OH MISTRESS MINE 1

By Sergeeva [11^th Nov. 1999, 34.4K]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Skinner checked his watch as he climbed out of his car. Damn. 7.26 and he still had to make it up to the penthouse apartment that was his destination.

He looked at the plain heavy cream envelope in his hand and tried to subdue his apprehension. At the Bureau he supervised over two hundred agents, handled a budget of several million dollars and made decisions on matters of national security with assurance and sang froid, yet here he was, reduced to a dry-mouthed nervousness such as he hadn't felt since he'd dared to ask Laura Blumenthal to the Prom...

The fact that he was here tonight was the result of a chance meeting eight months previously. He'd run into an old acquaintance at a DOJ seminar and over coffee they'd started talking about the problems of meeting anyone new or congenial in DC and the bleakness of going home to an empty apartment night after night... Carl Hogan had been divorced from his wife for several months and Skinner was a widower of nearly three years now. Skinner had assumed Carl was feeling as gloomy as he was, but it turned out he was wondering whether Skinner might be interested in a "dining club" he attended. Skinner thought he might be.

The Charteris Club was not at all what Walter Skinner had expected, and he'd almost walked out in blushing confusion that first night, when several ladies and more than a few men had invited him to "dine" in their private rooms at the Charteris mansion. "Dining", Walter discovered, could mean anything from a civilised four-course cordon bleu meal, to an orgy of bondage, S & M, group sex, same sex, whatever sort of sex the parties involved could think up... His initial shock had been more at the realisation that something about the idea intrigued him, rather than a prudish reaction to something unconventional. He'd been persuaded to stay, spent a delightful evening with a lady librarian called Roberta and left feeling in a better mood than he had for a long time.

Since that evening, he'd been a regular visitor to the club, enjoying the mix of people he encountered there, and the first-rate cuisine, making use of the excellent gym, and learning more about his own sexuality and needs than he ever had in seventeen years of marriage. He'd been taken under the wing of a 50-something accounts clerk called Peter Genetti, who had become his mentor, teacher, and eventually lover. There was no snobbery at the club, and its members came from all walks of life. Election to its roll was by nomination, and no-one thought twice about rubbing shoulders, or other parts, with a CEO or an electrician, a sales-girl or an heiress. Peter was witty, well-read, generous and patient and Walter had lost his heart to the older man. Peter was also one of the most intimidating tops on the DC scene and under his tutelage Walter had discovered in himself a longing to become the perfect devoted sub.

They'd been meeting for nearly three months when Peter was killed in a traffic accident. Walter was bereft. He stayed away from the club for weeks, unable to face the people and places associated with his Master. He retreated into work and duty, trying to forget his life as a "sub-in-training". He mourned Peter for three more months and then one September afternoon he'd come home from a five-mile run, not relaxed, as he'd hoped, but restless and full of a hunger for something he thought he could never have again. Almost as if hoping to lay the ghost of his longings, he'd gone to the club and been welcomed as a long-lost family member.

Old friends urged him to return to the scene and find a new Master, new members speculatively eyed the tall, gravely handsome man they'd heard mentioned. Walter felt more than a little overwhelmed. One person had made a lasting impact on him that day. A woman had been dining alone in the salon, elegantly dressed in midnight blue velvet, her rich blonde hair casually pinned up with a sapphire and diamond pin that could have paid for Walter's condo, car and most of the pension he would get and still leave change for an average man to live comfortably on. Walter had noted all this with awe but no self-interest, until she had reached for his hand as he passed her table, and fixed him with a pair of disconcertingly direct green-gold eyes. Her voice was soft and cultured:

"I knew Peter for a very long time. I know how much he thought of you and how you must miss him. If there's ever anything I can do for you, please contact me. I'm Zerlina Gray."

She handed Walter a business card with her name and telephone number, continuing to hold him in her neutral gaze until he pocketed the card and found himself giving her an almost-bow of acknowledgement before he stepped away. He'd never encountered such a powerful personality before. In just those few moments he felt as if Ms. Zerlina Gray had learned all there was to know about him, to the depths of his soul, and he didn't have a clue about who or what she was. He dreamt about her that night, leaning down to him from a balcony while he strove to reach her white hand. The next day he gathered his courage and called her. They talked for an hour. A proposal was made, and Walter was astonished to find himself accepting it. Which was how he came to be here tonight, in an Art Deco elevator ascending to meet his new Mistress, nervous as hell.

He tore open the envelope in his hand and extracted a small key. Remembering his instructions, he inserted the key into the unmarked lock on the control panel in the elevator, squared his shoulders and turned it. He had only as much time as it took the elegant old elevator to creak its way up to the top floor in which to shed his commanding AD persona and become the perfect sub.

The ornate wrought iron doors slid open and he had run out of time. Facing him was a massive oak door and a gold knocker in the shape of a pouncing lion. I wonder if that's an omen, thought Skinner, trying to relax as best he could and giving his appearance a hasty once-over. Straightening his tie a minuscule fraction and taking a deep breath, he wrapped his big hand around the lion's polished head and knocked once, firmly. Then, bowing his head respectfully, he awaited his fate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zerlina set down her glass of wine and went to open the door, smiling in anticipation. Walter was a little reassured by the smile, but not by her greeting.

"Walter, only a little late. Come in then, and let me look at you."

Oh lord, he thought, stepping forward, I've annoyed her already. I'm not sure I can do this. But she was standing calmly, expecting him to enter, so he stepped in, filling the doorway for a moment with his wide shoulders and bringing the scent of the November evening into the warm, lamp-lit apartment.

"Thank you Ma'am," he managed to murmur, standing quietly as Zerlina closed the door and

led him into the main room.

"You have nice manners, Walter. 'Ma'am' will be fine for now. We will see if you earn the right to call me 'Mistress' as we get to know each other better. Now, take off that coat so I can see you properly."

She held out her hand and Walter shrugged out of the heavy wool coat and laid it over her outstretched arm. He added his scarf and black leather gloves and Zerlina put them in a closet and came back to where he waited, head bowed, hands clasped before him.

"Excellent, Walter. I see you have learned well. You can keep your hands at your sides. That's it, now let me look at you... Yes, you stand very well: back straight, weight balanced, no twitching or fidgeting. So many people think that submission is conveyed by cowering or hunching meekly. I don't find such servile postures attractive. You have an impressive physique, Walter, and more importantly, you have the art of bearing yourself most gracefully for such a big man..."

She was slowly circling him as she spoke, considering every angle of his elegantly-suited body in an unhurried but serious fashion. She ran a hand down his arm, flexing her fingers lightly around his biceps. She noted the perfect fall of charcoal grey pants over long legs, and the fit of the jacket across unusually broad shoulders. While she made her leisurely inspection, he stood like a schooled stallion, powerful but obedient, strength reined in, waiting to serve. Finally, she stood facing him again:

"I like what I see. I was correct in my observations when we first met. You are a very handsome boy, Walter. Now, as this is our first time, I will take things slowly tonight. I'm sure you have both your strengths (she ran a finger down his chest) and your weaknesses (she slid the hand around to skim over a high tight buttock), and we will begin to explore your limits in time. I won't push you tonight. We should get to know each other and see how well we play together before we venture into unknown territory. I wonder what you have heard about me?"

Walter was still blushing from being called 'boy' by this woman who was almost certainly younger than he was, but he gathered his composure and managed to reply.

"With your permission, Ma'am?..."

"You may speak freely, Walter."

"Well, Ma'am, they say that you can be very... strict..."

"I can be, Walter, I certainly can be, If there is any discipline called for, it will be instantly and comprehensively forthcoming. Have no doubts about that. However, I hope I am fair too."

"They say that too, Ma'am. I hope I can please you."

"Oh, I have the feeling that you will, my dear. And I am going to make you feel the most exquisite pleasure too..." Zerlina leaned close to him and whispered "I see the passion in you, boy. You control it well, but I intend to melt some of that control in the next few hours." She felt a shiver run through the powerful body, and her eyes gleamed. "Now, I want to see much more."

Her long nails danced up Walter's shirt-front until they reached the knot of his tie, which she tapped thoughtfully.

"Loosen that. Take off your shoes, socks and jacket. The rest is mine."

As Walter began to slide the silk through the knot, she moved to recline on a huge sofa: soft gold velvet, draped with Persian shawls. Her silk robe pooled around her bare feet as she tucked them up on the cushions and lay back to watch him carry out her instructions.

His big hands deftly slackened the tie until the knot lay against his breastbone, then he slid off the beautifully-tailored jacket and folded it neatly on the floor beside him. He bent to unlace shiny black dress shoes and tucked his dark socks inside them. Every movement was spare and graceful. His eyes remained cast down respectfully.

Zerlina uncoiled herself from where she'd been watching appreciatively, and stepped close to him. Her soft fingers began to unbutton his shirt. Walter could smell her subtle perfume and feel her body heat. Her deep purple silk robe brushed the floor in shimmering folds. It was gathered at her throat and waist into smooth, close fitting bands, but unfastened from neck to waist and from waist to feet, so that as she moved the open edges parted to reveal a glimpse of creamy breasts and bare legs. It was seductive in a very understated way, and Walter felt his senses respond.

This curvaceous woman with her curling honey-blonde hair and expressive eyebrows was unquestionably as intimidating as her reputation described, but she also had a sensual, almost feline quality about her, like a lazily predatory cat, and the combination was doing seriously powerful things to Walter's composure and anatomy. Watch your step, Walter, he lectured himself silently.

Suddenly, without warning, her fingers moved and Zerlina pulled one half of his shirt free of tie and belt and bared his right shoulder and breast. Walter barely managed not to flinch as she raked her nails over his collarbone, down the vein on his upper arm, and across the smooth slab of his pectoral. She wasn't deliberately cruel, but she wasn't gentle either, pressing her fingers into his flesh, letting the ends of her nails scratch at his skin. Watching his down-turned face intently, she pinched his nipple sharply between thumb and forefinger, tugging at the tender brown bud and slowly pulling away her two fingers so that the nails nipped together at the tip. She didn't miss the flicker of a muscle along Walter's tight jaw, and her tongue slipped between her lips and licked once in appreciation of his self-control and of his beautiful suppressed arousal.

"You like that, do you, Walter?" She held onto his smarting nipple and twisted it lightly. Then, just as unexpectedly as she had pounced before, she let him go, barely giving him a chance to register the painful rush of blood to his abused nipple before she dipped her head and sucked it into the heat of her mouth. Her tongue teased at the puckered flesh, her cheek was soft against his bare skin, her heavy hair brushed against his arm. A groan escaped his lips.

"Forgive me, Ma'am," he whispered. She lifted her head for a second:

"No - that's good, Walter. I want you to express your feelings." She nipped at him again with her teeth and soothed the bite with her tongue. Taking her time, she pulled away from him, straightening up to look him over admiringly.

"Don't expect such attentions all the time. I indulged myself because you look so very edible, and I was feeling hungry" She grinned at him like a lioness spying dinner, then tugged his tie completely off and swept the shirt off his other shoulder, leaving it hanging from his wrists by the still-buttoned cuffs. "Well, I can certainly see why everyone at the club has been talking about you..." her eyes devouring his exposed chest. "They are saying that a sub of such promise hasn't come along in years... I will have to take very good care of you."

Her hand went to his chin. "You may look at me, Walter." He lifted his eyes, and heard Zerlina's audible intake of breath. "Oh. My. I think we'll dispense with these from now on," she said, carefully removing his glasses and setting them aside. "You have... remarkable eyes, Walter, and unless you are helpless without those", she gestured to the folded glasses, he shook his head mutely. "Then I think I want to be able to see every nuance of expression as I have my wicked way with you..." Walter caught the dazzle of her speculative grin as he blushed and dipped his head again.

"I didn't give you permission to look away, boy, but that is such a fetching blush that I'll let that go this time. Now - strip, take a shower and I will give you a proper inspection, then you may wait on me for my pleasure."

Wondering if he had just passed the first hurdle, Walter hastened to comply. He had showered before coming here, of course, but he wasn't about to correct her over that. Zerlina clapped her hands in command and stepped back to allow him space to strip off the shirt and his pants and briefs. She observed the whole process with her unnerving tawny gaze and Walter did his best not to feel as if he was an interesting specimen at the zoo, as he peeled off his clothes. When he was naked, she took his hand and led him to a luxurious bathroom with a huge antique claw-foot bath and an elaborate brass shower arching over one end of the tub. There was no shower curtain and Walter hesitated as to what to do next.

"Climb in then," Zerlina ordered and having turned on the hot spray, she settled herself on a chaise lounge to watch the show. "Be very thorough now, Walter, and remember that I'll be checking all those delicious parts soon."

He was a little disconcerted by the lack of privacy, but managed not to show it. He focussed his mind on that place within himself where he gave up his will to this cause, to becoming the perfect, obedient, adoring plaything. Where his own needs were subsumed in the need to serve and to submit. Concentrating on lathering and rinsing himself efficiently, with unconscious suppleness, he twisted and bent to reach every part of his body with the soapy sponge.

Zerlina felt her own temperature rise as she watched the big hands slide over every perfectly defined muscle. Her lips parted as she followed the glide of a palm along a hard thigh or across a rippled abdomen. Her eyes widened as Walter turned under the stream of water and the foam slid down a sculpted back and into the crevice between taut bronzed buttocks. An all-over tan, she observed. Nothing to mar the golden skin and the perfect amount of dark curling body-hair. He wasn't even trying to be seductive, just soaping and rinsing scrupulously, but when Walter ran long broad fingers down to lift his scrotum and carefully wash his penis and balls, Zerlina felt a flush of arousal sweep through her so fiercely she almost cried out. Her head fell back against the padded arm of the chaise and her fingers slid between the silken edges of her robe to cup her own aching sex. In a little while, she consoled herself.

When Walter was finished, she called him over to her, saying nothing, but merely clicking her fingers and pointing down at the floor. Silently, Walter sank to his knees, his wet body glistening as the candlelight shone on the powerful torso.

"Very good, Walter." Her hand trailed through the damp dark curls on his chest. "Put your hands on your head."

She watched him move - the raising of his powerful arms lifting his ribcage to accentuate the narrowness of his waist, the hollows of his armpits sweeping enticingly into the defined planes of his pectorals. Trickles of water ran down his honeyed skin. Zerlina caught her breath again at the strong masculine beauty of this man. Reaching forward, she brushed a gentle finger over the sweep of his wet eyelashes, her face softening into a deep tenderness for a moment. Another click of her fingers and he rose obediently, hard thighs powering him upright in one smooth movement.

The shower had slicked the dark hairs on his legs and forearms close against his skin. Droplets winked in the wiry curls at his groin. Zerlina flicked a negligent nail at his nipple again, watching for the quickly-controlled twitch of his pectoral muscle.

"Bend over for me."

Walter hesitated for a second, not understanding. She merely cocked a questioning eyebrow at him, until he registered that he was keeping her waiting. He reminded himself that it didn't matter if he didn't understand what her intention was, he was hers to command. It was that simple. Contracted, agreed, desired. Blissful submission was precisely what he sought. He spread his feet a little and grabbed his ankles. He felt more than a little ridiculous like that, his bare ass up in the air, but he was aware of a thrill of helplessness too.

He stretched his spine, letting his weight settle, slowing his breathing. He felt nothing for several seconds and then the slight weight of her warm hand alighted on the small of his back and began to stroke, slowly. Walter focussed his senses on that tiny movement, on the heat that seemed to spread from her touch. He felt heavy, dreamy, euphoric. The caress lasted for a timeless moment, then unexpectedly, Zerlina's other hand slid firmly down the back of his thigh, stretched taut in this position. Again he felt soothing heat. Water still dripped down his shower-damp body. He felt the trickles run down his sides, into the hollow of his armpits, along the inside of his elbows...

Lost in sensation, conscious only of her slim fingers sliding over his naked skin, he felt no shock when she gently parted his cheeks and drew one of those slim fingers down the crack of his ass. He felt the glide of silk against his hip as she moved close up against him, continuing the hypnotic circling over the base of his spine with one hand, while the other slid softly between his legs to graze his perineum and tickle the back of his scrotum. His testicles were gently cupped and rolled with a practised hand. He gulped air, as best he could while bent double, the sensory torment bringing him lurching out of that dream-state in which he had been floating. Hurling him into tingling arousal. Zerlina felt his reaction and laughed softly. Unfolded the warmth of her curling fingers from his flesh and drew her hand back between his butt cheeks. Her thumb pressed briefly against his anus, barely pushing at the tight sphincter, then he felt warm breath and a deliberate kiss, right there on that ultra-sensitive rim. He almost came on the spot, the sensation was so melting and erotic. She slapped his buttock lightly and commanded him to straighten up.

"Good boy, Walter. Did you forget what I said about making a thorough inspection? You needn't have worried, my sweetheart - you are wholesome enough to eat."

He closed his eyes against sudden dizziness as the blood rushed away from his brain. His face felt hot, beads of moisture drying on the heat of his blushing cheeks. Both sets of cheeks.

Zerlina patted his shoulder. "You're doing fine, your restraint is admirable. Do you have such good control of this impressive beast?" she purred sibilantly, palming his heavy balls again and circling his cock with her finger and thumb. Echoing its owner's eager compliance, Walter's penis blushed rose-gold at this attention, and began to harden. "How lovely!" Zerlina exclaimed, "what a charmingly eager boy you are! You must earn your rewards, however. Get dried now, and follow me back to the main room. I have duties for you." Beneath the seductive softness of her voice there was steel, and Skinner felt a rush of adrenaline at being subject to her will. He wanted only to please her, but the glint in her eye told him that disobedience was not an option in any case.

When he had towelled himself off and made his way back to the luxurious living room, he found Zerlina reclining on the velvet sofa again, setting out an array of bottles and jars on a delicate pedestal table beside her. She beckoned him over and gestured to a spot near her feet. He knelt tall, keeping his back straight and lowering his head. A hand lifted his chin. He gazed up into Zerlina's green-gold eyes, seeing her in soft focus without his glasses.

"Oh Walter... you could be my undoing with those eyes," she whispered wryly, petting his flushed face. "We're going to have to remember just who is in charge here, aren't we?" Her sweet smile mellowed the teasing menace in her words. Walter dropped his gaze.

"No, no - I didn't say I wasn't enjoying the show." She raised his face to hers again. "You're a shy one. Either that or you're *too* well trained. I don't expect you to hide your light under a bushel, you know. I was just allowing myself a moment of human weakness - not something many people have seen from me, I can tell you. Somehow I have the feeling I may have a lot more moments like that when you're around."

Walter didn't know if she was criticising him or not. He hadn't been trying to be winsome or coy, he was genuinely nervous in her presence, and eager to please. It was a tricky business walking the line between absolute obedience and lack of initiative, between active adoration and presumption. He didn't have long to ponder this, however, as Zerlina soon had him scurrying back and forth fetching bowl and water, scented lotions, fluffy lilac towels and a box of cotton wool balls.

"I want to see how attentive you can be to your Mistress' needs. I want you to bathe and dry my feet - carefully now - and then varnish my nails. Use the 'Purple Rain' polish."

She stretched out her bare feet to him and lay back, closing her eyes and apparently trusting him to just get on with it. Walter hadn't failed to notice her use of the title 'Mistress'. The fact that she was ready to cast herself in that role to him made his heart leap. He didn't allow himself to think about being loved, but oh, how he longed for someone to give his love to. Pleasurably, he squeezed the sponge in the bowl of fragrant water, took her pretty, pale foot in his hand and began to bathe it. Both feet were lovingly washed and dried and as he quietly followed his orders, Walter became aware he was being watched. He didn't break submission to look up at Zerlina, but he knew she had opened her eyes and was studying him again. He was sure his ears were glowing red, and his fingers moved with extra care as he dried between each little toe.

When this was done, he made a pile of cushions to support her feet and took up the little conical bottle of nail polish to begin his second task. The small brush felt as delicate as a flower in his big hand and he was so nervous making the first sweep over her tiny nail. Iridescent violet gleamed against her milky skin and made her toes appear jewelled. One by one each nail was painstakingly adorned and buffered with a tuft of cotton wool between it and its neighbour, until ten pearly toes glinted in the soft candlelight. Walter remembered Sharon doing this occasionally, her cheek against her own bent knee, the tip of her tongue sticking out as she concentrated. He was stiff now himself, from sitting tensed while he carried out the delicate work. He flexed his shoulders a little as he carefully put the cap on the varnish bottle.

"Mmm, do that again." Self-consciously, he shrugged a bit. "Silly boy - I meant that pantherish shoulder-roll you probably don't even know that you do... You really are the most innocently erotic man I have ever seen, Walter Skinner!"

He covered his shy pleasure at her comment by tidying way the bowl and towels. Zerlina just laughed at him, wiggling her purple toes and turning them to catch the light. They matched her silken robe exactly.

"Some lemon balm lotion for my legs now, I think. It's the tall bottle."

He panicked a little as he looked at the skirt of her long robe, swathing her ankles. Was he supposed to...?

"You may uncover me, Walter."

Tentatively, he pushed back the silk and exposed her bare legs. Taking first one and then the other in his hands, he stroked the smooth lotion into her equally smooth skin - his tanned hands dramatically dark against her flesh. Zerlina made tiny sounds of what he hoped was pleasure as he worked: up fine-boned calves, massaging firmly into the long muscles, working a bit extra into knees and the soles of her feet, down over satiny shins, around slender ankles... Over and over his hands swept in measured rhythm, until Zerlina's legs gleamed with a pampered sheen.

She opened sleepy eyes when he finally stilled his hands. A languorous smile curved her lips:

"Wonderful hands too - is there no end to your delights, my adorable boy? I think you deserve a reward now. Give me your foot."

Uncertain, Walter lifted one long leg and couldn't believe she really wanted to take his foot into her lap. She stroked the strong bones and pulled him nearer her stomach, settling his heel between her warm bare thighs. He slid back onto his elbows and lay at her feet, naked and wide-eyed as she kneaded and massaged his foot in her surprisingly powerful grip. When she reached for a bottle of nail polish his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

" 'Stormcloud' " She announced, grinning widely. "Very butch and very sexy - just like you, Walter."

"Stormcloud" proved to be a dark hematite grey, like liquid steel. Walter watched incredulously as Zerlina painted the toenails on his left foot, holding each of his long toes in turn and running unbearably ticklish fingers up and down the arch. He couldn't hold an eyes-down position, lying as he was, so he tried to keep a dutiful expression on his face as he watched the procedure. It became harder and harder to maintain his calm, though, as he saw Zerlina's own increasing arousal. Her hands snaked down over the long planes of his foot and up the inside of his leg. She leant farther and farther forward, to reach the crook of his knee, and then his inner thigh. Her eyes burned into him and her lips were parted as she touched him, sliding over the hard muscles, twisting where she sat, so that he had to twist too - his legs spread for balance, his groin open to her devouring gaze.

He couldn't look away from her face, her sparkling eyes, her soft mouth. So rapt was he, he didn't notice Zerlina's foot creeping up his other thigh, not until her dainty toes were nudging at his balls. She was playing him now, like the diva that she was, Sprawled on the low couch, her legs twined with his, curling her amethyst toes against his hardening cock, hissing her own mounting pleasure with every push.

Walter gave up all pretence of composure. What had she said about melting his control? He had no control left. He was spread like a fawning dog while she tickled his balls and rubbed her foot against the tight skin of his swollen cock. Grabbing handfuls of the pillows around him, he writhed on a sea of sensation, rolling his head, gasping deep breaths as he tried to force oxygen to his stupefied brain.

"Beautiful, Walter! That's my gorgeous boy... let it out now, let me hear those moans and sighs, oh sweetheart, you are so good - god, your cock is perfect, I want you to scream for me, Walter." Zerlina's voice was raw with sexual power, stroking him as roughly as her toes tantalised his erection. He knew he couldn't hold back much longer... She was getting all the moans and sighs she asked for, and he thought he might very well scream too if he didn't get release soon...

As if she knew, Zerlina suddenly pounced - curling up off the couch and over onto him in one sinuous movement. Straddling his hips, she tore at the fastenings of her robe as she swivelled her bottom against his groin. The silk fell away from her torso, and she fell forward: creamy ample breasts against his chest, soft belly against his teak-hard abdomen, silken thighs against his slim waist. Her mouth was everywhere her hands couldn't reach, roaming over his shoulders, and jaw, licking at his ears, a million impassioned kisses falling on his brow, his eyelids, his throat, his parted lips...

All the while her hips gyrated, hot moisture slicking across his skin, her bare buttocks stroking against his rigid cock, nestling him closer, closer, closer... She was the lioness again, pinning him down with the force of her desire, with the sheer arrogance of her assault. He knew he could have toppled her off him in an instant, reversed their positions, subdued her, but he wanted to be hers, totally hers. He wanted to submit, to be taken and consumed as she had promised. He grasped her waist in his broad hands and stilled her frantic undulations long enough to align her glistening sex with his. In that second of stillness, their eyes locked and she smiled an awesome smile as she sank down onto him, sheathing herself over his silk and heat. Her eyes rolled back as he rocked up into her, flexing his hips to reach her deepest core. For a minute he was in command, lifting her, cradling her, giving everything of himself to her. Then she came back to herself and it was suddenly her muscles working him, her thrusts driving him deeper... She held his arms down, outstretched to either side, bending to kiss the hollow of his throat, his armpits.

"Now, Walter, come for me. Look into my eyes and come for me!"

He saw a bead of sweat slide down her arched throat, he saw her nipples harden as he watched: pink berries standing proud on her glistening breasts... He saw the flush of orgasm rouge her pale skin and then his own blood was roaring in his ears, his throat was raw with the scream he gladly gave her, and he came at her command.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The candles had burned low and the Persian shawls had been pulled from the sofa to do duty as sheets and blankets. There were pillows everywhere, and the room was redolent with the scent of sex and the rose-petal pot-pourri they had tumbled off the table and rolled on. A tousled blonde head was just visible under the silken fringe of one of the shawls. Walter stood by the tall window, looking out on the quiet pre-dawn street below. Moonlight, stronger than the guttering candles, washed over his nakedness. One hand rubbed idly at the bruise-marks of slim fingers around his biceps. He smiled to himself and looked down at his left foot. His silver toenails looked bizarrely beautiful in the cool light. He was deeply happy. Claimed, possessed, enchanted, but happy. Zerlina wanted all the love he could give her, amazingly she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Things would never be predictable, mundane or routine ever again. He fingered a bite mark on his shoulder and felt the contented ache of well-exercised muscles.

Glancing over at the makeshift bed, at his lover lying where they had fallen after her third assault on him that evening, he was taken aback to see the glint of her feline eyes watching him possessively.

"Get back here, boy... " purred low and dangerously.

"Yes, Mistress."

THE END