror. But I still had the deeper fear, gnawing away inside me. The fear that I wouldn't be able to see through the feathers. That they would stand immovably and unbreachably between me and the old Fabien, the man I'd fallen in love with.

***

It was nearly midday when I awoke. Looking over, I saw that Fabien was already up, with only a few loose feathers on the sheets to mark his having been there. The night before, he'd made me go to brush my teeth while he got himself undressed and into bed, and had himself tucked firmly between the sheets before I got there, leaving his new body a secret for a little longer.

Getting up and dressed, I wandered across to the living room, hearing Fabien in the shower downstairs. It was a scorching hot day, the air still humid from yesterday's rain, and I threw open windows. Then I cleared a space for breakfast on our little table, put on the kettle and two slices of bread to toast, got out plates and mugs. The toast done, I spread both slices squarely with butter and marmalade, and started on the tea. I was just stirring in the milk when Fabien came upstairs, rubbing his feathered head dry with a towel.

"Sam, we're going to need to buy a lot more shampoo."

He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, leaving his arms bare. The outer sides were forested with feathers of the same fiery orange that adorned his head, from long ones near his shoulder to shorter, denser growth at his wrist. The inner sides were brown, only slightly shorter than their orange counterparts. A few subtle black markings complemented the whole, just enough to break the monotony of his long slim arms without seeming to lose the simplicity.

"Orange and brown, with a bit of black," I said, sitting down at the table in front of one plate, pushing the other towards the empty chair. "You've got a consistent colour scheme at least. Is it like that all over?"

"No," he replied, throwing the towel to one side he sat down opposite me. His head feathers stuck out at odd angles from the towelling, giving him an appearance less of a flame than an explosion. He smiled, warmly and expectantly. "Well, do you fancy trying that kiss again? You quit half-way through last night."

I didn't want to kiss that feathered face again, attractive yet unfamiliar, but I couldn't let Fabien know that. I smiled. "Oh, alright, if you insist." He leaned forward, bringing his hand round to hold the side of my head; I rested my own on his shoulder, feeling the strange softness of the feathers on the side of his neck. My heart was racing. I kept telling myself: this is Fabien, the man you love, whom you've kissed a thousand time before. Just see through the feathers, see him. Our lips met, caressed, softly. The feathers on his face tickled all around my mouth as our lips slid over one another, like kissing a man with a full beard, but softer. Not unpleasant, but for me, an unwanted sensation. As we pulled gently apart, I felt ashamed to be glad that it was over.

"Are you alright, Sam?" His face was a picture of concern. "You didn't seem to be fully into that."

"Sorry, Fabien", I replied through a mouthful of toast and marmalade. "I'm still getting used to the feathers. I'll get there." He frowned, and seemed about to take it further, so I quickly changed the subject. "You seem to be moulting," I said, pointing to some loose feathers on the floor.

"They said that'd happen for the first day or two, then settle down. And I can go back for a refresh whenever I need it. So don't worry! I'm not going to end up looking like a half-plucked parrot in a few months. This is forever." As he said it, he grinned to himself, looking down at his arms as if in amazement.

Fabien had wanted feathers for as long as I'd known him. It was his foremost ambition, he was obsessed. Feathers fit his idealised self-vision, were to him a part of his identity with which nature had failed to equip him. And yet, he'd been willing to forego the procedure for my sake, to sacrifice his dream to keep me content. But I wouldn't have it, I encouraged him, seeing that without feathers, he'd never in his own mind be a truly whole person. I helped him. I told him that if he was beautiful to himself, he'd be beautiful to me, and tried to believe it.

"Sam, what are we doing sat in here on a day like this? We have to get out there and show me off to the world!"

And with that, he was on his feet, downed his tea, and rushed out the room with his half-eaten toast in one hand, to ready himself for his first public appearance. I finished breakfast at a leisurely rate, listening to the sounds from the bedroom, which were suggestive of Fabien learning a lot about the limitations of a hairbrush. Wandering downstairs, I smothered my face in sun cream, and considered leaving it out for Fabien but then decided he probably wouldn't need it.

A few minutes later he emerged, the earlier post-shower unruliness gone, every feather meticulously arranged, ready to be presented to the world. He'd changed his jeans for shorts, showing off his legs, feathered orange and brown like his arms, with the orange at the front, the brown at the back. And thick, getting thicker further up the leg, until by the thigh I could imagine sinking my hand into the voluptuous plumage and losing sight of the fingers.

"Looking good, Fabien. Ready to turn some heads?"

"Not unless you do something about that sun cream, look at you, you look like you've just been hit by a cream pie. Hold still a minute."

He was in front of me in an instant, frowning in concentration as he moved his downy palms back and forth across my face in gentle, rhythmic motions which tickled me and made me giggle despite myself.

"There," he said, pinching my cheek affectionately once the last of the thick white cream had been spread, "pretty as a postcard. Now let's get out there before you manage to spoil those good looks all over again."

He offered his arm, and I took it as we walked outside into the summer heat.

***

We'd turned a few heads, received a few stares, but not so many as one might expect. There were stranger things than Fabien walking the streets those days.

The tall gorgeous stranger with whom I walked arm-in-arm was not my lover Fabien. He didn't look like him: Fabien had had smooth, pale skin, chaotic brown hair and brilliant green eyes; it startled me how much I was discovering that my bond with him was tied up in my mind with that image. I'd presumed that I could learn to see the same man through the feathers, but it was more than that, Fabien himself seemed a different person. More confident. Gone were his slight shyness in public, his desire to be led. Perhaps, to his way of thinking, this was the first time in his life he'd been anything other than naked?

We'd stopped in the park, thronged with people on the bright summer's afternoon, and sat on the grass to enjoy the sunshine. Fabien talked at length, chirpily, bouncing haphazardly between subjects. I listened only intermittently. Whilst he talked, he held my hand, gently caressing it absent-mindedly with his thumb, back and forth, back and forth. Something in me told me that I should be enjoying this time together, but I just felt a little cold inside.

Then: "Sam, I'm too hot," and glancing round to make sure I was watching, he pulled off his t-shirt, letting his full feathered chest free.

It followed in outline the same colour scheme as the rest of him: an incandescent orange over his back and shoulders, and soft brown on his chest. Both were thick and shaggy, padding out his thin frame and giving him a curiously cuddly look. From his neck, two black lines of feathers diffused into a mottling of black amongst the brown across his chest. Moving down, the black feathers became more sparse and white ones began to appear, until by his stomach he was speckled white, a pattern which continued to thicken downwards at least as far as the belt of his shorts.

"You look terrific, Fabien." I meant it, but I could feel a tear in the corner of my eye. Every feather I saw seemed to distance him from the old Fabien, my Fabien.

"Sam, what's wrong?" He took my hand again, in both of his.

"It's the feathers, Fabien." I took I deep breath. "They look lovely, I really mean it, but I feel like... I feel like I've lost you."

He frowned, puzzled.

"I mean... I can't see through the feathers, to see you, not yet."

"Why do you want to see through them? I thought you liked them."

"I do, but... maybe that's not what I meant, I meant to say... it's like there's an old Fabien, and a new Fabien, and it's like the old one's drifted away."

"Oh. Oh, Sam, why didn't you tell me the feathers bothered you so much? Tomorrow, I'll go back, they'll be gone, you can have your old Fabien back."

"No, oh no, I don't want you to do that, please!"

He studied me for a moment. "What do you want?"

"I want... I just want..." I floundered. "I don't know! I'm all muddled up, I don't know what I want, I don't know what's wrong, but I don't feel close to you any more!" I stifled a sob that was fighting to escape.

"Sam! Stop." He took his hands and gripped my head firmly, one on either side. The surprise stilled me. "Your mind's overclocking, and running in circles again. Remember the last time?" I nodded. "Close your eyes. Breathe. Relax."

I shut my eyes and breathed deeply. And again. And again. I opened my eyes.

"Are you OK now?" I nodded. "Good. Now look me in the eyes." I caught them and stared. Brilliant green eyes staring back into mine. Fabien's eyes, beautiful, unchanged.

"Everything's perfectly simple. There's nothing whatsoever to worry about. It's me! And I love you, Sam."

And there he was. My Fabien. My fabulous feathered Fabien, and I loved him.

I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't because I found myself crying, the pent-up worry and anguish and self-imposed mental torture washing away in tears. He put his arms around me, and I buried my face in the thick, warm, shaggy feathers of his chest.

***

I must have fallen asleep, for presently I awoke, lying with my head pillowed on Fabien's chest and the sun gently toasting my arms. I didn't get up straight away but stayed still, feeling my head rise and fall with the rhythm of his breath. I felt sleepily tranquil, and idly watched a butterfly as it flitted distractedly over the feathers of his arm, perhaps having mistaken them for flowers.

"Are you feeling better now, Sam?"

"Mmmm. Much better. A whole world better." I sat up, and shuffled over to sit close besides him, him lying in the grass on his back. Lazily I extended one hand and sifted my fingers through his feathers, feeling them, connecting to them: the thick, warm blanket of his chest; the velvet rustle of his arms; the soft tickle of his neck and chin.

"So are you sure you don't want me to get these out tomorrow?"

"Don't you dare," I reprimanded him, and kissed him on the nose, which tickled pleasantly.

He reached up his arms to take me by the waist, pulling me over him. Cupping his head in my hands, relishing the feel of feathers between my fingers, I gazed down at my lover's face with its striking orange blaze and its gorgeous green eyes. And then I kissed him, softly at first, our lips dancing over one another, but then more urgently, passionately, pulling him towards me, my whole body moving with the intensity of the kiss. His fingers squeezed and massaged my hips as we squirmed on the grass, throwing everything into this long and delicious moment.

Sated, I pulled away, breathless, aroused. Fabien, panting quietly, lifted a finger to stroke my cheek with his feather touch. "We'd better go home then," he said.

I glanced around at the crowded park, and nodded. Stiffly I stood up, offering a hand to help Fabien to his feet, and we set off towards our home, him with an arm around my shoulders, me with an arm around his waist, my fingers buried in the thick feathers of his side.

As we walked I felt as though my mind were emptying, cleansed of everything but simple contentment, and a serene consciousness of the majestic man walking besides me, the complex rhythm of his limbs, the rustle and tickle of his fine feathers.

***

He threw me down onto the bed and kissed me again, hungrily, wetly. This wasn't the old Fabien: he'd always wanted me to take control. This Fabien was on top of me, pawing my face with his hands and kissing me again and again. And I liked it.

Raising my hand to his chest, I burrowed my fingers in the thick feathery warmth, feeling the urgent racing of his heart. I moved to take off my shirt, but he batted my hand away and began unbuttoning it himself, from the top down; first a button, then a pause for another pressing and passionate kiss, then another button, and so on down the shirt. I gripped hard now on the long feathers of his lower back, now the back of his thigh. My shirt gone, he unbuckled my belt and slid off my trousers. Reaching up I unfastened his own belt and pulled off his shorts, sliding them awkwardly down the heavily feathered legs, leaving us both in nothing but our underpants.

Fabien bulged with excitement, as must have I. I laid my left hand over the rounded fabric covering his shapely buttocks, feeling more feathers underneath. My right hand I moved to push the fingers into the soft white-dappled feathers of his belly, and then worked it downwards, sliding under the elastic to find his groin. The feathers seemed to become softer, downier, until at last I found myself gripping the solid bar of his erect penis, and here at last I was grateful to feel bare flesh under my fingers. 

He squeaked with pleasure as I massaged the shaft briefly under the fabric, before moving down to fondle his testes. A soft downy fuzz covered them, and I luxuriated in the feel of it against my skin as I kneaded them gently.

I shivered as Fabien touched me back, patting and stroking my cock and balls through the material. Then, reaching for the elastic he eased them down, over my knees and feet and off. My cock sprang up, eager and erect. Following the example I slid off his own pants, leaving him fully naked in front of me for the first time. I could see, now, that his groin and testes sported a mane of fluffy white down, brilliant and bright, right up to the base of his penis, and which continued in a stripe between his legs and up to the small of his back. Around it, more vivid orange feathers continued across his buttocks and sides down to his legs.

"What do you think? That bit's just for you."

"Fabien, I love it! Hang on, don't move..."

Holding onto the shaft with one hand, the other hooked over his back, I sat up a little, bringing my face close to his cock. It dripped in anticipation. Carefully, I planted a kiss on the tip, tasting the salty fluid with my tongue. Fabien squealed, then laughed, hugging me tightly. Impulsively I thrust my face forwards into the fluffy pubic down, inhaling, enjoying its rich scent of sweat and sex and shampoo.

Meanwhile his hands had found my cock and he began to work the shaft, ever so slowly, the down of his palms brushing the sensitive skin, invigorating my excitement.

I turned my attention back to his own penis, bringing my mouth around the tip, running my tongue over it, and then drawing the whole shaft slowly inside me, until I felt feathers tickling my nose, and I could not take any more without choking. Then slowly, as slowly as I knew he liked it, I began moving back and forth, working his manhood between my tongue and the roof of my mouth as deftly as I was able, savouring the taste and the sensation.

I was just settling into a rhythm when I felt a sharp tap on my shoulder. Fabien. "That's great," he gasped, "really great. But pull out. I've got a mind for something else."

I pulled away, and he leapt off the bed and dashed to the bedside drawer from where, after a quick rummage, he pulled a jar of lubricant.




Feathers & Hot Oil



The Master has earned the Bitch's trust and admiration. So much so that he can bring any of his company to her and she will treat them with the highest degree of respect and grace. They know that she will do only what she is given permission to do from the Master himself. If he says "no" there is no argument.

Her day is spent finding out more of the fine arts of lovemaking, self pampering, and the desires of men's hearts. Theories are discovered, and then tested on the Master, or another of his choosing. If he finds the theory intriguing he will bring in a 'helper' and watch to see the reaction before he tests it himself.

Today I have discovered a new twist on an old art. Oil painting with feathers. My goal is to wake the sleeping giant with as much pleasure and sensual eroticism as possible. This makes a happy boy, and the day seems to go more smoothly. That in mind I start early by pouring the scented oil into the warmer. I make it just a little hotter than what is comfortable, it will leave a red mark, but only for a little while, and assemble the rest of my tools. The tools that are used are a loose downy feather, a stiff tail feather, and a long bristle paint brush. These are placed on a small tray along with the hot oil and I take them to the place where the sleeping Man is.

I am freshly bathed, my body shaved and oiled, my long hair still wet from the bath. I dress in my white gauzy cotton dress with the corset laced and tightened. My bare feet pad quietly into the room and I lay my tray next to the bed. I gently ease away the cover to reveal the naked body, and watch a moment the heavy rhythm of his breathing. Soft kissed on the back of his neck and shoulders wake him just enough to now be dreaming of things that are happening, this enhances the experience without startling the recipient. I then take the long bristle brush and dip it into the oil. It drips along his arm and shoulder to the middle of the back, causing goose bumps and low groans deep within the slumbering man. A gentle "S" curve along the spine causes a squirm and more moans. Another dip and more drops coupled with more curves and long strokes bring the Master out of the dream and into the real. His back and ass are painted with intricate designs of glistening oil. Now for the feathers. One in each hand. The firm feather in the right hand to smooth out the oil evenly, the downy feather in the left to float unevenly across the skin. The feathers in their hands work in tandem, one after the other in a dance atop the skin to cause the senses to reach their peak. Back, shoulders, spine, small of back, round ass cheeks, the little dip just under the butt, down the back of the thigh, a little twist and curl around the back of the knee, down the calf to the ankles - first inside then out, the heel, and to the bottom of the foot, toes - each individually, then back up again stopping at "hot spots" along the way. The feather reaches in at the space between legs at the base of the cock, coming along the backside reaching in with their airy fingers to explore regions most often left unexplored by human fingers. Then around the side along the hip and up the outside of the rib cage, this turns the man form over to allow for the front half to be enhanced and aroused. 

A pause for a moment of admiration for the hard cock before me. Arousal is a success, and I am compelled to make a closer inspection. My lips touch his hardness gently, at first, with kisses and nibbles. Then I must work harder the urge is strong and the desire to feel him in my mouth is uncontrollable. I wrap my mouth full around him and swallow the hardness deep into the back of my throat. I pump him and "caress" him with my tongue until I can feel the unmistakable throb of his fullness exploding, his hands on my head grasping hard in my hair, he lets out a mighty roar of satisfaction and contentment. I sit back on my heels, my pussy wet, and my job only half complete. 

I can smell the arousal in my own body wafting through the thin cotton skirt. His taste still fresh in my mouth I begin again with the oil and paint brush. I start again with the hot oil across his arm and collar bones around his neck and down the middle of his chest. The nipples I will focus special attention on shortly. 

The same process of drops of hot followed by a design patterned into the skin. When the designs are complete the feathers do their little dance over the sensitive skin. Arms, wrist, palm to fingertips, around the side across the belly finally to each nipple until it's hard waiting for my touch, now I too am quite aroused and he is awake enough and thinking of what he wants from me. He reaches out to me and pulls me to him. The oil on his body makes the white film cling to my form. My nipples stand at attention awaiting the command from our leader. He pinches and draws them higher. He lifts me onto his chest, I straddle him, my wet and throbbing pussy betrays my desire. 

He takes me in his arms and pulls me close to him, kisses me strong on the lips and in one motion flips me over onto my back. He lifts my skirt to reveal the smooth pink lips of his high desire. My legs spread wide inviting him to explore and ravage where he wills. His oiled body glistens in the morning light and his hands control me like a potter to clay. The lips he kisses do not belong to my face. The tongue probes deep and long, no space left without a visit. His fingers start their wandering journey to the back of my being, my rose bud quivers with anticipation of him. The more I squirm the harder he gets, until I find myself with my legs over his shoulders, my ass being penetrated with his massive cock, and his fingers working a magic spell in my pussy. The cherry tart residue left on his lips melts with his salty aftertaste when he kisses me long and hard. His tongue wanders earnestly in my mouth and mine in his. Our passion becomes a kaleidoscope of color and fire as he begins his day with a feathered oil painting from his Bitch.