Captivated
My second story here on YS, written for a friend after she read my first one. How could I say no?
Captivated
Ding-Dong!
The cheerfullness of the doorbell caused the Sheep to just laugh out loud. He knew what was coming. He always did.
Of course, that hardly dissuaded him. Quite the opposite.
Slipping his paw down his pants, he shifted his already growing bulge so it was less than noticeable, though again that was nothing more than a formality at this point. He stood there in his required attire - Leather pants, laced sides and a sturdy belt, barechested and with a simple leather collar - and was barefoot and, carrying nothing with him.
He shifted his feet nervously. He knew she kept him waiting in public like this to get him geared up. But he mustn't ring the doorbell again. He daren't.
Minutes passed.
He shifted his feet again, aware of every set of eyes on him despite the lateness of the hour. He was about to turn away, to think that for once he was mistaken about her intentions, when the door opened. Without time to register what was going on, an ebony paw hooked a short leash to his collar and yanked him inside, the door closing with a resounding and final thud.
Blushing, the captured (and captivated, no less) sheep was pulled up the stairs to the first floor, scrambling as he never quite regained his balance from the first tug, though he did manage to get a quick glimpse at his mistress - though it did not show easily, he was used to discerning the subtle lines of Lace on the onyx fur, and the soft sheen of leather. Seems he was not wrong this time.
Finally resuming his footing when in the doorway, he took a deep breath and quickly routed his gaze to the floor before she turned around. It does no good to be caught looking before being told, the first lesson he had learnt. She left him unfulfilled that night, and sent him home with his sheephood throbbing and aching painfully. Never again. Her voice was a low sneer as her first words of the evening came from her maw, and he could feel the movement against his collar as she played with the short leash attatched to him.
"Now, Pet.... lets get you where you belong, shall we?"
He tensed... this was always a test... should he reply and face a possible strike, or should he remain silent untill she demanded an answer? He never knew.
A moment later he knew for sure as a shock of pain erupted across his muzzle, more from shock or anything else... she was never brutal... and her voice rose in anger.
"Answer your Mistress, Pet!"
"Y....yes, Mistress Omisha..." He said quietly, another lesson paying off as he granted her the proper appelation. He smiled slightly as her response came as a low purr, throaty and lusty.
"Mmmmhh... good boy... come..."
Without further ado he found himself led into what he called the Bedroom, but in truth was nothing more than the play room for he never got to sleep here at all. His hands were lifted above his head from behind and fastened into a harness, arms spread and locked into place. Straightaway his legs were nudged apart with a delicate foot, a soft "tut-tut" from the Panthress as she had to remind him, then bending and fastening his legs in place, effectivley spreadeagling him and granting her 360 degree access to him. Finally, she came to stand before him, a velvet blindfold held in her paws... he let his eyes roam her then, and found he was right.
Lace stockings rode high on her thighs, hooked into a matching belt and fastened to the base of a leather corset that ran the length of her torso to right below the dark-furred breasts of this Mistress Omisha. They were left bare, twin nipples peeking through the fur. Twirling the blindfold, she purred low as she spoke.
"Drink in the view, Pet, you won't see it again for a while..." And promptly blinded him. Her first act was to rake a single paw firmly down his chest, claws extended, raising both three lines of angry red welts and a shivering inhalation of breath from the helpless sheep, causing him to arch outwards to a touch that was already gone, only to feel it rake just as harshly up the back of his right thigh a moment later, a sultry voice in his ear reminding him that the blindfold heightens his other senses. The gasping captive didn't need to be reminded of that, surprisingly enough.
Arching with a low bleat, a blush fiery on his cheeks and a needfull bulge in his trousers kept his mind from wandering, and he cried out as two paws fanned down his back, drawing blood in two or three places, and as they left him he slumped, panting heavily against the restraints. That was his weakness and she knew it, and she showed no shame in using it reduce him to begging. He tried to do just that, but his breath was ragged and his throat dry... after swallowing twice, he managed to murmur.
"Mistress... please....."
And she laughed. Not an unkind sound, and he felt those paws slip around his waist from behind, her body against his and her silky soft cheek on his shoulder. Right now they were shown as nothing more than they were, two friends of the most intimate kind, lovers of the heart and of the body but also deepest friends to the core. And as soon as it arrived that moment was lost with a butterfly kiss to his cheek and a whispered message of affection against his ear. Those words echoed through his head for the rest of the night.
Her footfalls were padded to silence against the thick carpeting, and she stood at his side and regarded him with that gentle affection in her eyes. She loved this time with him, more than any other with any other. Stepping forwards she took a single claw of hers and used it to snap the cord on his pants, one section at a time untill one side hung free. He was past words, bleating softly and panting for breath as she worked on the other side, casting the trousers away... more for the fact of the noise than any disregard for them. She knelt before him, and blew a stream of hot breath across the exposed sheephood, fully erect from its sheath and pulsing with every breath he took. And then she touched him.
He cried out at the end of his excusite torment, the first touch of her rough tongue against the base of his shaft electric, raising him to tiptoes as she licked along the underside to the very tip, mewling softly as she took the head into her maw and suckled on it just softly, an air of delicacy still about her as she focused on this before her, feeling herself get heated and moist beneath her expensive lace underwear. She didn't touch herself, and in a way teased herself more than she teased this helpless, writhing sheep with whom she found herself smitten.
He moaned her name, the title 'Mistress' all but forgotten as he pushed forwards into the talented Panthress's maw, almost growling low in his lust for her, but she wasn't done tormenting him just yet. Standing, she struck him across the maw again and growled low, her voice all but drifting with menace as the scent of his arousal on her breath washed over his nose... she was close to him, so close.
"That's MISTRESS Omisha, remember?"
And she laughed softly as she moved behind him again, leaving him to hang a few moments as she eased herself free of all her clothes and proceeded to sate some of the ache within her, holding back her moans and gasps as she toyed with her nipples and rubbed a single digit over her clit. After maybe a minute of this she couldn't take it, not another stroke, and moves back to the front of the panting Sheep. Lifting her finger, she pressed it to his lips and he took it to his mouth hungrily, suckling her juices with a murmur of his approval and his need, member straining against the air, still erect and with a slight droplet of precum formed on the end. She wanted to just ride him, right now, but she couldn't... he wasn't begging, and a Mistress had her rules, you know?
Slipping behind him, she moistened her fingers in her mouth (Still tasting herself slightly... she made a note to tell him off for not cleaning her properly, though she far from minded the taste) and trailed them over his asscheeks before pressing one against the puckered tailstar of the bound Pet. He gasped and pressed back hard with another longing bleat, and she dipped her maw to nip at his short tail as she worked a finger against his prostate a while untill she heard what she wanted to hear, that single whining, gasping, panting plea for her embrace, for her satation and for the climax of the evening. Nodding, she replied curtly that he had pleased her, and walked to the front of him, finding herself barely contained from running to his embrace.
Pressing her chest to his, she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him firmly, tongue dancing alongside his with that intense, smouldering need that he summed so easily to her loins. Shifting her hips to above his, she moaned love against his lips and ground lust against his crotch, feeling the tip of his sheephood against the pearl of her sex then resting against her velvet entrance. Nodding, almost to herself, she eased herslelf onto him... not with a cry of animal passion, but the low and repeated gasps of a woman welcoming a part of herself back inside...
...and he felt the same, his breath held for the duration of entering her to be released in a low murr as he hilts against her. How long they stayed like this neither is ever sure, but before long she started moving, rolling her hips against his and quickly gaining momentum as they both knew he had been teased to far. This would be a frantic but intense coupling, as it always was, parting from his lips with a mewl of passion as she felt him pulse inside of her with that need for it, the wanton lust that drove him past caution and fear of reprisal. She didn't mind as he crossed the line by calling her name without Mistress... she minded less as he took control, biting down hard on the sensitive muscle where her neck met her shoulder, a spasm of pain and pleasure rippling through her as her orgasm struck squarely, crying out as she ground onto him and heard the muffled shout against her shoulder, his own climax all but taking the legs from under him as he bucked into her, lips capturing hers as they rode every wave for it was worth, his balls drawing in tight against his shaft and pulsing his seed into her, her velvet walls tight about him as she stiffened again and again, before finally she leant limply against him with a whimpering mewl, reaching up to unfasten him, where he stumbled forwards before remembering he was secured to the floor.
Removing his blindfold, and unfastening his legs, he lifted this delicate and petit Panthress into his arms and carried her to her own room, laying her down with a gentle kiss and three softer words, curling against her side and closing his eyes.
Those words she whispered against his ear while he was still chained flowed through him, and he smiled. He couldn't doubt it, and sure as hell didn't want to.
She loved him.