A Feathered Fetish Ch. 01

"Are you OK in there?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, just fixing my lipstick," answered Fay as she reached under the sink and retrieved a large zip lock bag tapped beneath the basin. The bag was filled like a pillow with more of the red feathers.

Sarah was relieved to see the bathroom door finally open. Maybe they could talk. Maybe she could get her friend to move back in -- return back home.

Fay preened herself a little more. "You didn't need to come over."

"I, I, just wanted to see how things were. See how's your new place. It's, um, the bee's knees and all, but really. Come back."

"Look, I'm not gay. I mean, if I were, you would certainly would be the one. I mean even with what happened to me -- I guess I'm surprised we're even still speaking, but I guess I'm passed that now and I just need to get my life back on track. Somehow I feel like I've had some revelations about me and figured out more since I moved out. I guess I just need some time."

Sarah searched for that look she used to get. It just wasn't there anymore. A little bit of oil from the bottle, actually more like an unperceivable film, coated her gloved fingertips. She reached for Fay's cheek stroking it gently saying, "There's a smudge." The oil rubbed off and down to the side of the lips. She needed more to go across the lips. Would such a small amount work? "Please don't go out tonight."

There was a pause, but then Fay broke free of the spell. "Look I've got to hurry. I wasn't planning on stopping by home, but I like this guy. What do you think of the dress?"

"Impeccable as always. You always could stitch an outfit. Look, just give us a chance. My Grandmother left me a beautiful ranch up in Navato. Let's go this weekend. It's like staying at a B and B." Sarah's eyes widened with hope, her face flush. She thought how desperate she was being. "I probably looked as red as beetroot. Look, a friend and lover like you is as rare as hen's teeth." The clichés kept piling on in her mind. She stopped to clear her throat.

Fay's eyes flinched. She fought an invisible force, maybe it was Sarah's voice or faint memories stirred up by their talk. Fay then took control again. "I like my new place. Stop coming by here -- I mean at least for a while -- while I figure things out. Let's just be professional at work."

"But you need me to guide you through this. You're still adjusting. It's a big change in your life." Sarah saw she was failing. Everything was falling apart.

Fay opened the front door. "You're not my chaperon. Some space. Please Sarah."

The two women descended the front stoop to the sidewalk.

Sarah wanted to push her friend back into the house, but anger would not be good without way more oil. Her friend smiled back and got into a roadster with its top down. A noticeable jig took place as her friend slid her bustle down and back into a custom opening in the driver's seat where the lumbar support was removed.

Fay gave a wave as she drove off.

Sarah weekly gestured back as the love of her life and her hope for the future sped away. She threw the empty bottle against the sidewalk shattering the glass.

"Damn it!" She corrected herself with a weak murmur, "darn it."

*****

Under festooning lights decorating a narrow alley of romantic restaurants near the financial district, Fay and Andy sat sharing a bottle of wine. They set their menus aside.

"Fay, can I ask," said Andy, giving a quick eye dart to her skirt.

"You want to know about my shoes right?" Fay said sticking a toe out from under the tablecloth. She tried to smile, but it was obvious that 'the talk' was about to start. "I know, I know. My dress -- the bustle."

Andy gave a quick shrug and then sipped his drink.

"Maybe I just like being different. You don't like it?" Fay said to put him on the spot.

"No, no. Just wondered. I heard you started wearing it just before the Holidays and kept with it since."

"Tell you what. You keep doing what you're doing and I'll show you more of my outfit later."

They smiled at each other.

Across the street, straining to see down the row of restaurants with their outside seating, Sarah sat in her car watching. "Shit." She bit her lower lip. "Shoot. I could spit nails."

Knocking on the passenger window startled her.

It was Ashleigh from work, a woman that most men avoided because she was just too tall. Everyone felt dwarfed by her height. Women were flat-out rendered tiny elves by her stature. Giving her a spear and a Rachael Welch cavewoman outfit from the movie "One Million Years B.C." would complete her stereotypical Amazon woman quality. Sarah remembered how the name Amazon was actually a cruel nickname kept a secret from the woman.

Sarah pressed a button and lowered the passenger window half way. "Ashleigh?" she said, uncomfortable and surprised.

"Sarah? I thought that was you! What are you doing here? I got some Thai food, you want to share?" She held-up a plastic bag with a stack of red thank you's printed on it. "My place is right around the corner. Well actually a mile a way. I took the bus."

"I was about to head off," replied Sarah starting her car. "Fat's in the fire and all that." She shrugged.

Ashleigh flinched clearly not understanding the odd remark. Then she heard the engine. "No. No," said Ashleigh reaching over the open window's glass to undo the lock followed by a quick door opening and a fast grab for the passenger seat. "Come-on. It'll be fun." Ashleigh looked at Sarah, who was visibly frustrated. "You have a smudge," added the Amazon, reaching a leather gloved hand out to Sarah's face for a quick touch. "I've missed you. It's been almost a year. Give-up on Fay." Ashleigh gave a head move towards the romantic brick alleyway that Sarah obviously spied over.

Sarah felt so much shame that someone else would know anything of what she was doing there. Had she been that transparent?

"Spend the night with me," said Ashleigh brushing Sarah's face again.

"Sorry, the bank's closed." Sarah faced her hands, grabbing the steering wheel. She squinted hard and shook her head. "Look, I know you've carried a torch for me for a while, and how, but, but. I'm all balled-up right now." A feeling of longing kicked in with an urge to follow, to be led by someone, anyone. No. Not anyone. It had to be Ashleigh. San Francisco felt so cold at night. Sarah wiped a tear from her eye and noticed what she thought was a bit of oily make-up on her face. She thought for a moment, but it was more of an empty moment staring off into space. She didn't know what to think about. She was certain that she had had an important thought a second ago -- an urgent concern. Her mind was clear now. She looked at Ashleigh sitting next to her. This woman -- albeit Amazon-sized -- was so beautiful. Sarah rubbed the oily make-up into her own skin to hide whatever blotch might be there and then she stared into Ashleigh's eyes. "I'm so tied up in knots inside."

Sarah prayed that it would be unnoticed that she quickly switched to looking at Ashleigh's nose and lips because the eyes were just too cold and creepy. She felt a gloved hand on her face again and felt the urge to love once more. The eyes suddenly looked warm and inviting. How strange her perception changed so fast.

*****

Fay gave herself one final look in her bedroom mirror needing so badly to have the rest of the night to go well. Dinner conversation with Andy had set a good tone for things to move quickly. They held hands while they walked. They kissed at the front door. There was definitely a spark, but she hid it from him to keep him a little on edge -- actually to keep herself under control. She knew she was reaching a point where anything could make her feel horny. Every thought was becoming more distracting and harder to keep hidden from Sarah's nosey nature.

Fay checked her make-up and put on some long red satin gloves. She was beyond horny now -- intensely so. Why deny it? That morning, she had even considered driving across town to go blow Sarah, but girl-on-girl action just didn't seem enough anymore. She felt frustrated. She no longer could even get-off with masturbation. She had given up on that option months ago when she spent an entire weekend finding moments away from Sarah's hounding nature to rub herself -- and rub hard -- but never reaching orgasm. She countered her thoughts for a second: maybe girl-on-girl would be good.

Her thoughts switched back to Andy, who so far made her feel a little calmer despite her nervousness. It was like her body was pushing her to mate. She felt like a wild animal in heat. She hoped what she was about to do was right.

She yelled through the door to the next room as she checked her red stockings down to her red high heeled shoes. "Andy, there's something I need to tell you."

"Yeah," replied Andy, clinging some glasses together. Sounds of him pouring wine followed.

Fay emerged from the bedroom wearing a red teddy, matching opera gloves, red stockings and garter belts. Her fetish high heels gave her an exaggerated showgirl's height.

Andy froze for a moment.

"I have a certain fetish that I can't hide from you," she said walking over to him.

His eyes lowered down to her body.

She watched as Andy studied her. She could see how he was responding to her. How his eyes stared at her stockings, moved up to the gartered tops maybe even looked at her crotch for a second. Then his eyes focused on the garter belts connecting her stocking tops to her bathing suit cut lingerie. She suspected he would notice that there was more there than some simple naughty silky teddy. Despite the dim candle lights, he would certainly notice that it wasn't silk. It was made of red feathers. That should confuse him a bit -- maybe even draw him in.

She ran her dainty hands across the feathers that hid her breasts, lowering her fingertips over the softer smaller down feathers covering her tummy while she turned her hips slightly showing a protruding bird's tail covering her behind. Turning away, she bowed slightly so Andy could see how her butt cheeks were revealed just under her feathered bustle. Her shoulders twisted allowing her to look over her tail at him while a statin gloved hand stroked the side of her body down over the feathered protrusion adding a strong twitch as her fingertips left the edges of the longest contour feathers. She had practiced the tail twitch many times. Her muscles could give the underside that extra bit of movement that showed something unnatural that her hands obviously couldn't have added with a simple tug. It was a twitch that required some extra flexing her butt cheeks couldn't have done either. It would all lure him in.

"Touch it Andy," she said softly.

Andy stepped behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and kissing her neck.

She pressed her tail back against his pants. He would feel the extra mass of the tail now. Curiosity would make him grab the tail. Yes. He was now running his fingers over her soft down feathers underneath.

"Oh!" she cooed feeling him cup her butt cheeks. Her hips wiggled as his hands slipped under the tail giving it a little lift. He would notice the weight now. He would notice the warmth it gave off. He would wonder how it felt so alive. She twitched her muscles again. He stepped back.

"Did I surprise you?" she said looking over her shoulders at him. She gave him a sly smile showing that she knew a secret she wanted to share.

"It's so real," he said.

"Don't stop now. Touch it, silly."

He pulled her back to him, pressing her tail against the front of his paints. His hands gave her tail a squeeze. His touch felt overwhelming. She had waited months for this, in fact almost a year of keeping Sarah at bay. Week after week, Fay had lied left-and-right about the recent changes in her body. She denied it all to Sarah: how her tail got plumper, her feathers got stiffer, and her desires to mate got stronger. Somehow Sarah's wants didn't matter anymore.

Fay switched her thoughts back to Andy. He was studying her as he kissed down her back. Most likely he was going through a list of possibilities starting with the fact that the tail couldn't be just a lump of silicon. She felt him give her butt and tail a quick jiggle. She liked it. He had to be hooked now -- fascinated -- intrigued -- wanting and lusting. She did a grind against his paints.

"I'm probably the only girl you'll hear say this: I like it in the rear."

One of Andy's hands stroked the large top feathers of her tail with one hand while the other ran over the plumule feathers that covered her flesh underneath. A finger slid between the quills and pushed unintentionally into a warm slit. She could feel him pause and explore. Yes sweetie, it's warm. Yes, it's slightly wet with me thinking about you. And yes, it'll get wetter if -- oh yes -- you keep doing just that.

"Ummm, Andy," she purred, leaning forward to reach her hands out to a wall for support. She pushed her butt out and with a long glimpse over her left shoulder, her smokey colored eyes flashed pure seduction at him. She lifted a leg folding its heel to the underside of her tail like a flamingo. She then dramatically stepped that leg out to move closer to the wall, all while keeping eye contact.

Andy moved with her in a smooth dance step.

She faced the wall and pressed her chest against the surface then rubbed up and down as Andy watched silently, totally lost in the moment. He stepped forward some more to keep his paints pressed against her tail watching as her lithe body arched so that her feathered bump pushed its underside against his crotch. Her gloved hands glided up the apartment wall as she raised them above her head volunteering to be frisked. She looked back at him again in total submission. She felt his fingers sliding inside her tail. She was getting wetter now. She heard his pant belt being undone. He was going to do her. It had all worked. She had him now.

"Gently Andy. It's just as sensitive as my other vagina in front."

"You are a sick girl."

"I'm a hen, Andy. A hengirl, actually. Be my rooster and pump me. I really need this." She lowered her head between her raised arms, straightened her elbows and knees to brace for insertion. Her tail wiggled with the very tips of its long contour feathers pointing up to the ceiling.

She felt him try to direct her body to lean over more. She complied forcing her hips further away from the wall while sliding her hands down to bow even lower. "Yes, Andy. Yes," she said feeling a firm cock stroke her feathers underneath. Her rear end angled up to give better access. She felt him move his member away. He was going for the butt hole.

"No Andy, the tail. The tail." She stifled her breathing when she felt his cock plow through the soft down feathers plunging deep into the tight slit he had fingered before.

"Oh!" she gasped pushing away from the wall and leading him in an awkward dance a few steps towards the glass dining room table. She pushed her body down onto the cold glass sheet. Her arms swung out across the freezing slab knocking away napkins and placemats. While she forced the bend in her lap to press into the table's edge, she did a push-up with her arms for a tight yoga arch. She kept her tail feathers pointing to the ceiling and bent her back even more until her shoulder blades touched the tip of her tail. She could feel every detail of his shaft sliding deep inside her: its wider head, its blood vessel contours along the shaft's surface. He was probably wondering how this could be? How could this feel so warm, wet and real? He was also probably enjoying it too much to stop. He began to repeatedly lunge into her now. She felt almost certain that she owned him, but not quiet fully yet. Her tail muscles tightened around his cock. What was going to shock him even more was when -- and there it was -- her inner hen walls involuntarily throbbed. He would certainly notice that. He kept pumping. Good, he couldn't stop either.

"Fuck me hard Andy. Pump everything you got inside me. Go faster. Deeper. Be an animal with me. Oh! Ah! Ah! Yes!"

Andy leaned over pinning her hands to the table. The tips of her toes dug into her dainty shoes as her heels withdrew up from the stilettos letting a shoe fall sideways. She kicked it away and ejected the other as well.

He let go of a wrist long enough to push her back down against the table. His hands grabbed her wrists on either side and pressed them against her hips. She couldn't move even if she struggled. A strong shoulder twist tested that for a second.

She loved being held down so firmly. She loved being forced. She loved feeling herself being so vigorously nailed. And now his rod shoved its way deep inside her feathered tail and held there. She felt him pulse in sync with her body. Warmth squirted inside her. Every tick on the clock was another pulse of cum. The whole idea sent her over the edge and her hen tail instinctively squeezed harder.

She screamed out and gave her tail a good shake, enjoying the feeling of being skewered to the furniture. She felt used. She felt controlled. He held her down so wonderfully and firmly as she writhed helplessly in pleasure enjoying the way her tail repeatedly quivered inside. It all hit her so fast. When her body went limp, she rested her feathered breasts against the slippery glass tabletop. Her opera gloves had slid down to her wrists and the skin exposed at her arms, her shoulders and tops of her breasts squeaked against the steamy glass. Her heart continued to pound. It was all she could hear. The left side of her face felt the hard surface, but she was too tired to move. The grip he held on her wrists relaxed. Her toes barley touched the floor. His pumping must have slid her further across the table. She felt his deflating member slide out of her tail.

Finally, her boundless thoughts of fornication subsided offering some relief from months of frustration. Logic started to flood into her mind. Sanity cleared the weeks of intense and growing sexual fog. She breathed deeply but softly, as her body remained ravaged on the glass surface. Pulling her hands free from him, she slowed her breathing and pulled back a lock of hair from her face.

Had this been a good idea? It felt good, but now she wasn't so certain. Sex guilt -- why couldn't she just be happy? After all, the constant pangs of horniness had been too much. No one could of held those screaming urges off. She shook her head to stop the growing voices in her mind that always needed to justify things. She took one more deep breath and looked up at Andy as he leaned over and caressed her head. Maybe she could actually think clearly again. Maybe she could reason out what to do now.

She felt him stroking her smooth skin down her back and over her waist to where her feathers started. He was probably wondering what to think of her, something like: what was she exactly? She could imagine him wondering: what had he just fucked?

A pain hit her -- ruining her bliss. Her tail muscles tightened with another contraction. She had been told about this -- actually it had only been hinted at. Sarah always held back the details. Fay hated the distrust. Just tell me what I am now! No more lies! Another pang hit hard. It confirmed everything: Andy was the one.

Fay's soul, body and even animalistic hen side of her had fallen in love. The pain pinched again. She remained bent over the table as she flexed her left then right butt cheeks. She tightened the tail muscles searching for where the pain was originating. She gave all her human and non-human muscles a squeeze on both sides. With a transfer of her weight to her right leg, she gave those muscles a strong flex then focused back on the other. Her rear end squirming about must have given Andy a nice show.