Mastertank1
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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The Warlord And The Warrior Queen, Part 2
A Hysterical Historical
By Mastertank1
The next morning Saul awakened while Guine was still asleep. After gently disengaging her from where her limbs and his own were intertwined, he rose and dressed, and left her to sleep while he started his day.
Saul had noticed that Guine’s garment had become damaged when he removed it without unbinding her limbs. He told one of his chamber slaves to bring her a himation to replace the torn shift from last night.
Saul paused by one of the cookfires of his personal guard and shared that squad’s breakfast of porridge lightly flavored with meat. Then, he walked directly to the pavilion where the surgeons, physicians and chirurgeons plied their trades.
There had been remarkably few casualties among his men. Due to superior equipment, arms, tactics, training and health only 117 of his men had been killed and about twice that many wounded despite having inflicted losses in the thousands on their foes.
The doctors had relatively little to do. They reported that 4 of the injured would still almost certainly die, and about 100 would have to be retired as invalid. The rest would recover enough to return to full active duty.
Saul then called the doctors all into a conference to solve a problem for him. The result of that conference was that when Guine awoke halfway through the morning, the chief of Saul’s personal slave handlers had a pair of bootees made of soft leather waiting for her.
These items of footwear were filled with a cool creamy salve of some kind, and once they were fitted onto her feet, each one was laced snugly onto its respective ankle. A thin steel band was then placed around the leather of each bootee top and squeezed into place so that it could not be removed.
When that was done, Guine realized that Saul’s great pavilion tent, in which she had been sleeping, was the last structure left standing in the camp. Everything else, including the palisade and watchtowers of wood, had been taken down. All the re-useable parts had been stored in the wagons of the Legion’s supply train. Even the earth mound that had formed the base of the palisade had been shoveled back into the defensive ditch it had come from.
Guine was loaded into a covered wagon with a few other preferred slaves of high ranking soldiers. The only other people who rode were the wounded and the dead, in separate conveyances. Everyone else, soldier or captive or slave, marched on their own two legs or, if an officer, rode a horse.
That day’s march was deliberately short, covering only 30 miles instead of the usual 50 and stopping on a hilltop not too far from a small wood. While most of the Legion built a new castra and the cavalry rode guard patrol, large details cut down the near edge of the woods for some distance back.
The 4 wounded who had been expected to die had done so. That evening, before the evening meal was served, there was a funeral service. Then, 121 funeral pyres were lit. The volatile and aromatic oils the logs and faggots had been splashed with caused each pyre to catch instantly. The pleasant scents of the oils at first mingled oddly with and then masked the smell of burning flesh.
A messenger summoned Saul to confer with Artur, and Guine spent the next three nights alone. She was well treated, but puzzled that the bootees she had been made to wear were never allowed to come off.
They didn’t hurt or itch or anything unpleasant, but the way the salve made them squish with every step felt distinctly odd. She wondered what the purpose was.
Saul caught up with the marching column three days later, the day they reached the Legion’s permanent home, Castrum Legio Yorkensis. The Fortress Of The Legion Of York. Guine had marveled at the way the legionaries tore down a marching fort every morning, stored the parts, marched 50 miles and then used the parts plus local dirt to build a new fort to sleep in each night. No wonder the northern fighters had stood no chance against them!
That night Guine knelt at Saul’s left side and served him as he ate dinner. She and all other serving slaves had been fed BEFORE the main dinner was served, not after as in most households. When Saul rose to leave, he waved her to accompany him.
When they had entered in mid-afternoon, she had quickly realized that the permanent fortress was simply a scaled-up marching castra constructed in stone instead of wood, and several stories high in places. She now followed Saul up the ramps to his private chambers.
An older slave woman awaited within, accompanied by several burly and muscular younger women. The older slave had several implements to hand, and some unidentified bottles and jars.
Saul led the group of women to the baths. He stripped and plunged into the pool, then came up and went to the side where Guine and the other waited. He told Guine to sit on the edge of the pool. Two of the burly ones sat to either side of her, while the rest and the older one entered the pool and stood around Saul, who was now right in front of her.
With his powerful hands, Saul easily twisted the steel bands off from the tops of the bootees on Guine’s feet. Then he stepped away and reclined on the steps of the pool, observing.
The bootees came off and were tossed away. As soon as Guine’s bare feet were placed in the warm water, the layer of smooth, tough callous began to slough away. Guine was shocked that it didn’t hurt at all. The older woman took one of Guine’s feet in her hand and began to administer a pedicure.
Guine jerked her foot away. It was so incredibly sensitive this way, with the callus removed! The six burlies now revealed the reason for their presence. The ones seated next to Guine each grabbed one of her arms and clasped down. The four who had entered the pool formed two pairs, and each pair grabbed one of Guine’s legs.
Guine struggled mightily, but the sextet of burlies kept a firm grip. The pedicurist slave deliberately made her touch firm, even rough, but it still tickled a little as every last shred of protective callous was removed. Guine squirmed, writhed and giggled, but had no other choice but to endure.
Saul grinned through Guine’s mildly ticklish pedicure ordeal. When it was done, he lifted her down into the pool and they were both cleansed thoroughly by the slaves. When the bath was complete, they were both dried, oiled and massaged. Every time her newly tender soles or toes were touched, Guine had to fight back giggles, even though the slaves were trying their best not to tickle.
Saul picked Guine up and carried her in the crook of his massive left arm. Both of them were quite naked, and Saul at least was quite un-self-concious about it. He took her into his bedchamber and dropped the curtains to close behind them.
Put down on the spotlessly clean floor, Guine noticed at once that the stones beneath her bare soles were pleasantly warm, not icy cold as those in her home castle would have been at this time of the year. She had heard that some Roman homes had that feature, called a hypocaust.
Slaves stoked a furnace on the floor below, while other slaves worked bellows to drive the air warmed by the fire through airways engineered into the stones of the floor when it was built. The bathing pool had been kept warm by a similar arrangement.
Saul undraped a special chair he had designed himself. On the last day’s march, he had sent a cavalry messenger ahead to order the garrison’s head carpenter to build it, and to have it ready by tonight.
Saul grasped Guine by her hips and picked her up bodily. He gently deposited her on the chair. Saul raised Guine’s arms and fastened her strong but slender wrists into two broad, adjustable cuffs of brown leather at the top of the solid, padded and leather covered chair back. Saul seated himself facing Guine, his back resting against a larger and stouter chair back. From either side of Saul’s chair back, a leather covered iron bar extended forward in Guine’s direction.
Each padded bar had two wide cuffs attached; one near the chair back and one out at the end of the bar. Saul raised Guine’s shapely legs one by one and fastened them to the padded bars. The cuffs near Saul’s chair back went around Guine’s lower calves just above her ankles; the cuffs at the far ends of the bars went around her legs at mid-calf, just below the point where each calf began to curve in to the knee hollow.
A small side table was positioned just within reach of Saul’s right hand. A number of items were arrayed on the table top. Guine now noticed that table and what it held. She put it all together; what Saul had done to her the first night he owned her. What he had ordered done to remove the thick, sensitivity dulling layer of callus from the bottoms of her feet. The proximity of those newly soft, tender and sensitive feet to her owner. Finally, the items arrayed on the table.
As Saul picked up a pair of light, airy ostrich plumes, transferring one to his left hand, Guine knew what her fate was that night. With a mixture of fear and anticipation, she found herself wondering just how terrible or wonderful it was going to be.
Saul leaned forward and blew softly on her bare feet. The passage of his warm breath across that softened skin tickled enough to make Guine giggle. Now she knew she was in for it.
Leaning back again, Saul idly trailed the fronds of one plume across Guine’s left sole. This time she burst into laughter! Guine couldn’t believe that her once callous clad feet had been made so incredibly ticklish! Saul settled in to enjoy the exquisite vulnerability of his new toy.
He spent a few minutes teasing her left foot with the plume. Guine tried as hard as she could, but her willpower just was not equal to forcing herself to stop laughing. She tried so hard, but her feet were now simply too ticklish!
Saul paused to let Guine get her breath back. Then he repeated the maddening tease, only now on her right foot. Again, she exploded in laughter. Again, he continued for several minutes, enjoying her increasing loss of control.
Saul gave her a second break. When he resumed this time, both of the plumes were worked. Both of Guine’s feet were caressed by the soft, tickly fronds at the same time. Her helpless laughter more than doubled.
Saul leaned back against the padded support. His eyes jumped from Guine’s face to her feet to her body and back again. He loved the growing expression of desperation that seemed to be spreading across Guine’s lovely face. He was delighted by the delicious wriggling and undulating of her gorgeous body as it involuntarily fought to escape from the bonds which held it in such a vulnerable position.
Saul adored the way the nipples were growing on her perfect little breasts, betraying the fact that even now, at the very beginning of her night’s torment, she was becoming uncontrollably aroused. He was deeply absorbed in the way her beautiful, shapely feet flexed and twitched, twisting from side to side, the way her cute little toes curled over towards him and then flexed back away.
The feathers slowly wandered up and down for some time. Then they changed direction. For a while they stroked from side to side, then they swirled around and around.
No matter what Guine did, no matter how she struggled, those tickly fronds never lost contact with her tender foot skin for even so much as a split second. Nor did they ever stop moving, which meant that she was unable to stop reacting to the constant tease. She couldn’t hold still and she couldn’t stop laughing, not if her life were to depend on it!
Saul and Guine had something oddly in common. Both of them were fascinated by Guine’s utter helplessness under this ticklish, teasing torment. Both of them, for different reasons and perceiving the matter from opposite sides, were becoming increasingly turned on by Guine’s helplessness.
Saul got quite carried away. He suddenly realized that he had continued a bit longer than he intended. He stopped and observed Guine as her sweet laughter subsided and she regained control of her breathing. He was gratified that the visible signs of her arousal did not subside, not in the least. He smiled as he put the plumes back on the table and instead picked up two long, soft but firm, round tipped feathers from a Gray Goose.
This time the tickling sensations Guine felt were far more intense. The soft feather stroking the bottom of her right foot made her wail with laughter. Again Saul relaxed, enjoying her happy distress as he caused it for several minutes.
Then he let her get her breath back. Then he tickled her left foot with the Goose quill for several minutes.
This time, between gasps, she begged Saul to take her right then. All of this tickling was making her feel so amazingly horny! She remembered how it had felt, having Saul inside of her while he tickled her on the first night she had belonged to him. She had liked it very much, to her own deep surprise, and at this moment she wanted it again. She wanted it desperately.
Even more desperately, Guine wanted to distract Saul from tickling both of her defenseless feet at once with those terrible Goose quills! No chance of that. After letting her breathing grow regular while he ignored her pleas, Saul began teasing the frantically flexing and wrinkling soles of both tenderized feet with the feathers.
This time, right from the start, there was a note of desperation in Guine’s laughter. It was getting to be too intense for her. It tickled so maddeningly! It was driving her wild! She hated it, and yet she loved it. Guine prayed to her Goddess to give her the strength to not just endure, but to enjoy pleasure that was so intense as to be unbearable!
Saul used the edges of these firmer feathers to explore the little wrinkles that formed when she scrunched up her feet. He brushed the feather tips across the tips and undersides of her toes. He stroked the broad edges up and down her smooth arches.
Saul really liked the sweetness of the sound of Guine’s laugh. The slowly increasing fear of loss of control that was adding a creeping note of terror to that sound, the slowly growing undertone of despair only made the sound sweeter.
Saul was so engrossed in his close observation of Guine’s happy suffering that again he went on for far longer than he had intended to. In her mind Guine was praying to every God and Goddess she had ever heard of;
“Oh, please! If only those feathers would stop for a moment! Just a moment! If only they’d let me stop laughing! Just for a second or two! Make them stop! Please, make them stop!”
Of course, all that actually emerged from her wide open mouth was the sound of her laughter. When he noticed tears starting to roll down Guine’s cheeks, Saul stopped the tickling and put down the feathers.
With that wide, wicked grin that excited her so, Saul asked Guine; “Do you want me to take you now, Guine? I know you enjoyed how it felt when you had me inside of you, that first time. Do you crave that again? Your body, it seems, is trying to tell me that you do!”
Guine only nodded her head in a vigorous yes. Saul scooted forward, entirely ready, and entered her. Guine was just getting into the rhythm of their mutual thrusts and enjoying Saul’s kiss on her mouth, when he signaled to a pair of other slave girls who had been standing quietly in the shadows.
The two younger girls stepped forward. Each of them picked up one of the Goose quills Saul had discarded. One of them standing by each of Guine’s helplessly immobilized bare feet, and began slowly stroking the soles with the edges of the feathers.
Guine exploded in uncontrollable, mindless hysteria. Saul kept on slowly stroking inside her, he kissed her and captured her tongue, teasing it with his own and his lips. His hands were caressing and teasing her nipples, the undersides of her breasts and her highly ticklish underarms, wandering from target to target. The two younger slave girls were teasing and tickling Guine’s soft inner thighs with their free hands, but never stopped stroking Guine’s hyper sensitive, super ticklish feet with the feathers.
The feathers tickled the worst. They stroked, and they stroked, and they stroked. The relentless stroking of the feathers forced Guine to laugh, and to squirm, and to wriggle and wiggle and buck. Every move she made sent jolts of pleasure shooting up her nervous system from her clitoris and her G spot, both of which were getting delicious stimulation from the configuration of Saul’s manly body. Then she came, even better than she had the first night with Saul.
Saul held his self control tight, and he lasted until Guine, utterly out of control due to the tickling, had felt 5 more orgasms. That was when Saul relaxed his iron hard control and let himself cum, just as Guine got off one last time.
Saul sent the two younger slaves away to pleasure each other while he unbound Guine and carried her to his sumptuous permanent sleeping couch. For the second time in her life, she fell asleep with her head resting on the broad chest of a man who had just given her pleasure beyond anything she had ever dreamed possible. Both had been the same man. She decided that she was in love.
The End
A Hysterical Historical
By Mastertank1
The next morning Saul awakened while Guine was still asleep. After gently disengaging her from where her limbs and his own were intertwined, he rose and dressed, and left her to sleep while he started his day.
Saul had noticed that Guine’s garment had become damaged when he removed it without unbinding her limbs. He told one of his chamber slaves to bring her a himation to replace the torn shift from last night.
Saul paused by one of the cookfires of his personal guard and shared that squad’s breakfast of porridge lightly flavored with meat. Then, he walked directly to the pavilion where the surgeons, physicians and chirurgeons plied their trades.
There had been remarkably few casualties among his men. Due to superior equipment, arms, tactics, training and health only 117 of his men had been killed and about twice that many wounded despite having inflicted losses in the thousands on their foes.
The doctors had relatively little to do. They reported that 4 of the injured would still almost certainly die, and about 100 would have to be retired as invalid. The rest would recover enough to return to full active duty.
Saul then called the doctors all into a conference to solve a problem for him. The result of that conference was that when Guine awoke halfway through the morning, the chief of Saul’s personal slave handlers had a pair of bootees made of soft leather waiting for her.
These items of footwear were filled with a cool creamy salve of some kind, and once they were fitted onto her feet, each one was laced snugly onto its respective ankle. A thin steel band was then placed around the leather of each bootee top and squeezed into place so that it could not be removed.
When that was done, Guine realized that Saul’s great pavilion tent, in which she had been sleeping, was the last structure left standing in the camp. Everything else, including the palisade and watchtowers of wood, had been taken down. All the re-useable parts had been stored in the wagons of the Legion’s supply train. Even the earth mound that had formed the base of the palisade had been shoveled back into the defensive ditch it had come from.
Guine was loaded into a covered wagon with a few other preferred slaves of high ranking soldiers. The only other people who rode were the wounded and the dead, in separate conveyances. Everyone else, soldier or captive or slave, marched on their own two legs or, if an officer, rode a horse.
That day’s march was deliberately short, covering only 30 miles instead of the usual 50 and stopping on a hilltop not too far from a small wood. While most of the Legion built a new castra and the cavalry rode guard patrol, large details cut down the near edge of the woods for some distance back.
The 4 wounded who had been expected to die had done so. That evening, before the evening meal was served, there was a funeral service. Then, 121 funeral pyres were lit. The volatile and aromatic oils the logs and faggots had been splashed with caused each pyre to catch instantly. The pleasant scents of the oils at first mingled oddly with and then masked the smell of burning flesh.
A messenger summoned Saul to confer with Artur, and Guine spent the next three nights alone. She was well treated, but puzzled that the bootees she had been made to wear were never allowed to come off.
They didn’t hurt or itch or anything unpleasant, but the way the salve made them squish with every step felt distinctly odd. She wondered what the purpose was.
Saul caught up with the marching column three days later, the day they reached the Legion’s permanent home, Castrum Legio Yorkensis. The Fortress Of The Legion Of York. Guine had marveled at the way the legionaries tore down a marching fort every morning, stored the parts, marched 50 miles and then used the parts plus local dirt to build a new fort to sleep in each night. No wonder the northern fighters had stood no chance against them!
That night Guine knelt at Saul’s left side and served him as he ate dinner. She and all other serving slaves had been fed BEFORE the main dinner was served, not after as in most households. When Saul rose to leave, he waved her to accompany him.
When they had entered in mid-afternoon, she had quickly realized that the permanent fortress was simply a scaled-up marching castra constructed in stone instead of wood, and several stories high in places. She now followed Saul up the ramps to his private chambers.
An older slave woman awaited within, accompanied by several burly and muscular younger women. The older slave had several implements to hand, and some unidentified bottles and jars.
Saul led the group of women to the baths. He stripped and plunged into the pool, then came up and went to the side where Guine and the other waited. He told Guine to sit on the edge of the pool. Two of the burly ones sat to either side of her, while the rest and the older one entered the pool and stood around Saul, who was now right in front of her.
With his powerful hands, Saul easily twisted the steel bands off from the tops of the bootees on Guine’s feet. Then he stepped away and reclined on the steps of the pool, observing.
The bootees came off and were tossed away. As soon as Guine’s bare feet were placed in the warm water, the layer of smooth, tough callous began to slough away. Guine was shocked that it didn’t hurt at all. The older woman took one of Guine’s feet in her hand and began to administer a pedicure.
Guine jerked her foot away. It was so incredibly sensitive this way, with the callus removed! The six burlies now revealed the reason for their presence. The ones seated next to Guine each grabbed one of her arms and clasped down. The four who had entered the pool formed two pairs, and each pair grabbed one of Guine’s legs.
Guine struggled mightily, but the sextet of burlies kept a firm grip. The pedicurist slave deliberately made her touch firm, even rough, but it still tickled a little as every last shred of protective callous was removed. Guine squirmed, writhed and giggled, but had no other choice but to endure.
Saul grinned through Guine’s mildly ticklish pedicure ordeal. When it was done, he lifted her down into the pool and they were both cleansed thoroughly by the slaves. When the bath was complete, they were both dried, oiled and massaged. Every time her newly tender soles or toes were touched, Guine had to fight back giggles, even though the slaves were trying their best not to tickle.
Saul picked Guine up and carried her in the crook of his massive left arm. Both of them were quite naked, and Saul at least was quite un-self-concious about it. He took her into his bedchamber and dropped the curtains to close behind them.
Put down on the spotlessly clean floor, Guine noticed at once that the stones beneath her bare soles were pleasantly warm, not icy cold as those in her home castle would have been at this time of the year. She had heard that some Roman homes had that feature, called a hypocaust.
Slaves stoked a furnace on the floor below, while other slaves worked bellows to drive the air warmed by the fire through airways engineered into the stones of the floor when it was built. The bathing pool had been kept warm by a similar arrangement.
Saul undraped a special chair he had designed himself. On the last day’s march, he had sent a cavalry messenger ahead to order the garrison’s head carpenter to build it, and to have it ready by tonight.
Saul grasped Guine by her hips and picked her up bodily. He gently deposited her on the chair. Saul raised Guine’s arms and fastened her strong but slender wrists into two broad, adjustable cuffs of brown leather at the top of the solid, padded and leather covered chair back. Saul seated himself facing Guine, his back resting against a larger and stouter chair back. From either side of Saul’s chair back, a leather covered iron bar extended forward in Guine’s direction.
Each padded bar had two wide cuffs attached; one near the chair back and one out at the end of the bar. Saul raised Guine’s shapely legs one by one and fastened them to the padded bars. The cuffs near Saul’s chair back went around Guine’s lower calves just above her ankles; the cuffs at the far ends of the bars went around her legs at mid-calf, just below the point where each calf began to curve in to the knee hollow.
A small side table was positioned just within reach of Saul’s right hand. A number of items were arrayed on the table top. Guine now noticed that table and what it held. She put it all together; what Saul had done to her the first night he owned her. What he had ordered done to remove the thick, sensitivity dulling layer of callus from the bottoms of her feet. The proximity of those newly soft, tender and sensitive feet to her owner. Finally, the items arrayed on the table.
As Saul picked up a pair of light, airy ostrich plumes, transferring one to his left hand, Guine knew what her fate was that night. With a mixture of fear and anticipation, she found herself wondering just how terrible or wonderful it was going to be.
Saul leaned forward and blew softly on her bare feet. The passage of his warm breath across that softened skin tickled enough to make Guine giggle. Now she knew she was in for it.
Leaning back again, Saul idly trailed the fronds of one plume across Guine’s left sole. This time she burst into laughter! Guine couldn’t believe that her once callous clad feet had been made so incredibly ticklish! Saul settled in to enjoy the exquisite vulnerability of his new toy.
He spent a few minutes teasing her left foot with the plume. Guine tried as hard as she could, but her willpower just was not equal to forcing herself to stop laughing. She tried so hard, but her feet were now simply too ticklish!
Saul paused to let Guine get her breath back. Then he repeated the maddening tease, only now on her right foot. Again, she exploded in laughter. Again, he continued for several minutes, enjoying her increasing loss of control.
Saul gave her a second break. When he resumed this time, both of the plumes were worked. Both of Guine’s feet were caressed by the soft, tickly fronds at the same time. Her helpless laughter more than doubled.
Saul leaned back against the padded support. His eyes jumped from Guine’s face to her feet to her body and back again. He loved the growing expression of desperation that seemed to be spreading across Guine’s lovely face. He was delighted by the delicious wriggling and undulating of her gorgeous body as it involuntarily fought to escape from the bonds which held it in such a vulnerable position.
Saul adored the way the nipples were growing on her perfect little breasts, betraying the fact that even now, at the very beginning of her night’s torment, she was becoming uncontrollably aroused. He was deeply absorbed in the way her beautiful, shapely feet flexed and twitched, twisting from side to side, the way her cute little toes curled over towards him and then flexed back away.
The feathers slowly wandered up and down for some time. Then they changed direction. For a while they stroked from side to side, then they swirled around and around.
No matter what Guine did, no matter how she struggled, those tickly fronds never lost contact with her tender foot skin for even so much as a split second. Nor did they ever stop moving, which meant that she was unable to stop reacting to the constant tease. She couldn’t hold still and she couldn’t stop laughing, not if her life were to depend on it!
Saul and Guine had something oddly in common. Both of them were fascinated by Guine’s utter helplessness under this ticklish, teasing torment. Both of them, for different reasons and perceiving the matter from opposite sides, were becoming increasingly turned on by Guine’s helplessness.
Saul got quite carried away. He suddenly realized that he had continued a bit longer than he intended. He stopped and observed Guine as her sweet laughter subsided and she regained control of her breathing. He was gratified that the visible signs of her arousal did not subside, not in the least. He smiled as he put the plumes back on the table and instead picked up two long, soft but firm, round tipped feathers from a Gray Goose.
This time the tickling sensations Guine felt were far more intense. The soft feather stroking the bottom of her right foot made her wail with laughter. Again Saul relaxed, enjoying her happy distress as he caused it for several minutes.
Then he let her get her breath back. Then he tickled her left foot with the Goose quill for several minutes.
This time, between gasps, she begged Saul to take her right then. All of this tickling was making her feel so amazingly horny! She remembered how it had felt, having Saul inside of her while he tickled her on the first night she had belonged to him. She had liked it very much, to her own deep surprise, and at this moment she wanted it again. She wanted it desperately.
Even more desperately, Guine wanted to distract Saul from tickling both of her defenseless feet at once with those terrible Goose quills! No chance of that. After letting her breathing grow regular while he ignored her pleas, Saul began teasing the frantically flexing and wrinkling soles of both tenderized feet with the feathers.
This time, right from the start, there was a note of desperation in Guine’s laughter. It was getting to be too intense for her. It tickled so maddeningly! It was driving her wild! She hated it, and yet she loved it. Guine prayed to her Goddess to give her the strength to not just endure, but to enjoy pleasure that was so intense as to be unbearable!
Saul used the edges of these firmer feathers to explore the little wrinkles that formed when she scrunched up her feet. He brushed the feather tips across the tips and undersides of her toes. He stroked the broad edges up and down her smooth arches.
Saul really liked the sweetness of the sound of Guine’s laugh. The slowly increasing fear of loss of control that was adding a creeping note of terror to that sound, the slowly growing undertone of despair only made the sound sweeter.
Saul was so engrossed in his close observation of Guine’s happy suffering that again he went on for far longer than he had intended to. In her mind Guine was praying to every God and Goddess she had ever heard of;
“Oh, please! If only those feathers would stop for a moment! Just a moment! If only they’d let me stop laughing! Just for a second or two! Make them stop! Please, make them stop!”
Of course, all that actually emerged from her wide open mouth was the sound of her laughter. When he noticed tears starting to roll down Guine’s cheeks, Saul stopped the tickling and put down the feathers.
With that wide, wicked grin that excited her so, Saul asked Guine; “Do you want me to take you now, Guine? I know you enjoyed how it felt when you had me inside of you, that first time. Do you crave that again? Your body, it seems, is trying to tell me that you do!”
Guine only nodded her head in a vigorous yes. Saul scooted forward, entirely ready, and entered her. Guine was just getting into the rhythm of their mutual thrusts and enjoying Saul’s kiss on her mouth, when he signaled to a pair of other slave girls who had been standing quietly in the shadows.
The two younger girls stepped forward. Each of them picked up one of the Goose quills Saul had discarded. One of them standing by each of Guine’s helplessly immobilized bare feet, and began slowly stroking the soles with the edges of the feathers.
Guine exploded in uncontrollable, mindless hysteria. Saul kept on slowly stroking inside her, he kissed her and captured her tongue, teasing it with his own and his lips. His hands were caressing and teasing her nipples, the undersides of her breasts and her highly ticklish underarms, wandering from target to target. The two younger slave girls were teasing and tickling Guine’s soft inner thighs with their free hands, but never stopped stroking Guine’s hyper sensitive, super ticklish feet with the feathers.
The feathers tickled the worst. They stroked, and they stroked, and they stroked. The relentless stroking of the feathers forced Guine to laugh, and to squirm, and to wriggle and wiggle and buck. Every move she made sent jolts of pleasure shooting up her nervous system from her clitoris and her G spot, both of which were getting delicious stimulation from the configuration of Saul’s manly body. Then she came, even better than she had the first night with Saul.
Saul held his self control tight, and he lasted until Guine, utterly out of control due to the tickling, had felt 5 more orgasms. That was when Saul relaxed his iron hard control and let himself cum, just as Guine got off one last time.
Saul sent the two younger slaves away to pleasure each other while he unbound Guine and carried her to his sumptuous permanent sleeping couch. For the second time in her life, she fell asleep with her head resting on the broad chest of a man who had just given her pleasure beyond anything she had ever dreamed possible. Both had been the same man. She decided that she was in love.
The End
