In the Library

The coach wheels crunched on the gravel path, and the four horses, sweat sheening their glossy flanks, came to a skittering halt. The coachman descended from his high seat and flipped the foot step down, and twisted the latch open. Inside, the two young women were eager to see their new home in England.

Their voyage across the Atlantic had gone smoothly and, after the afternoon of the storm when they had shared a sensual awakening together, they had delighted in each others' arms each night. The ship had docked at Liverpool, where they had been met by Aunt Catherine's coach and four. The coachman was a jovial fellow who had quickly collected their trunks and, with the assistance of some eager cabin boys, stowed them on top of the coach. Aunt Catherine's country residence was some two hours from the docks, so it was not necessary to make arrangements for the train.

Alexandra climbed down first, her delicate boots light on the step, her long dark hair flowing. Head down at first, so she would not trip, she raised her head to gaze upon her aunt standing on the steps, and she froze in astonishment. For she gazed on the older woman as if she was looking into a mirror of her future self. The family resemblance, for this was her father's sister, was abundantly clear. There could be no doubt that the two women were of the same blood. Perhaps the only difference was Catherine's rigid demeanour and firm gaze, a serious, perhaps strict woman, somewhere in her late thirties. Catherine was the younger sister to Alexandra's father and the blood line was strong.

With a wry smile, she greeted her niece, "dearest girl, welcome to my home, it will be yours for this next year." About her feet a magnificent, exotic cat circled, weaving about her skirts, its tail held high and rigid. The animal was bigger than any domestic cat, and was marked something like a leopard. "This is Octavius, for he used one of his lives coming to this country. He is my loyal cerval, and is most precious to me." The beast warily circled Alexandra and reached out one delicate paw and flicked at the swirl of her skirt. Apparently satisfied, the cat then lost interest in the girl, and sat by his mistress' feet, grooming his long front legs with a bright red tongue.

Behind Alexandra, her golden haired maid descended from the coach and curtsied to the older woman. "Aunt Catherine, this is my maid, Odette, as faithful a girl as I could ever wish," Alexandra was keen that her sweet maid would be favourably received.

"Come forward, girl, let me see you." But before the maid could move, the cerval flashed forward and spiralled around her legs, his tail quivering, a loud purr rumbling in his throat. "My goodness, I would not have expected that. Octavius is usually most uninterested in strangers, and strange girls least of all. How interesting!" And there was an inquisitive look on Catherine's face, as if she was demanding of her cat, what do you do, animal?

Flustered, Odette took a step forward, and curtsied once more, "Madame, I am at your service."

"No doubt girl, no doubt you will be." And Catherine looked upon the tall maid with a pensive eye. "But come, both of you, you must be totally exhausted. I will have my maids attend you. Odette, while you are here, you will be as my niece. My girls will attend you, as they do attend your mistress."

"Oh, your ladyship, that is too great an honour, I am your servant."

"Hush girl, I am mistress of this house, you will do as I wish. Think no more of it." Odette did not know what to think - this intense woman was as beautiful as her dear Alexandra, but was far more knowing and worldly wise. And her cat! What was she to make of Octavius, who now led the party into the house? Her blue eyes huge, Odette followed the two women into the hall, this aunt and her niece, and the purring cat overseeing them all.

Alexandra and her maid quickly settled into a ritual in the big country house. Catherine was clearly a woman of wealth and taste, and made the two young women welcome. It was summer, and the days were long and warm; lush green grounds surrounded them. The ceremonial lake, Catherine proudly explained, had been designed and built by Capability Brown, the famous groundsman. The house was grand, two storeys high, big rooms with huge open fire places and sumptuous fittings.

As the days passed and her belly swelled, Alexandra found that her days involved more sleep. When she rested, Odette could often be found in the gardens with Octavius the cerval cat, who had taken it upon himself to show her his favourite haunts. Many times the gardeners reported back to Catherine that the girl had been found asleep with the cat curled in her lap, or draped about her shoulders, a living, breathing, exotic and exquisitely soft fur.

Strangely, the cat was never seen after sundown, and the girls also noticed that Aunt Catherine often retired early; or spent time in the distant library wing. This was the one place in the house that Catherine had not shown them, and the two girls assumed that her collection of books must be very old and very precious, not to be the plaything of silly girls.

One evening, when the moon was high and full, Alexandra could not find Odette. The maid had become dreamier these last few weeks, and Alexandra was perplexed. "Aunt, have you seen Odette? I cannot find the girl anywhere!"

"Ah, perhaps it is time, now," her aunt cryptically replied, "perhaps you are ready. Come with me, girl." And the aunt took the niece's hand in her own; and the two women, who could have been younger and older sister, or daughter and mother, they were so alike; the two women went down a long corridor and up a spiral of steps. Alexandra realised that they must be in a place above the library.

Catherine put a finger to her lips, hush, we must be quiet. And she led the younger woman to a small room with a pair of comfortable, high backed chairs placed side by side, overlooking a six sided bay of the library, windows on three sides, floor to ceiling bookshelves on opposite walls, and an opening to the main body of the room. The small gallery was screened from the room below by an intricately carved lattice of wood, with small windows that could be slid aside. It was a viewing gallery, where the occupants could be discreetly hidden from the room below.

And in the room below, Alexandra found her maid. With a gasp, and an astonished wide opening of her flashing green eyes, Alexandra took in the sight; sinking into one of the chairs, her aunt beside her with an intense gaze. Below them, her tall blonde maid lay strapped akimbo on an extraordinary device, face down, two ankles and one wrist tied, her untied hand reaching forward, fingers reaching, reaching. The device was like a big rocking horse, a padded saddle upon which Odette lay, her legs spread wide on similarly padded supports, her legs wide apart, and her luscious full ass pushed obscenely high and open, her arms stretched in front of her. Her glorious mane of blonde waved hair lay down her back like a rippled wave of liquid gold, highlights picking up the flicker of a log fire. Alexandra could see the device was fitted with a complex set of levers, so that any part of it could be raised or lowered to any height and deployed to any angle. It was an amazing contraption, the art of a master craftsman.

And the girl was blind-folded. The two watchers could hear her small whispers of pleasure and frustration, as her unrestrained hand reached out in front of her, fingers reaching, reaching as far as they could. She was moving her face about, as if she was scenting out some ephemeral vapour, some elemental scent, some pheromonal offering, some fantastic scentic trail wafting in front of her. Her tongue was flickering in and out between her full swollen lips, red like delicious strawberries, just ripe for sucking and biting upon.

And standing in front of her, just out of reach of her reaching, grasping fingers, there stood a beautiful young man, nude and slender. His skin was the colour of honey, his limbs finely muscled but slim, his chest and belly hairless except for a rich swirl of dark dark hair at the base of his belly, his nipples chocolate brown, tips tight and long. His face was that of an angel, high chiselled cheek bones, dark smouldering eyes gazing on the curves of the tautened, tightened, bound and bounteous girl before him. His hair was long and silken straight, falling to his waist, a tawny brown colour with ripples of light and dark glinting in the fire light.

And his long cock lay thick and long and heavy along one thigh. His flesh was full but not yet erect, his balls heavy. And he stood so that his thick male flesh was no more than an inch from Odette's reaching fingers, tantalising her with his nearness and at the same teasing her with the distance. It was as if he knew the tortured maid could feel the air moving between his flesh and her fingers, his scent trailing to her tongue and her sensitive nose.

"But who is he, aunt?" whispered Alexandra, spellbound and entranced, "who is he, that tantalises my maid and must be driving her to madness?"

"But why, Alexandra, he is Octavius, as he comes to me at night, he is my beautiful cerval." And Catherine's eyes were held strong upon the beautiful, slender youth, her hand drifting like smoke to her throat, her fingers flickering to the buttons on her velvet blouse, edging her little hands to the top of her chest, now flushing red on her blue pale skin. Her lips were parted, her delicate tongue a tip of red between her white teeth.

"How can that be, aunt, how can an animal be a man?"

"I will explain, one day, my dear niece, but enough now to know that our family has strange blood, and strange blood attracts strangeness. But look, he has moved!"

And sure enough, the beautiful youth had crept forward that tiny inch, so that now Odette's reaching finger, that finger she desperately wished were longer, that finger could now touch the thickening flesh of his penis. His control was superb. He remained motionless, and the only movement in the library was the little stroke of the maid's extended finger as she moved its tip up and down the beautiful shaft, lingering her finger nail along the long vein that pulsed down the length of his cock, reaching down to lightly touch the swelling head which was pushing free of the foreskin. Odette's head turned to one side, as if she could hear the thickening flesh of the youth in front of her, as if there was some tiny push of sound, as if the air was compressing in on itself as his flesh thickened.

And in the gallery above, the tiny sound of a button sliding through a cloth hole was felt more than heard, so hypersensitive where the two women there. Alexandra could hear her own thighs slide together, as she clenched her legs tight to contain the heat of her wettening sex, an infinitely small sound under the silk of her dress. Her pretty tongue wettened her red lips, filling with arousal from the visual excitement of her maid's tantalising slowness. For she knew how the slow movements built up in her maid, from tiny delicate butterfly-like touches to a stronger lustful directness, and she knew that even bound, in the end her maid would be thrashing fiercely in her passion. And the youth was beautiful, haughty in his exotic physical splendour. It was no wonder that her aunt's fingers were now firm on her nipples, imagining no doubt what the youth did to her, and knowing the exquisite pleasure the maid would receive.

Odette's single extended finger traced lightly down the thickening flesh of the honey coloured prick, which began to fill and straighten. As the splendid cock started to rise towards her, the girl slowly applied two and then three fingers to the hardening cock, her fingers circling in slow patterns on the hot flesh. And as the shaft began to stiffen and rise, Octavius slowly, ever so slowly, moved backwards so that the girl's fingers were once again teased by the disappearing presence of the exquisite shaft, until the only part she could reach was the very head of his cock, now fully clear from the foreskin and darkening and heating. And now the full cock was pointing straight from his tightly muscled groin, his thighs taut and tight, the hard muscles of his stomach firm and flat, the curl of hair dark around the base of his erection.

And ever so slowly the youth moved his body forward, a tiny fraction of movement at a time, so that as slow seconds lengthened into tantalising minutes, more of his prick was available to her stretching fingers. And his cock reached its full rigid hardness and began to rise from its horizontal pointing, the helmet rearing upwards, his body now closer to her hand, such that she could grip and cup his full hanging balls, her palm caressing the lightly haired globes, squeezing and gripping.

And she began a slow movement of her hand from down around his tightening sac up to a sliding grip on his shaft and over the head, now red purple, filling with heat and blood. Odette's other hand, tightened and held by rope, could just reach the firm thigh of the youth, her fingers able to touch and feel the heat of his warm flesh, all finger tips now a centre of sensation, channeling his hot hard sexual energy to her body. And the girl was whimpering, sighing, her breath catching, every sense focusing and channeling to her fingers and the palm of her free hand.

In the gallery above the young woman and her aunt were both entranced by the slow vignette below them. They were too far away to really savour the slow exchange of tease and touch, and were more aware of the sounds of the golden haired maid as she sighed and whispered nonsense words, incoherent words, inhaling the breath of the living prick before her, musky and promising. And the maid was now thrusting her luscious ass as high as she could, to open up her cunt and her rear bud to the air, to get any sensation of breath and heat and cold on her hot centres.

Juice was glinting on her luscious red lips, tangling in her thick blonde pubic curls. Her ass, firm and ripe and round, clenched as she found every way she could to give her ripe, beloved body sensation, every way she could when her wrists were tied and she could barely move. And her sensations were strong upon her, and she wanted more, lusted for more, agonised for more. But could only touch, she was so much under the control of the tantalus before her, his stealth and instinct that of a hunter, like the cat that was inside him.

By moving his lean body slowly nearer and further from her grappling hand and her restrained touching hand, Octavius had the girl completely under his control. He was controlling the pace of her whispers and moans, and by moving closer her hand was able to grip him tighter and more completely; and if she built him up to his peak too much or too fast, by moving away from her she could only touch his shaft with the very tips of her fingers, and he could slow his arousal. This slow torture drove the captured maid near mad with lust, and she cried out for him to take her mouth, to fuck her there. And like a cat with a bird, the youth decided he had tortured her enough this day.

And he took her free hand in his, and laced their fingers together, and moved towards Odette's red lips and flickering tongue. It was as if she could feel the heat of his hot shaft before her face, and her tongue showed red between her lips. He moved so that finally her tongue curled over the purple head of his cock, and she took the plum coloured head of him into her mouth, sucking deep on his proud flesh.

But again he tormented the girl, first by denying her his cock and then letting her take him deeper into her mouth and throat. But over time her hot mouth and her clever swirling tongue got the better of him, and they were more equals now. For not only did Odette desire his thick prick, but so too did Octavius desire her lips around it and her tongue hot upon it.

And in the gallery above, Catherine's hands were now curling around her own small breasts, pressing her palms hard to their swell, and pinching her nipples between her fingers. Her other hand was deep in the folds of cloth at her lap, her fingers deep in her quim and flickering on the rising bud of her clit. Her wetness was slick and hot, for she knew the feline cleverness of her youth, she knew the tortured delight the maid was suffering, and she knew that her own coming would not be far off.

And beside her, her niece Alexandra was also in the throes of her own arousal. One hand was stroking the swell of her belly, and the fingers of her other hand were deep in her own cunt, slick juice lubricating her clit. And her eyes were hooded and closed with her own pleasure from her clever fingers; yet every desire was to see the ravished body of her dear maid, as she too knew her girl's torment would be excruciating but sweet.

The room filled with the sounds of their rising sexual heat, and Odette heard and recognised the sighs and sound of her mistress, and knew that she was discovered. "Oh mistress, forgive me," she panted, "he is too beautiful and I must taste him and touch him."

"Odette, my darling, I am here watching you, and my fingers are deep where yours have been, and you are so hot and bad, I wish I were you, oh my God, to be taken by him."

And beside her, Catherine called out, "fuck her now, Octavius, give the wench your seed, it is permitted. Take the girl!"

And the slim youth did as his mistress commanded. Taking Odette's head in both his hands and wrapping her golden tresses through her fingers, he held her head steady and began a deeper and steadier fuck into her mouth. Not so deep that she gagged, but deep enough that her teeth and tongue could nip and lick and bite the head of his shaft, and so her long fingers could wrap his shaft and cup his balls, now rising as she worked him up to his spend. And the girl applied every art she knew with her sweet tongue and sucking mouth, every instinct from deep within her, to grip and stroke and to rise the deep cream from far within him. And in response to her deep sucks, Octavius bent over her long curved back and caressed her beautiful curved flanks and down over the globes of her ripe ass. As his firm haunches began a rhythmic quiver, his long arms swept along the girl's voluptuous body, and his finger nubbed across the deep crack of her cheeks and pressed firm on her anus bud. The firm pressure there thrust Odette a tiny measure forward on to his prick, and she in turned nudged her finger to his asshole and she thrust there.

The quick thrust of her finger finally brought the youth to his peak, and as she twisted her finger in his hot hole, and cupped his tight balls in the palm of her hand, the long pulsing quickened from deep within him, and his cream erupted into her mouth, spilling from her lips. And she drank him down in long gulps, and as the youth pulsed, a deep throaty sound rose from his throat, the first sound that he had made, and it was as a cat yowls at the moon on a star dark night. And his sharp fingernails ran up her spine leaving a thin red welt on her flesh. Yet he was gentle with her, removing her blindfold and caressing and stroking her lovely hair. He pulled back from her mouth and she reached her hand up to hold the hot wet shaft, cream glinting upon the flesh, against her cheek. And she held him there and he softened in her hand.

He carefully undid the shackles from her wrist and ankles, and helped her down from the apparatus. Near the fire there was a deep chair, and Octavius helped the girl to it, and they both curled around each other in it, such that it was difficult to see who curled around who, and who held who.

And Alexandra understood that her maid had a precious bond with the cat in the day who became the youth at night; and she further recognised the huge generosity of her Aunt Catherine who had a similar bond with her beast, but was willing to share him with the maid. And she looked to her side to see the intense gaze from her aunt who looked upon the couple below, with a fondness that belied her usually stern demeanour. And despite her intensity, Alexandra also saw that her aunt was also a creature of passion, for she stood there dishevelled, her bodice undone and her chest flushed, her breasts visible and her breath uneven.