The Fox And The Owl Ch. 01

# The Fox And The Owl

## Prelude

> "What would you do with me if you had me under your control?"

I asked you once.

> "Well, I'm no Domme, so I'd have to torture you with pleasure. Kissing, petting, stroking, deep throating, sensation play, prostate teasing, tit fucking, but all with orgasm denial. Until you were begging me for release!"

I smile, then chuckle as I pull you close into my embrace.

> "I'd say that the way you describe your control over me is akin to what a sensual Domme would do. Yes, you already have me at your finger tips, my love. My root shakra hums with sensual tantric energy from your thoughts of me."

I pause momentarily, then continue my thoughts out loud.

> Yet, you know how much I enjoy reciprocity, how much I enjoy pleasuring you, your mind, your thoughts, your body. Do you think of me when you masturbate? How my cock feels deep within you? My fingers twisting, pulling, teasing your nipples as I ravish you with my tongue and mouth? Teeth bared against your nape of your neck? The sweet pain as I bite into you, gently yet firmly, sending simmering waves of pleasure into you? Holding you firmly upright when your legs turn into jelly."

It's your turn to smile... and squirm as my fingertips stroke lightly up your arm.

> "I feel that a hunt is afoot... where, oh where, is my Kitsune?!"

My fingers continue to wander over your exposed skin.

> "Should I seek my vivacious prey, with her beautiful tails wagging suggestively, enticing me into a chase, within the lush green bamboo garden? Stalk her deep within the forest. Then..."

You squeal delightedly.

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## The Japanese Garden

The three tailed vixen stirs quietly in the underbrush. Sniffing the air softly, tentatively. Her keen eyes flit across the small clearing. Ears pert, scanning. Her body stance relaxed yet wound for action. Ready to spring, to fight, to flee.

I've been watching patiently, attentive to her small proclivities and habits. She intrigues me. Delights me with her beautiful eyes. Her three sleek full tails; an odd number. I've stalked her over the past fortnight through the bamboo forest dabbled in green and yellow splashes of filtered sunlight. Staying along her peripherals. Capturing her image with my electronic eye.

My vixen cautiously reveals herself, emerging slowly on the outer edge of the clearing. She's curious. The bench where she habitually sits and rests, sometimes sunning herself or grooming her soft sleek fur, sits a small cast iron pot of brewed Gyokuro green tea. A favorite of hers. My unspoken invitation.

> "Will her curiosity overcome her fears?"

I muse as I watch.

And wait.

A sudden rustle on the opposite side of the clearing draws her attention.

She stops. Crunches low.

My keen eyes and ears focus on the disturbance. Damn squirrels! My vixen, spooked, bounds away back to the safety of the forest.

Knowing her patterns, I glide amongst the tall bamboo. Chasing her, yet never losing sight. The flash of her tails, darting in and out of underbrush. She heads towards her den. Silently cursing those damn squirrels, I gracefully swoop to my perch. The squirrels will make a tidy meal later, I muse while watching her as she ducks into the safety of her refuge. Disappointed by today's misadventure, yet I've learned something new.

Deep in the shadows of forest on my perch, statute still, I watch for several minutes. I know that she's surveying the forest, her eyes darting to and fro. A brief shadow moves in the entrance of her den. She seeks the solitude within the depths of her sanctuary. Her hungry and thirst not yet great enough to overcome her caution.

My large round eyes narrow and my brow furls. Time to slate my hunger!

The squirrels stand no chance. Distracted by their frolics, my talons make short work of them. Stashing one of their bodies in the crook of bamboo branches within a thick cluster, I rip, tear and gulp my meal. Finished with the nourishment of my body, I alight with the other. Swooping, gliding amongst the tall bamboo, I landed quietly in low bush near her entrance. I wait.

Listen.

Watch.

Sounds of the forest are unbroken by any unusual silences or small furtive undertones.

A short glide, I deposit my kill, my sincere offer, at the entrance. Strong deft flaps, I soon return to the clearing. Circling, inspecting the edges of the clearing. Satisfied, I land lightly on the back of the bench.

A shimmering bend of light and space...

I sit naked beside the still warm pot of tea. I leisurely pour a cup, sipping the tea, and savor its warmth. A couple more pours, then I stand and walk across the clearing. The tie is within easy reach of my hands, six feet above the ground. The jute rope sizzles as my backpack descends from the branch above. I quickly don my clothes and slip on my socks and shoes. Inspect my camera before putting the strap over my neck. Slip the straps of my backpack over my shoulders and return back to the bench. I finish the tea then stow everything securely inside my backpack.

Before leaving, soft click and whirl of the shutter breaks the serene calm of the small clearing. Feeling a bit better about this morning's misadventures, I head down the dark brown dirt path out of the bamboo forest and back to the garden's manicured grounds.

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**Thank you** for reading! *Your* feedback is what inspires me to keep writing.