New Slave

The teasing touch along his leg-so sensitive!-brought forth a gentle growl from his throat, but a lightly playful sound, encouraging. Ah! So his Mistress wanted to play? Saticoy knew how to do that. His mouth, so warm against her cool sweet , mo, moved to engulf her breast, his tongue drawing dainty circles around the perfect nipple. And then he leaned upwards lightly, and blew upon it, cooling the recently warmed skin; and then leaned down to set his lips he dhe delicacy once again.

After giving both left and right side equal treatment and affection, he moved downwards over her stomach. So sleek, so strong were the muscles, somewhere in the back of his mind he could not help but be impressed. His lips found her navel, and he traced the tip of his tongue around it, and then gently kissed it.

Hands and mouth found their way back up to the young mistress's face. A hand gently cupped her cheek, and he leaned down so softly kiss the perfect lips.

Her gentle hands moved to her waist to pull her skirt down now, though as his lips came down upon her breast her hands fell to her sides, and she let out a moan. Oh how warm his mouth felt against her skin, and how prefect his tongue felt as it came to touch it. She made a soft whimpering noise as he moved to the next, her arms now wrapping themselves behind his neck. She took a moment to pet the soft fur that covered him, and savor how its felt around her, so unlike anything she had even experienced before.

Daesare’s platinum locks fanned out around her, and as she writhed slightly in pleasure, her toes curled just a little bit, her back arching a little incline into his mouth. Her nipples, a faint, beautiful powdery pink, just the right size, were hardened peaks now, as they had been for some time. The look of childlike innocence on her face in the midst of the passion was remarkable, how she could look so old and so, so young at the same time.

As his mouth came up to meet hers, she she snaked her tongue back into his mouth, comfortably probing his mouth with an egar desire. He felt so good, his mouth so hot, sweet. He made her so happy, so aroused, she realized she had been being selfish….she would make it up to him later. As her kiss deepened intensely, her arms unwrapped themselves from behind his back, and she placed her thumbs in the hem of her skirt.

It was easy enough to slip it from her figure, revealing her soft, well shaped thighs and the panties she had been wearing beneath. They were made of lacy, black material, and allowed everything to be showed through there transparent delicate fabric. They were tied at the sides with soft, satin ribbons, lose, nearly off. It was easy to see now that her head was the only place that bore hair, so unlike Saticoy. They were soaked in her arousal, ever growing.

So young, and yet, so old-but he had already decided his mistress was divine and could not age; and even if he did, he knew he would be devoted to her until he could think nor feel any more, even if he should be sold. The heart within him had been hungry, and she fed it with passion; and she was a feast to the starving.

Too beautiful, too beautiful! Such desire, conmingled with such signs of innocence. The body of a youthful lady, containing the heart of a passionate grown woman. She was a perfect paradox, a sweet puzzle that was his to solve.

He felt a heavy weight between his own legs; achingly sensitive, begging to be soothed. But no. Not yet. He had much to do before he might be fortunate enough to satiate that desire. First, there was another, heavenly task before him. One that he enjoyed perhaps almost as much as the final act itself. After all, his textured tongue was well suited to such a purpose.

Too beautiful to resist, even if he had wanted to. One hand ran lightly down her side, and his mouth ran down the other, leaving kisses along the svelte waist. With one motion, he loosened the ribbon that bound one hip in, and with his teeth, he gently loosened the other. He returned to her belly button then, and his mouth made its way downward, his chin gently nudging the garment away. And there was the fruit of his search; smooth as a summer plum and twice as sweet. In contrast with the rest of her skin, this area was quite warm.

He placed a hand upon her thigh; strong and soft all at once, his thumb running down inwards. But it was his tongue that found her sweetness first, gently at first, lightly.

He gave a moan of longing; he felt his limbs were on fire with the sheer want of her. Her touches were cool through his fur, almost too pleasant to bear. But he continued, his own actions a torment to himself. Every waft of her scent, every sound she breathed, every movement of pleasure she made, every glimpse of her beauty, and now, the taste of her lust, all added to the need he felt growing within him. Too beautiful! How could any mortal survive a game of love with this Mistress?

His tongue caressed the soft mound before him, and then gently pressed inward. His mouth searched for that center of the sweetness before him, probing, tasting, savoring.

Oh, the ecstasy. Daesare couldn’t remember the last time she had wanted anything so badly as she wanted Saticoy right then. All of that soft, warm fur, and that tongue, feeling unlike anything she had felt before on her soft, unblemished skin. He was too prefect, his touch, too pleasing, and the desire he instilled inside of her easily washed away and conservations or doubts. Never before had she felt this aroused, his skills were unmatched by any of the numerous slaves she owned.

And he was all hers, she owned his very soul, yet now as far she was concerned, he certainly wouldn’t be treated as any mere pleasure slave. No, she would shower him with love and take him with her wherever she went. Her bed would be theirs, and her lust belong to him. Usually slaves were given few, or no worldly possessions, and Daesare planned to end this in Saticoy’s case. He would have anything he wanted, as long as she had him.

As his hand trailed across her side, she shivered visibly, she was drawn near the edge already and as his teeth pulled her lacy undergarment away, she was a bit surprised. Shifting herself just slightly, she moved out of them, so her whole, gloriously naked form could rest on those delicate sheets, and with her writhing in pleasure she could feel the heavenly fabric move over every bit of her skin.

She was quite hot, and certainly very, very wet, as Saticoy’s tongue came out to lick her tender flesh, she shuddered in pleasure, pushing her perfect little hips down passionately so he hit just the right spot. She though she almost might have peaked, right there, but held back. Though truly it wouldn’t have matteredesaresare was one of those lucky, lucky females who could have many strong orgasms without tire or a decrease in pleasure. Which, was quite a burden upon those pleasuring her.

She would have moaned, but no sound came, her hands moved down to drunkenly stroke Saticoy’s head. “Yes, Saticoy…” She said, breathily. It took great control for her not to move her hips into his touch, though for him she would suppress it.
And there, there was the sweetest morsel of flesh! A nugget of gold within a cave of silver, flowing with juices like honey. He pressed against it, his tongue pressing, teasing. Little circles were drawn around the center of delight, quick flickers over it, light and teasing, deep and lusty. Then around the edges, lapping up the essence of passion, to give a moment's respite, and to build the tension.

All these things had once been tedious lessons. But now, here, for Daesare, they were a profound desire to please. Her hands in his hair, the sound of her voice sent burning, yearning sensations down to each nerve ending. Every fibre of his being wanted this Mistress, so simply end the games, and to pounce upon her, to be rid of these horrible, hateful pants (he'd liked them only a short time ago, what had happened?) to feel the air upon his fur, and to-
Not yet. Not unless she commanded it, not until that time.

Still, in the meantime, there was deliciousness to be had. His tongue sought out the sweet place she had so kindly made accessable by tilting her hips. A hand caressed the inside of her thigh ans he resumed his tasting, and the other held the daintily curved hip. He could feel beads of sweat down his spine and along his forehead; it wasn't that it was overly warm in here, but his blood boiled with passion for this Mistress. If he'd had another Mistress, he wasn't aware. There was certainly a teacher at some point, but that woman hadn't really owned him. Saticoy knew, as his tongue worked furiously to bring a measure of delight to Daesare, that he belonged to her. He was hers. She was his mistress, and he was her pet. And he wante no no other way. Once he'd longed for freedom, but what did he want freedom from? This? Not likely!


Feeling his hands through her hair, and that probing tongue sent her far over the edge. Oracles closed tightly, and her fingers gripped slightly Saticoy’s back. Her body shook slightly, her muscles tightening momentarily, and her sweet juices coming forth. Her eyes were heavily, visibly cloudy now, with few definite lines in the iris, and her skin warm to the touch. Oh his touch was so prefect, so wonderful. Her back arched slightly, a true sign of her delight, and she emitted a soft, whimpering purr.

Her lust, though still burning bright, was ebbed slightly now. With a tender, desirable passion in her cute, delicate voice, she issued her command. “Saticoy, love, remove that obstruction” by this of coarse, she meant those pants. Damn those pants! “And lie beside me.” her breath came in light pants, removing her hands from him, and placing them on his shoulders, already turning him slightly.

Now he would have his payoff, she would partake of him wholly as she had so desired to. She noticed the perspiration on him, yes, she to would have been perspiration, if she had the ability to, though she did not. She licked her lips suggestively, a look of predatory hunger now in her eyes.