tagIllustratedWhen The Eagle Flies

When The Eagle Flies

byBlack Tulip©

This story was inspired by a piece of college tradition from Cloudy and the beautiful illustration made by Rhinoguy. Thanks to both of them.

* * * * *

You want to know the story of the eagle? Ok, just realize that this story starts a long time ago. So long ago that the gods themselves still walked the earth. You have read stories about the gods of the Greeks and I know you were interested in the gods of the Vikings. But what do you know of the Roman gods?

I think everybody has heard of Diana, the goddess of the hunt. Mercurius, the god of commerce and trade is well known too. The two most familiar ones are, no doubt, Venus and Mars, the goddess of love and the god of war. In this day and age their signs are used as symbols for male and female. Well, this story is not about them. It's about the biggest and most powerful of them all: Jupiter, the king of the gods.

Did I say this story was about Jupiter? I was lying. I will tell you about Jupiter's pet. Many of those ancient gods had pets. Diana was often seen in the company of a stag and Mercurius carried a staff with two snakes. Venus loved doves and Mars was said to have a thing for wolves. Pffft, he is even rumored to have fathered two sons who grew up with the wolves... I'm not sure if their mother was a wolf though.

And Jupiter? Jupiter's pet was the eagle.

That's right. That big fierce bird with its razor-sharp beak and knifelike talons, a wingspan of more than seven feet and eyes that can detect the smallest movements from way up in the sky. Jupiter was a big god, so of course he had a big pet. The bird always followed him around, no matter where the god went or what he was up to.

I said "what he was up to" on purpose. Jupiter or Jove was a bit of a rascal. Forever after the ladies, human ladies preferably. Even though his wife, the beautiful Juno, always found him out. No matter the clever ploys, Juno caught him. She never kicked him out though; she vented her anger on the women. Easier to pay back a human than the king of the gods I guess. I have to say it; she was a jealous and vindictive bitch.

Nevertheless, Jupiter kept hunting the ladies and his faithful eagle accompanied him. Nobody knows for sure, but it is said that the eagle learned his superior hunting from the lady-killer himself. That's why the appearance of an eagle came to be associated with seduction and adultery. You see, the bird could not disguise itself. Even if Jove lured a maiden in the form of a white bull, the eagle remained an eagle.

Over time the gods ceased to walk the earth, but their pets remained. And some of them carried a remnant of their lost owner with them. To hunt and shoot a stag is still seen as a big feat, men even mount the head of the poor beast on the wall of their homes to show their prowess. Why? Because it used to be Diana's special pet of course! And doves, doves are forever the symbol of love.

The same goes for the eagle. A bird of kings, symbol of power. But, there is another belief about this bird of prey. And that is what this story is about. You've heard of it, but as far as I know it's only our small town somewhere in the U.S.A. where the people remember.

Well, maybe not all inhabitants know. But those that attend our university all get to hear about the tradition connected to that huge statue of a golden eagle atop of the main administration building. The predator is depicted with its wings spread, ready to take off and fly at any minute. Yes, exactly, the legend that says it will fly when a virgin graduates.

Go on, have a laugh. Every student that heard that story for the first time has snickered. Of course there's no way a girl will stay a virgin once she enters university life. Way too many studly students around for that to happen. Or scrumptilicious girls for that matter. But you heard the rumor, too.

Well, we all know the odd one. Every now and then you encounter a person who does not conform to the rules of the group. They do not wear the same type of clothes; they do not share an interest for the same topics. And they most certainly do not take part in the exploration of drugs, sex and rock and roll.

They are the shy girls, the ones that don't fit in. If you ever had such a girl in your classes you suspected she was still a virgin and some of the men probably had wagers who could take her cherry or how long it would take before one of them could bed her.

Most of those girls did lose their virginity one way or the other. Sometimes because of such a bet, sometimes because they turned out to be really nice after all and sometimes, well, sometimes you just didn't know.

Whatever the case, the eagle always stood on top of the building. Of course it did, the bloody thing was cast in bronze for Pete's sake! OK, not always because it had to be taken off every once in a while for cleaning, or polishing or whatever. But apart from those times, it was always firmly fixed to the roof.

Ah, I see you are getting irritated. "Where is this tale going?" you want to know.

Now, it's my turn to snicker. All those adolescents boasting they bedded a virgin. You never questioned them, did you? Were you there, to witness the act? The girls in question would keep quiet. Or they would confirm the tale of the boys. Why not? It could make them part of the group at last, maybe. And who would believe them if they told the truth?

You're not believing me, are you? I can see it in your face. You think I'm a liar, fantasizing, a wacky old crone. What if I told you I know? I mean, really know. For a fact, witnessed with my own eyes? Actually, you should call me featherbrained, honest.

Hmmm, where shall I start? Yes, I think with my last year. That is when it happened after all. You know I majored in history? Even back then I was immensely interested in the ancient history of the Roman Empire. In particular the Roman Pantheon had my interest and that's how I got interested in the statue of the big eagle in the first place.

Apart from the fact that I think it's beautiful, it started to fuel my imagination. I had been reading about the numerous adventures of Jupiter and I wondered what it must have been like for that big bird of prey to watch it all. Perhaps it even shared the lust of its master, the excitement of the hunt for virgin flesh.

Was it possible that some of that excitement, that energy had been trapped inside the symbol? I mulled the possibilities over and over and in time I started to watch the statue. A bird of prey like that would not be easy to catch, so I began to check at odd times.

After a few months I thought I was successful. One night I went for my regular walk around campus. It was perfect because it was at the same time my surveillance route and my exercise. Even then, I hated sports, but I did want to keep my weight down as much as possible.

What? Scared? No, I was not scared. You see, I used to be one of those odd girls. Too shy, too brainy to be of interest to the other students. I see you're smiling. Hard to believe, is it? Well, it's true. I was still a virgin and I was what men nowadays call Rubenesque.

Anyway, one night, as I came around the corner of one of the dormitories I looked up at the roof ahead. For a minute I froze in my tracks, the statue was gone! I blinked in disbelief and sure enough, the eagle stood with its wings spread. It must have been a trick of the light.

A few weeks after that, I missed the statue again. It was later than usual because of all the festivities I wanted to avoid. I'll admit it to you: my heart hammered in my chest, as it was Halloween. I did get a bit scared that night. Next morning there was a story circulating about some boisterous students that had draped a nightblue cloth over the eagle. They had used that trick to scare one of the virgins into allowing them access to her body.

The rumor had me hot and squirming. I was still in possession of my virginity but not because I wanted to be, I longed for some man to take it away. Hearing how the two students had coaxed Virginia, that really was her name, to shed all her clothes in the little park across the admin building was highly exciting. I heard her telling it to some of the other girls.

The boys told her the bird was on the prowl and she had better let them have her cherry than risk that big bird sticking its beak into her. I did wonder about that, but Virginia said she was scared silly and let them fondle her breasts, touch her nipples, kiss her neck and finally she allowed them to put her on her back on one of the benches.

She must have been turned on, because the telling got a lot more colorful. Looking back now, I think she was dishing up a fantasy. Having two men touching and stroking her in a public place till she was a mass of quivering flesh, begging them to fill her pussy with something other than their fingers.

Whatever the truth was, I found it peculiar that on two occasions I thought I saw an empty space instead of the statue. And, sure enough, over the following months it happened a few more times. And each time there was a virgin less on campus. But I never really saw the eagle some place else. I never could be sure it really was not there, on the roof. At that point it could just as well have been a figment of my imagination.

In the meantime I studied hard and graduation day was getting nearer and nearer. You know, the funny thing was that I was getting a bit nervous. Not about finishing my education on time or with acceptable grades. No, I was getting uneasy about that story. That the eagle would fly on the day a virgin graduated. I would definitely die from embarrassment if the damned bird would fly up at my graduation. I was convinced everybody would instantly know the pathetic virgin had to be me.

Finally my study was finished. All my papers were accepted, graded and had passed muster. The next day would be the official gathering, well, you know the works. I had my robe ready, my parents were coming and my aunts and uncles would be waiting for a big family get-together at my parent's house afterwards. All I had to do was to get through this last night on campus.

For the last two days the eagle had been gone from the roof. At first I thought I had my proof at last. And in broad daylight as well. It turned out the statue needed repairs of some sort, I don't remember what, but there was something with the bracketing I think. Anyway, they had the imposing bird hoisted from the roof and temporarily placed on the lawn near the front gate. That way, everybody could still see the symbol of our school. Even on this last evening I made my customary round. I had gotten used to walking around in the dark, with no other company than the sounds of the wind in the trees and the occasional laughter from one of the dormitories.

It was late, after midnight when I got to the front lawn. I remember laughing softly as I realized that there actually would not be an eagle on the roof when I graduated in the morning. It was funny how the reality coincided with the old legend. But at least it was impossible now for the bird to shame me by flying from the roof at my graduation.

After all those months of watching the bird and contemplating its nature, it was too good an opportunity to pass it up. I took a deep breath and walked up to it. The statue was really huge. I mean, it looks big up there, but if you stand next to it, it towers over you. I stood on my toes and it was still taller than me.

I remember putting my hand out. I wanted to touch it, it was so beautiful. The fierce head, the enormous wings spread wide so I could find shelter under it, the curve of its breast, I stroked it all. I couldn't get enough of it. And you know what? The bronze felt warm to my touch. And after a while, I fancied it felt more like soft feathers than hard metal.

I'm not sure what happened, but when I was able to think rationally again, I figured out it had to have something to do with sexual energy. Maybe that's what I brought with me. It's very well possible. I was, what? Twenty? And still a virgin, but a very reluctant one. On the other hand, the centuries of hunting female flesh with Jupiter could have charged it just as easily.

I stroked the breast feathers when something unexpected happened. The huge wings folded, not to the side, but around me. You don't believe me, do you? I can't blame you, but it's the truth. I was scared out of my skin and I tried to walk away, but I couldn't.

The minute I stepped back, the imposing head came down and the sharp beak hovered over me. I was terrified and stood rooted to the spot. An eagle is equipped to tear its prey to pieces. For a seven-foot eagle a human being is the right size for prey.

Well, obviously it didn't tear me to pieces. But its beak sliced through my clothes and my dress fell away from my body, leaving me in panties. It was summer, a warm night, so I wasn't wearing a bra. Nobody did in those days. Not if you wanted to belong, and I did want that.

Next I felt the gentle brush of birds feathers over my back, running the length of my spine, making my skin tingle. My nipples reacted to my being exposed like that. I mean, I was standing nearly naked on the front lawn. It was dark, a new moon perhaps, but still, if somebody would walk by I would be in plain view. My light skin a pale smudge against the dark feathers.

Yes, I turned around and stood with my back resting on the soft breast feathers of a giant eagle. An eagle who was stroking my breasts with its wingtips. Don't giggle. It's the most delicious feeling. Have your lover touch you with feathers sometime. You'll see.

Perhaps a few heartbeats, maybe a bit longer, I gave in to the pleasure I was feeling, but then common sense kicked in. I had to get away, sneak into my room and put some clothes on. But as soon as the thought entered my head the sharp beak came down to rest in my neck. I was afraid to step away. And before long the stroking feathers were so very nice, I wanted to enjoy them just a few moments longer.

How long I stood there? Getting fondled by bird wings? I honestly don't know. I do know how excited it made me. The wingtips stroking the front of my body from my throat to my feet, up and down, up and down. It was almost spellbinding and after a while I turned again so I could press my breasts against its warm body and feel the stroke of the wings on my backside, brushing my bottom, teasing the backs of my legs.

I was getting wet; I could feel it welling up between my legs. I couldn't help myself. The fierce eyes were watching me intently and it really seemed as if the bird forced me to turn around once more. Its beak came down over my shoulder to nudge my nipples till they stood stiff and dark, sending sparks of pleasure down my body to my core.

Whether is was the eagle or me, I don't remember, but at one point I lost my panties and had my arms around it's neck, offering it my entire body as its head rested on top of mine. I felt so sexy I spread my legs as well. That pose didn't last long. My juices were running down my thighs and I was aching to feel something inside me. It was no longer enough to rub my clit or insert a finger. I wanted to be filled, completely.



Biting my lip to keep my moaning inside, I suddenly noticed the claws of the eagle. The talons were huge and curved. I tried to ride the knuckle of a claw, but it was not long enough. Then the bird flexed its claw, the talon seemed to retract as if it were the claw of a cat and the remaining digit was perfect.

I turned around, got a hold on the breast feathers and slowly worked myself on the stiff member. I was so turned on with the feeling of something other than my own finger entering me that I could not stop, even if I had wanted to. I guess I deflowered myself but it felt so good and once I was firmly impaled I felt the wings folding over my back, shielding me from the world.

At that point I was sufficiently aroused that I couldn't have cared who saw me. The fullness was soon not enough, so I started moving, slowly and carefully at first. It didn't really hurt and the more I moved the better it felt. Apart from being filled, the greatest feeling was the feathers that tickled my clit. I came hard, better than ever before. I think I even kissed the bird on his feathers, stroking his breast and his wingtips, still riding that claw till I came again, almost bending double from the spasms.

No doubt you heard the rest as part of the school's history. Yes, the girl they found one graduation day on the front lawn was me. They thought I had been drinking too much and had been dumped by some boys in front of the eagle as part of a joke.

I didn't really care much what they thought. I knew what had happened. The eagle had been flying, well at least flapping his wings to prevent a virgin from graduating. I always thought he looked a bit more gilded after that night. You know, as if my virgin's blood had fed his energy.

Yes, of course that's the reason I always carry a few eagle feathers with me. And no, I was never again considered boring after that. I think some of his appeal rubbed off on me.

You're going to graduate next month, aren't you? Are you a virgin still? Ah. Now, that has me smiling.

* * * * *

I hope you enjoyed this story. Please let me know your opinion by voting. Placing a public comment or sending feedback would be nice too.

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