Seductress

Your mouth says, "No." Your mind says, Where exactly're we going with this, lady?

"I'll tell you. The medium that pre-dated these others was an inkwell... and a writing quill."

You nod.

"...Uh-huh...?"

You feel something prickly scrawl along your back.

"Ooooh!"

"I happen to have an inkwell and a quill right here, as it turns out, my doll. I'm writing some sweet nothings on your back..."

You feel her loom up behind you and murmur in your ear.

"...En français."

Your romantic juices set back to flowing. She tongues your lobe.

"Would you like me to read them to you?"

Another nod. "Very very much."

Kiss. "Very very well."

She glides up alongside you from behind, slips her arms around, and cups you.

"Je te trouve belle, ma chérie... une belle gosse..."

She goes on, as do her hands. They rove your front as she verbally enchants you, barely brushing your genitals, deliciously teasing and slowly driving you crazy just as before. A dreamy smile paints your lips. You find out she's through reciting you French flirtations as she kisses the nape of your neck and unhands you.

"Aww," you softly gush. "I was liking that."

Chuckle. "You'll like this too. Perhaps more."

Her voice floats back up to semi-normal volume. "Now as to the other point about the writing quill."

She pauses. You wait.

"...Yes?"

"You...do know what a quill is, do you not, my cherub?"

You dart your eyes back and forth under the blindfold.

"...A... big sharp thingy on a porcupine's back?"

"Mm, yes," she agrees, her tone suggesting to you that she's smiling. "But in this case, the other end happens to be...

"...A feather."

As if magically, by utterance of the word, you feel the feathery blade slice from the top of your slit right back and along your taint.

"WOOOO!" you jump, giving the shackles another good sharp rattle. "Oh my god!"

Your seductress laughs out loud at you. "Well now, that seems to've gotten a nice rise out of you, hm??"

"Holy f—! Omigod, lady, what the hell?!" you half-shout and half-laugh. Your Mistress laughs back, waving the now moist blade under your armpits, making you jump and giggle some more.

"You see? Fun, isn't it??" she calls over your titters. "I knew you'd like it!"

"I don't!" you insist through giggles.

"No??" she challenges. "How'd it feel on your pussy?!"

You latch onto a breath and try to think.

"I... I-I-I..."

"Don't remember?" The evil delight drips from her voice. You try to inhale and answer, but she squelches your chance.

"Let's jog your memory."

In the second it takes to process her words, you gasp.

"N—"

But it's too late; you hear the fffffffflick! and the soft but stiff quill titillates your cunt, taint and asshole a second time.

"EEEEEEEEEEE!!"

"How about now?" you hear her pose.

"You b—..." You throw out a desperate breath. "If you're trying to drive me crazy, it's working!"

"Excellent!" Ffffffffffflick!

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!! PLEASE!"

"Oh, very well," the seductress agrees. "We'll tone it down a bit."

You can only compute that she is kneeling or crouching on the desk facing you. Her non-quill-holding hand and arm envelop you from ribs to shoulder, embracing and holding you in place as she buries her face in your neck. She takes in your scent and exhales sultrily upon you, nosing, licking, biting your sweaty skin. Her deep, warm breaths both light you up and calm you down.

"Feel a bit better?" she hisses at your ear.

You give her another nod. "Uh-huh."

"Good. Now take it."

Ffffffffffffffffliiiiiiiiick.

You gasp, suck air through your teeth and loll your head back. It's torturous, hellish, and yet, so exhilarating... just so arousing. Mistress chuckles low and malicious, relishing her desired reaction. It's almost like an out-of-body experience. After climax one, you didn't know if you could take a second. Now you're so enamored of your cruel seductress, you pray for another, just imagining how it will rock your world. The deprivation of your sight sumptuously adds to all of your other senses to balance them. Just as you now (figuratively) see that she knew it would. And gives it all such a mystical feeling. So... so...

You're out of adjectives. That diabolical feather quill goes on terrorizing your nether-region, but you decide if you can take it, to just stand back and enjoy it. It's a brilliantly devilish element to blend and complement the Mistress' capers. You feel her press her breasts into your back, and you moan at the joy you're sure it's bringing you both. You wish furthermore you were able to touch, finger, lick, bite, suck and rampage her pussy.

Another feather flick, another cry of agonizing passion forced out of you, and the seductress decides to play a bit rougher. She digs her other set of nails into your clavicle, and her teeth into your neck, growling as she tugs at your flesh. Your shouts grow. The infernal quill on your helpless pussy draws out another layer of wetness, like a magnet. You must be drenched, you can only think. It annoys and irritates you a bit that your hostess knows just how to get you—and all but literally under your skin—but it stimulates and sets you afire far more.

She releases the tender, now hickeyed skin on your neck, sinking her teeth subsequently into your jaw. The biting keeps a backseat to the fiendish plume between your legs, but you hear her still as she rasps in your ear.

"Does that drive you crazy?" comes her satiny voice.

You vehemently nod your dizzy head. "Yes!"

"But you secretly love it."

"I... I-I don't..."

"Oh, no," she contradicts you. "No no no. I'm not asking you, darling. I'm..."

FFFFFFFFFLIIIIICK.

"...Telling you."

You toss back your head. "OH GOD!"

Her chuckles grow more and more malevolent, loving having you—physically and sexually—just where she wants you.

"You thought that you could lie, you see, my dear, and tell yourself you didn't really love it. You thought you could deny it. You can lie to your friends. You can lie to your family. You can even lie to your own mind. But you can't lie to your libido, and you can't lie to your seductress. I know your sex drive more intimately than even you do. Bad, bad girl. You must be properly scolded." Flick!

Gasp. "OHHHH-ho-ho-hoooo!" you wail. It... just hurts so good! your mind appends.

A nip comes to your cheek.

"Gotcha, girl. You see, it's just like I told you. Your poor pussy's deep red and soaking wet. You don't know from one moment to the next if you can take any more. Your entire body's damp from baby oil and sweat. You don't know how you got here. You don't know who I am, or why I'm doing this to you. You're a lone little waif lost in an elusive twilit atmosphere. You don't know where your next meal is coming from. You don't know what time or day it is. All you know is right here and right now."

She kisses and licks you behind the ear. The quill attacks. You cry out in searing lust.

"This feather will force you to cum, my love. You don't have a say in it, I'm afraid. I know just how to seduce you. Everything is seduction. Don't you see? Indulge your other senses. Listen to the crackle of the fire. Breathe in our pheromones. Feel me wrapped around your delicate physique. Drink it in, my pet. Closer by the second... each and every instant, you're just the slightest bit nearer. Look at you jiggle and quiver. You're mine, my sweet innocent angel... all mine."

Her smoldering tone and words intoxicate you and set your hormones running wild, just as the quill does. You give your muscles another flex, as if to convince yourself that if you can make your joints swell, maybe they'll force the shackles to expand, then you can relax them and they'll slip out. But of course, this theory holds no water. Your Mistress of the evening, however, holds all the cards. You see that she will win, no matter what, and she'll have that which she desires. What's more, she's right: it does drive you crazy... but you do love it. You can't lie to her. She's right about everything. Holy smoke, you think. She really is my sex goddess.

She asks you a question. You oblige yourself to listen.

"...Huh?"

"I said...do you think you can turn your face this way...and kiss me?"

You do your best, bringing your head back to get around your arm and face her. You kiss, successively, for an impressive amount of time considering your shortness of breath. Until the next flick! of the treacherous plume compels you to tear your lips off hers, just for a throaty moan and a gulp of air. Your pussy is about to explode. Again. You don't know how much came out the first time or how much is left. But at this point, you tell yourself that you have to trust your seductress to know. After all, she's known and been exactly correct about everything thus far.

Ffffffffffffffffffffffffflick.

You gasp, for the umpteenth time, out loud. You feel it. The rumble. Abrupt as hell, but it's upon you.

"Omigod, can I cum??" you holler.

"Ooooh," says a pleased seductress. "Asking permission. Even though I didn't order you to. I like that. I like an obsequious slave."

"C—...c-can I??!"

"When you're ready... when you get there, yes," she purrs in your ear. "You can cum."

"Thank you," you utter, tensing up as it takes hold. You try to tame and hold your breath.

"Oh god!... Oh... oh... OHHHH... OHHHHHHHHH!!..."

She flicks you faster, more intensively, to match the rising build of your climax. You realize for the first time your clit is erect enough to swell out and protrude from its hood, and also feel the devastating blade. No wonder it's beyond incredible. You think for the briefest moment back on her words. She has indeed proceeded to make you feel sensations beyond the reaches of what you thought possible. You didn't believe a mere feather held the potency to spin you through such madness...but then there's as well the fact of her holding you, kissing you, gnawing at you with her teeth...

She ups her volume.

"FIIIIIIVE... FOOOOOOUR..."

Oh dear God Almighty... Just as you thought it couldn't get any more suspenseful.

"THREEEEEEEEEEEE..."

You bite the skin below your bottom lip. Your feet leave the ground. You're weightless. Rocketing through the heavens. Nothing exists any longer. No earthly entity, nothing familiar as it was before this night. Just you... and her.

"TWOOOOOOOOO..."

This, you process with the last vestige of your rational thought, might be the first time all night your hostess is less than completely precise about something. And that is, that you don't know if you can last past one.

"O—"

It turns out that you are correct this time.

"OOOOAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!! AAAAAAAAAAHHH!! AAAAAAAAHH! AAAAAAAHH!... AAAAHH... AAAAH..."

It's hard to tell if this too is a squirting or gushgasm, but the way this night has turned out... who knows. Anything is possible right now. You eventually begin begging her to please stop, but once more, that sinister laugh tells you she won't until she's persuaded you're done. That even though you bargained for nothing this evening, you're still going to get just a little more than expected. And than you can handle. You screech your voice completely hoarse this time, as the terrible feather blade begins to feel like a razor blade. It's become too tender, and is barely longer pleasurable. Just as you begin to truly suffer from the agony... she stops.

Far too much pressure has been placed on your lacrimal dams, and they crumble. Tears flood the blindfold.

"OH god..." you wheeze. "Oh my god... oh, thank you..."

You feel her other arm ever so gently hug and hold you as you cry. Two words celestially echo through your spellbound mind.

"You're welcome."

Here tonight in this mysterious, dimly lit study, so many unanswered questions remain. A part of you still wonders if this really happened. The voice of your sizzling seductress lingers, haunting your mind and soul. You insist to yourself that something about all this is just so... wrong. And has been from the start. You're inclined to feel that you were kidnapped, and seduced against your will, even though... you remember nothing.

Nothing. Nothing before awakening this evening in this bound-up state. Did she... brainwash you somehow? The idea is dreadful. Yet there are so few logical explanations. You're aware she's still here in the study with you, and you still want your answers. But... your energy's draining. At a steady rate. You almost begin to feel yourself float into that unplaceable limbo between asleep and awake. You can barely make out her final message.

"Sweet dreams, my love... it's been simply splendid tormenting you this beautiful evening..."

Maybe it really was all a dream, you think as your eyes flutter shut. They have an astonishing way of seeming real, after all. Maybe you'll find out what led up to all of this, but maybe you won't. Maybe you'll wake up tomorrow and everything will be normal. Perhaps only time can tell. There is one thing, though, you believe you can say for sure. Whatever happens...

...Things will never feel quite the same again.