Mastertank1
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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Down in Alabama, Circa 1836
By Mastertank1
This story was written for and in honor of Isabeau of the TMF. The character of Melanie Wilkes is intended to represent Isabeau as well as I am able. The character of Matthew Gordon Senior is intended to represent me, Mastertank1. Any resemblance between any of the other characters and any actual living person is purely malicious.
Mastertank1
The story really began many years earlier. Ashton Wilkes, owner of Weathered Oaks plantation northwest of Mobile, Alabama decided to take a business trip to New York City. He told his brother Arthur, who owned Finiterre plantation on the gulf coast, and his already much neglected wife Melanie that he would be back in about six months.
Eight years later, Melanie and Arthur received letters informing them that Ashton had died in the far away northern city. Arthur, a childless widower, had to trek up to New York to conclude his late brother’s affairs.
He discovered, to his dismay, that these included an eight year long affair with a handsome younger man, who demanded to be paid off. Arthur also found, to his great anger, that his brother had been murdered violently.
There were no less than three rival police forces in New York City, all run on a for profit basis. None of them had any investigative capability. All would be willing to roust, beat, and even execute those responsible for Ashton’s murder if paid a suitable fee. The question of who that might be was Arthur’s to solve.
There were a City Sheriff and a City Marshal. The Sheriff’s only job was to seize property condemned by the criminal courts and collect fines assessed. The Marshall did nothing but enforce the monetary judgements issued by civil courts. Both operated on a percentage of what they collected.
Arthur, to his credit, tried to investigate on his own. This almost led to his death at the hands of the friends of the youthful object of the late Ashton’s affections. Arthur was rescued at the last moment by 13 year old Matty Gordon Junior, self-elected leader of the infamous and feared Five Points street gang called the Bowery Grenadiers. Seeing a group of nancy boys mobbing a toff, Matty shouted the battle cry of his gang; “Grenadiers! Light the fuse!!”
The four 20-something toughs who were attacking Wilkes found themselves mobbed by a dozen knife wielding teenagers. Quickly deciding that cowardice was the better part of survival, the quartet ran for the hills, screaming in four part harmony.
Arthur hired Matty to guard him for the rest of his stay in New York. During their rambles around the great city, the two developed a mutual respect and affection. Matty told Arthur he had ‘more balls than brains’. Arthur told Matty that he had more brains than anyone, including himself, gave him credit for.
When Arthur went home at the end of the summer, his quest still incomplete, he left Marry some very nice gifts; a hotel room with rent, maid and meal service prepaid for five years. A full, four season wardrobe of custom made clothes for a young gentleman of means, including larger sizes for him to grow into in the future. A fully paid, two year enrollment in a private school, with personal tutors to make up for his previous lack of education.
Forward to 1836. Fifteen year old Matty Gordon has just graduated with honors from his fancy school, having absorbed ten years worth of instruction in two. He returns to his room in the Ritz Hotel from the graduation celebration, accompanied by his father, Matthew Gordon Senior, who has grown accustomed to living in clean clothes and in a clean room over the past two years.
Senior has been acting as Matty Junior’s counselor while the young man put together a huge coalition of street gangs. At this point the gang coalition could lay greater claim to running the city than the mayor could.
On the way up to his room, Matty stopped at the desk for his mail. He noticed right off a large envelope from an attorney in Mobile Alabama.
The large envelope held two smaller envelopes and a cover letter. The letter informed Matty that he was the sole heir the Finiterre plantation and all its contents, and a bank account in Mobile amounting to $160,000.
The larger of the internal envelopes contained an inventory of Finiterre. There was a map showing the land, a list of tenants with the amounts of the rents, and a detail list of the contents of the manor house, with floor plans.
After each item was a notation of its value. There were a dozen and a half of individual items in the house which each held a value approaching the amount in the bank account. These were objects of artistic value.
As the map had included s list of the farming equipment and livestock, including field slaves, with the value of each, the house inventory included a list of house slaves. The value of the house slaves was far greater than that of the field hands. The last item on that list caught Matty’s eye; “Lorna, high yaller fancy bed slave, acquired at the Octoroon Ball in New Orleans, June 30, 1836; value $57,775.”
“Holy hell!” Matty thought. It was then July 19, 1836. The letter from the lawyer was dated July 12. “I’ll bet the randy old man bought this fine young thing for himself, and doing her killed him!”
Matty turned out to be wrong. The remaining envelope was a personal letter from Arthur. Matty opened it. He read of how Arthur considered the sons he himself had never had. He read that Arthur had been getting regular reports from the school, and was gratified to learn that Matty was even more intelligent than Arthur had thought he was.
Matty read about Arthur’s plans to have Matty move down to Finiterre, now that his education was complete, and take over running the place he would eventually inherit. Matty read about how Arthur had purchased Lorna, a half –octoroon who had been trained from birth until her current age of 18 to become the bed slave and companion of a wealthy and educated man, to be a 16th birthday gift to him from Arthur. The letter explained that Lorna was the child of a true octoroon (1/8 black] father and an exotic Chinese mother. Even though that made her only 1/16 black, under the laws of the southern states that still made her a slave for life.
The letter went on to state that Lorna’s beauty was nothing less than breathtaking. Her accomplishments as a musician, singer, dancer, and painter were truly remarkable. She was fluent in English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Creole, Cajun, Greek and Choctaw. She had been trained to run a large and affluent household, and had the skills of a gourmet chef.
Lorna had been trained to be infinitely skilled and complaisant in the bedroom, but Arthur could not testify as to the effectiveness of this training. He had never sampled her skills. Arthur intended to present her to Matty virgo intacta, so that Matty could be her first and only lover.
Then Arthur made a request of Matty. Arthur wrote at length about Melanie Wilkes, the lovely, sweet, gentle, intelligent 50 year old childless widow of Arthur’s late brother Ashton. Arthur went on to explain that Melanie, whose education had included classical flute and Latin, had generally led a very sheltered life.
Melanie had gone from her father’s home to Ashton’s. After Ashton abandoned his home for his male paramour in New York, Arthur had taken up the task of interceding between Melanie and the harshness of the world. Her childlessness was probably due to those proclivities of Ashton’s which Matty knew of.
Arthur, knowing he was in his terminal illness and soon to die, was very afraid that someone might try to take advantage of Melanie. Arthur mentioned that he knew Matty to be a strong and honorable young man, and implored Matty to travel to Alabama as soon as possible and take up the responsibility of caring for Melanie.
Matty called to his father, who was pouring a whiskey at the room’s bar; “Hoy, Da! Read this letter! That Toff who set me up here and in the school just kicked off, and he’s gone and left his whole kit and kaboodle to me!”
“Garn!” Said Senior. “You must be joshin’ me! That man was serious rich, boyo! He left you EVERYTHING?”
“Everything, Da. And pay special attention to the last part of the letter. I’m thinkin’ this lovely widow Melanie Wilkes is a job that requires you’re own special talents. I know you’ve been with no one since Ma died. You’re just 57. That’s too young to let yourself dry up and just blow away on the wind Da! This Melanie’s supposed to be beautiful, she’s 50, she’s damn near untouched ‘cause her late husband was a nancy boy, and she needs a protector. She owns her own plantation, and she’s rich.”
“How do you know that last, Matty?” Senior asked as he read.
“Arthur once told me that Ashton was worth about half of what he was. When I add the totals from the map and the house inventory to the bank account, close to four millions just fell on my head. If Ashton had half that, then Melanie must be worth two million.”
“I’ll not be takin’ any o’ that from her now! If you’re askin’ me to take up this job of protector that’s just what I’ll be. I’m not the kind of a blackguard to steal from a widow!”
‘I Know that, Da. No more am I. It’s the way you raised me.”
Tossing his drink down, Senior said; “Well, if we’re goin’, we’d best be about it. We’ve lots to prepare.”
“That we do.” Matty replied. “I’m for the bank first, then the railroad office and the telegraph office. You make arrangements to get all our stuff packed and shipped, have the carriage and six loaded on the special train I’m to set up, and for freight wagons to meet us at the other end of the trip.”
The following afternoon, Matty and Matthew set forth on a six car special train Matty had hired, with override through priority over all other traffic on the lines. There was a luxury sleeper car, a kitchen and crew car, a flatbed car with a crane, a regular sleeper, a regular diner car and a freight boxcar. The caboose was considered a part of the consist, along with the engine and tender. The engine was one of the newest and most powerful on the line, and it pulled the short train at just over double the usual 30 mile per hour speed of express trains and fast freights.
Avoiding the potential delay of large cities, they ate all their meals from the kitchen car, served in the drawing room of the luxury sleeper, and stayed on the main line. Forty four hours after their 6 P.M. departure from Grand Central Station in New York, the special train stopped at the Finiterre freight station.
The plantation had it’s own siding, station and loading dock for shipping it’s products to the port of Mobile and receiving the owners purchases from afar. It was now 1 P.M. Central Time, on July 22nd. The plantation staff had the freight wagons ready. The crane lowered the Gordon’s racing carriage while the six horse team came down the ramp from the boxcar.
A large safe was placed on a wagon. Inside the safe were the earnings of the grand coalition of street gangs of New York City for the past year and a half. This came to almost half a million dollars, all of it in gold coin.
Twenty young men, ranging from 18 to 25 in age, came down from the sleeper with luggage in hand. They were dressed like well to do artisans, well but not extravagantly. In a way, they were. These were the deadliest killers from the gangs of the Five Points. Among them they represented the Bowery Grenadiers, the Dead Rabbits, The Gas House Boys, the Irish Guards, the Skull Smashers, and the Welsh Dragoons.
By 4 P.M. all the cargo had been transferred to the big manor house and the unpacking started. The lawyer from Mobile had been there to greet them. He was armed with a sketch of Matty, sent by the headmaster of the school, to verify that the property was being turned over to the right person. Matty asked the lawyer to stay the night so they would have a chance to talk.
They broke for dinner at 6. Over the coffee and brandy at the end, Matty asked the lawyer about Melanie’s situation. It seemed some neighbor, universally detested in the area, and had just produced an alleged debt instrument allowing him to take over weathered Oaks unless he was paid $50,000 within a week. Senior said; “Has anyone seen this instrument?”
The lawyer answered; “Not to my knowledge.”
Matty caught his father’s eye and nodded. Senior nodded back. They knew how to handle this.
The next morning they all had breakfast. They sent the attorney on his way. Then they saddled two horses from the stables, hitched up the fast team to the racing carriage, and with six of the bully boys from New York and some gifts they had bought there for Melanie they set out for Weathered Oaks.
They arrived in late morning at Weathered Oaks. The butler announced them and Melanie received them in the Drawing room. Senior’s eyebrows nearly climbed into his head hair. This vision of elfin beauty was 50 years old? She was gorgeous! She didn’t look a day over 43 either.
Short, flaxen hair, 5 foot 2, compelling dark eyes, fair complexion, sweet wide oval face, lines from smiles, not frowns. Long, elegant neck, feminine shoulders and well rounded arms. Sexy curves, prominent but not excessive breasts, deliciously feminine hips. Both senior and Matty, who were very interested in women’s feet, could tell by the little slippers peeping out from under her dress that her feet were size 5 and a half. Senior would happily be her protector, and more if he could swing it.
They presented the gifts; bonnets, dress fabrics, wall decorations and fragrances, when the butler, with a pronounced look of distaste, announced;
“Mistah Glassah is heah.”
Right behind him came a short, ugly, muscular man with extremely short hair, who was saying; “Don’t rise for me, Miz Wilkes! Just lookin over this soon to be mine property......Oh. Who are these gentlemen?”
Senior looked at Matty, who nodded for him to take the lead. Senior stood up. At 6 foot 1 inch, with his size 60 shoulders, deep chest, thick limbs, full head of hair, beard and moustache of mixed silver and deep chestnut brown, Matthew Gordon at age 57 was a sight to daunt much younger men. After glaring at Glasser for several smoldering seconds, he spoke; “We are the heirs of Mr. Arthur Wilkes and the new owners of Finiterre. We were charged, in his will, with caring for and protecting the widow of his brother, a task which I accept gladly! If you allege to have a debt instrument which gives you the right to claim Weathered Oaks, you will take up the matter with me, sir!”
“Allege? There is no alleging about it! Do you doubt my word?”
“ I find the fact that the debt instrument you claim to hold, supposedly signed by a man who died two years ago, has only now emerged, is very suspicious. It is very convenient that you try to enforce this so called instrument against the widow of the alleged signer, a woman known to be properly sheltered and unworldly, immediately after the death of her only protector. Had you known that a new protector had been appointed, I wonder if this ‘instrument’ would ever have surfaced! I go beyond merely doubting your word sirrah! I give you the lie direct! If you demand satisfaction, here I stand, ready to give it at any time!”
Glasser was taken aback. He stammered; “No need for that! Now that you’ve pointed that out, it sure does look suspicious. I take no offense.”
“Do you have the instrument with you?’
“I do sir.”
“I wish to examine it.”
“Surely. Here it is”
“Hmmmn. Where and when do you say Ashton signed this?”
“Three years ago, in the offices of my attorney in Mobile.”
“Interesting. Mr. Glasser, do you happen to know the very fastest time in which a round trip between Mobile Alabama and New York, New York can be accomplished?”
“Uh, about a week, I suppose. Why?”
“Because Ashton Wilkes spent the last eight years of his life resident in New York City’s Hotel Romney, where he signed the register every day without fail when he checked his mail. There was no period of even one day when he failed to sign the register. Therefore, he could not have been here at any time in the last eight years. He could not have signed this paper. This is a forgery, and you are a damned and damnable liar! Have you any more copies of this foul calumny?”
“Uh, no. That’s the only one.”
“Fine.” Matthew tore the paper in halves, quarters, eighths and sixteenths, placed it in a large glass ashtray, and pulled a box of Lucifer matches from his coat pocket. He struck one on the box and lit the fragments of the paper, watching it until it was gone. Turning to Glasser, he said; “Sirrah! If you are still here by the time I count to ten, I shall hammer you so badly, I vow you shall never again walk under your own power! If you ever dare to trouble this fine lady again, I shall have the life out of you, God as my witness!!”
Glasser fled. Melanie gazed up at Matthew with wonder and adoration in her eyes. They all returned to the interrupted conversation. Melanie invited them to lunch, but Matty pleaded a press of business at Finiterre and rode away. The six new York toughs mounted guard.
Matthew spent the afternoon skillfully charming Melanie. She invited him to dinner. After the meal, Matthew announced; “With your permission, I’ll sleep on your porch tonight, in case that base fellow is moved by the base emotion of revenge.”
Again, Melanie gazed up at him, speechless with gratitude. He was her hero.
Later, as Matthew relaxed on the porch with a glass of whiskey and a pipeful of good tobacco, Melanie crept out on the porch. Sitting beside him, she hesitantly suggested; “Dear Matthew, why not come inside? It gets chilly out here at night, even at this time of year, with the breeze off the gulf.”
“I can endure the discomfort for the sake of your reputation, my dear.”
“Bother my reputation. I am a 50 year old woman who has never known a man, because my husband was ever interested in boys. You are by far the manliest, most exciting man I have ever met. Would you think it entirely scandalous, would it repel you, to know that I desire you shamelessly? What would you say, if I asked you, right now, here in my home to take me to that bed which was always cold and lonely even when shared with a disinterested husband, and fill it and me with the warmth a marriage bed should be home to?”
“I say I would give thanks to God for his great generosity, first for creating you, and second for sending me here to protect you, and finally for bestowing your desire upon this undeserving old man.”
“I fear that I may disappoint you. I lack all experience, and fear I may freeze with fear when we touch.”
“Hmmm. Are ticklish, dear Melanie?”
Blushing, she answered; “Well, yes. I am. Extremely, in fact. I have been ever since I was a child. Why do you ask?”
“One more question first. Are your feet ticklish?”
“Yes! More than anyplace else! Now tell me why you ask!”
“For a woman, to be ticklish can be the greatest of blessings. It allows a man who knows what he’s doing to overcome both inexperience and fear on her part.”
Practically glowing, Melanie told him; “I know you are just such a man!”
They went inside and up the stairs to Melanie’s bedchamber. Melanie shyly and hesitantly began to undress, but Matthew stopped her. “No my dear. Let me disrobe you. Just close your lovely eyes and enjoy the sensations of being caressed.”
Now, it took a few layers of clothing removal to bare any skin, but once that stage was reached Matthew was as good as his word. He began gently, sensually caressing Melanie.
He began by caressing her now bare arms and shoulders. He turned her hands and kissed the center of each palm, fluttering his lips and tongue on the sensitive flesh. Melanie, now wearing only slippers, underbottoms, stockings and her innermost chemise, blushed as her nipples grew erect.
Placing her hands behind her back, Matthew kissed Melanie’s mouth. The kiss was slow and gentle, long and sensual. Melanie felt herself melting inside, then all at once became unsure and began to freeze up. Matthew detected her reaction, and interrupted her introspective reaction by tickling the sides of her neck with both hands. Melanie burst into sweet little giggles, and while she was giggling he kissed her again.
Matthew bent down to grasp the hem of Melanie’s chemise and lifted it over her head. He quickly slipped behind her, gently but firmly pinned her arms to her sides and began to softly tickle her belly and sides.
Melanie started to laugh uncontrollably, doubling over. Matthew gently straightened her back up and kissed her neck while tickling her ribs. Laughing harder, Melanie turned her head to look at Matthew while he tickled her. Matthew took the opportunity to kiss her mouth again while his hands began tickling and teasing her breasts. Her laughter grew wilder and wilder.
During the long lonely years, Melanie had fondly imagined that the touch of a lover would feel good. She had never imagined it would feel this good. This was wonderful! It would only get better, for the two Matthew Gordons, senior and junior, were both highly skilled at giving pleasure to women.
Matthew lifted the diminutive Melanie into the air and deposited her on the bed, deliberately making her shapely behind bounce upward slightly. He used that bounce to whip off her underbottoms, then sat on the bed and slowly peeled off her stockings. As each stocking crept down her leg, Melanie could feel Matthew teasing the newly bared flesh with his lips, tickling it with his tongue, gently grazing it with his teeth, maddeningly tickling it with his long, silky beard. Melanie felt that she was being slowly driven mad, but had never in her life felt so happy.
When the slow progress of the stocking fabric bared her heels, Melanie discovered that she was incredibly ticklish there. She laughed wildly, quite out of control. Somehow, the wide grin on Matthews face thrilled her to the core of her being! Then the center of her foot bottoms was revealed. The flats of her soles were at least twice as ticklish as her heels. It was exquisite, wonderful agony. Then she found out that the arches of her feet were twice as ticklish as the soles. Melanie laughed harder than ever, She knew she could absolutely not stand even one second more of the unbearable ticklish torment, and yet at the same time it thrilled and excited her so, it pleased her so intensely, that she wanted Matthew to keep on tickling her forever.
Melanie’s stockings came all the way off. Matthew was using his whole repertoire of tickling techniques on her toes and the balls of her feet. This actually tickled a little bit less. The sensitivity on the balls of Melanie’s feet was about halfway between those of her heels and those of the flats of her soles. Her toes were more sensitive than the flats of her soles, but less so than her delicate, high and deep arches. Even though it tickled less, Melanie enjoyed it just as much.
All the denied, suppressed passions of a lifetime were being released at the same time. Melanie was shamelessly reveling in the gentle, knowing caresses of the first lover she had ever known.
The headboard of her bed was ornately carved and had several large openings. Matthew slid her arms through two of those, and tied them in place with her own stockings, securing them just below the elbow. The tying left a long end of each stocking lying on the pillow next to Melanie’s head.
Matthew let the weight of his massive upper body pin Melanie’s luscious hips to the bed while he started to torment her helplessly displayed underarms. Melanie laughed, and writhed, and laughed, and squirmed, and laughed, and wriggled, and laughed, and wiggled. Most of all, she enjoyed! This was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her!
Matthew leaned forward to nibble and lick Melanie’s erect nipples, making them harder and harder until they were visibly throbbing with the force of her heartbeat. As he did this, his long silky whiskers tickled the undersides of Melanie’s full breasts in the most delightfully maddening manner. Melanie’s thoughts were chaotic. Had she died? Was this heaven? Was Matthew an angel? With last bit coherence left in the flood of joyful sensation, Melanie decided that yes, Matthew was an angel, her special guardian angel! She felt herself falling in love with him.
Matthew began to move his kisses down Melanie’s nude body. They fell on the undercurves of her breasts, on her ribs cage, on her belly. The tip of his tongue drilled wickedly into Melanie’s innie bellybutton, making her emit shrills of sheer delight while his hands shifted the ticklish caresses down to her sweetly curved sides.
After several minutes of this, Matthew left of the tickling. While Melanie gasped for breath, face lit up by a smile of pure happiness, Matthew gently spread her shapely legs, and planted a long, warm kiss in the hollow behind each knee. For the first time in what seemed like hours, these kisses provoked verbal expressions from Melanie other than laughter. What she actually said was; “Oh! Oooooh! Mmmmmm. Mmmhmm! Oh, yes! Yes! YES!”
Matthew paused to look up at her face from his unusual vantage point.
“Having fun, darling Melanie?” He asked.
With a positively beatific smile on her sweet face, Melanie dreamily murmured; “Yes Matthew. Dear Matthew. Oh, dear Lord yes. Mmmmm!”
That last was her response when Matthew planted a kiss a couple of inches up the inner side of her left thigh. Matthew slowly and quite lewdly kissed his way up the inner sides of Melanie’s beautiful, sensitive thighs. His lips, tongue, teeth and beard teased her and tickled her wonderfully, making her giggle in helpless delight while her raging arousal reached the level of sheer desperation as his kisses moved higher and higher. Melanie desperately needed to cum, but in her lack of experience the poor innocent didn’t even have the words to ask for what she wanted! Fortunately for Melanie, her wise and experienced lover knew without being told.
Melanie’s eyes shot wide open. She gasped in shock. Surely, he couldn’t be kissing her there! Not There! But he was. Matthew’s upper lip softly and ever so tenderly peeled back the little hood of skin that covered Melanie’s clitoris. Then, making sure that his lips and tongue were thoroughly wet first, he gently engulfed the throbbingly erect little nubbin of skin and began to deliberately stimulate all of it’s well over 4000 nerve endings.
Matthews lips glided tenderly up and down the little shaft, while his tongue gently swirled around and around the tiny tip. Meanwhile, his eyes were gazing up the length of Melanie’s body, carefully watching her face. When he saw that embarrassment was beginning to detract from her enjoyment, he reached out with both hands and started to tickle behind her knees.
Melanie, startled by the sudden tickle, burst into sweet giggles. Embarrassment driven right out of her mind by the delicious tickle, Melanie’s womanly hips began helplessly thrusting towards the mouth which was sending such pleasure along her every nerve.
Matthew rapidly slid his hands over Melanie’s sexily curvy calves and well turned ankles to wickedly tickle the soles of her feet. The weight of his huge shoulders, lying across her thighs, held her legs helplessly pinned in place. She exploded in peals of wild, raucous laughter. The tickling sensations were simply too much to endure. But she couldn’t escape, or fight back, or cover up, or do anything other than laugh and squirm.
The sheer intensity of the tickle drove every last inhibition out of Melanie’s head. Twelve seconds after exploding in laughter, she exploded in the very first orgasm she had ever known. It was incredible. It was amazing. It was like heaven on earth. It was just the beginning.
About thirty seconds after cumming for the first time in her life, the petite beauty felt her whole body become twice as sensitive. Her feet twice as ticklish, her clit twice as responsive. Five minutes later, laughing harder than ever, she came for the second time. Incredibly, it was even better than the first!
In the next fifteen minutes she came three more times. To Melanie’s growing wonder, each one continued to be better than the one before it. Her feet also seemed to keep getting more desperately, frantically ticklish! She couldn’t endure it, and yet she still loved to be tickled so much! It was very confusing, so Melanie simply enjoyed.
Just as she felt her sixth climax building, Melanie was surprised when Matthew removed his mouth from her person. He rose to his knees and took hold of her ankles. Matthew then carefully raised Melanie’s lovely legs upward until he was able to wrap the loose ends of the stockings securing her arms around her trim ankles.
Melanie was gazing in amazement at her own bare feet alongside her head to either side when she suddenly felt the most wonderful sensation. Matthew’s male member, which Melanie had no way to know was unusually thick, was slowly penetrating her sopping wet pussy. As thick as it was, it slid easily in because it was so well lubricated by then. Melanie’s hymen had been broken in a horseback riding mishap decades ago, so there was no pain to distract her from the luscious friction created as the thick cock moved her own surrounding flesh against her clit. Then an additional source of pleasure was added as the head of Matthew’s cock reached her G spot.
Matthew leaned forward, letting the backs of Melanie’s thighs and calves take parts of his weight. Every additional bit of sensation increased her pleasure, but she was just wondering how she could get him to move a bit more when she suddenly felt all ten of his fingertips gliding all over the bottoms of her helplessly bound bare feet!
Melanie’s lungs strained to laugh louder and louder and impossibly louder! Her hips and loins bucked, thrashed and twisted in ticklish desperation, each involuntary movement causing new waves of pleasure to emanate from her clit and her G spot! Her feet waved and twisted about, but she couldn’t break contact with Matthew’s roaming fingers for even the tiniest fragment of a second!
In the few seconds before her eyes filled up with tears of tickled agony, Melanie saw the grin of sadistic pleasure on Matthew’s handsome face, and it thrilled her beyond measure, adding to her joy. As hysterical tears streamed from her lovely eyes, Melanie’s body presented her with the best climax yet.
Melanie’s wild emotions were running away with her! Somehow, to be so completely defenseless in the powerful hands of her sweet angel Matthew just felt so impossibly right and good!
Paradoxically, while being tickle tortured unmercifully, never had Melanie felt so entirely safe and protected. Somehow she knew that her sweet Matthew, while taking an unholy glee in tickling and teasing her up to and over the brink of madness, would never allow any real harm to come to her. Also, on some deep down level of consciousness, Melanie knew that Matthew tortured her only to increase her pleasure.
Just at the moment after she had that thought, the mightiest orgasm yet erupted from the depths of Melanie’s womanhood to fill her entire being with an incandescent flood of sheer joy. Just a few seconds layer, while that vast orgasm while still roaring through her senses, Melanie felt Matthew release a great flood of cum deep inside her as he also climaxed.
Matthew unbound Melanie’s slender ankles and feminine, rounded arms from her now ruined stockings. He used the torn fabric to dry them both off as he slid out of her. Then Matthew gathered her tiny form up in his arms, holding her against his massive chest. He caressed, kissed and cuddled her until the exhausted beauty drifted off to a sleep filled with happy dreams.
As he lay there and watched Melanie sleep, Matthew vowed to himself that he really would become the protector he had promised to be. Melanie’s last thoughts before drifting off were of how happy she was to have managed to give her Matthew ( for so she now thought of him) at least one climax in return for the seven wonders he had bestowed upon her.
Then Melanie thought of how good, natural and right it felt to be helpless and defenseless in his hands. She thought of how it thrilled and excited her when he tickled her to madness. She thought of how sweet it was to be utterly out of control in the power of the one man she knew, just absolutely knew, would never hurt her or allow any harm to come to her. Then she slept.
Meanwhile, back at Finiterre, young Matty Junior was taking possession, in every sense of the word, of his early birthday present Lorna. Those events will soon be recounted in Down in Alabama, Circa 1836, Part 2.
As always, I solicit comments, critiques and illustrations.
Mastertank1
By Mastertank1
This story was written for and in honor of Isabeau of the TMF. The character of Melanie Wilkes is intended to represent Isabeau as well as I am able. The character of Matthew Gordon Senior is intended to represent me, Mastertank1. Any resemblance between any of the other characters and any actual living person is purely malicious.
Mastertank1
The story really began many years earlier. Ashton Wilkes, owner of Weathered Oaks plantation northwest of Mobile, Alabama decided to take a business trip to New York City. He told his brother Arthur, who owned Finiterre plantation on the gulf coast, and his already much neglected wife Melanie that he would be back in about six months.
Eight years later, Melanie and Arthur received letters informing them that Ashton had died in the far away northern city. Arthur, a childless widower, had to trek up to New York to conclude his late brother’s affairs.
He discovered, to his dismay, that these included an eight year long affair with a handsome younger man, who demanded to be paid off. Arthur also found, to his great anger, that his brother had been murdered violently.
There were no less than three rival police forces in New York City, all run on a for profit basis. None of them had any investigative capability. All would be willing to roust, beat, and even execute those responsible for Ashton’s murder if paid a suitable fee. The question of who that might be was Arthur’s to solve.
There were a City Sheriff and a City Marshal. The Sheriff’s only job was to seize property condemned by the criminal courts and collect fines assessed. The Marshall did nothing but enforce the monetary judgements issued by civil courts. Both operated on a percentage of what they collected.
Arthur, to his credit, tried to investigate on his own. This almost led to his death at the hands of the friends of the youthful object of the late Ashton’s affections. Arthur was rescued at the last moment by 13 year old Matty Gordon Junior, self-elected leader of the infamous and feared Five Points street gang called the Bowery Grenadiers. Seeing a group of nancy boys mobbing a toff, Matty shouted the battle cry of his gang; “Grenadiers! Light the fuse!!”
The four 20-something toughs who were attacking Wilkes found themselves mobbed by a dozen knife wielding teenagers. Quickly deciding that cowardice was the better part of survival, the quartet ran for the hills, screaming in four part harmony.
Arthur hired Matty to guard him for the rest of his stay in New York. During their rambles around the great city, the two developed a mutual respect and affection. Matty told Arthur he had ‘more balls than brains’. Arthur told Matty that he had more brains than anyone, including himself, gave him credit for.
When Arthur went home at the end of the summer, his quest still incomplete, he left Marry some very nice gifts; a hotel room with rent, maid and meal service prepaid for five years. A full, four season wardrobe of custom made clothes for a young gentleman of means, including larger sizes for him to grow into in the future. A fully paid, two year enrollment in a private school, with personal tutors to make up for his previous lack of education.
Forward to 1836. Fifteen year old Matty Gordon has just graduated with honors from his fancy school, having absorbed ten years worth of instruction in two. He returns to his room in the Ritz Hotel from the graduation celebration, accompanied by his father, Matthew Gordon Senior, who has grown accustomed to living in clean clothes and in a clean room over the past two years.
Senior has been acting as Matty Junior’s counselor while the young man put together a huge coalition of street gangs. At this point the gang coalition could lay greater claim to running the city than the mayor could.
On the way up to his room, Matty stopped at the desk for his mail. He noticed right off a large envelope from an attorney in Mobile Alabama.
The large envelope held two smaller envelopes and a cover letter. The letter informed Matty that he was the sole heir the Finiterre plantation and all its contents, and a bank account in Mobile amounting to $160,000.
The larger of the internal envelopes contained an inventory of Finiterre. There was a map showing the land, a list of tenants with the amounts of the rents, and a detail list of the contents of the manor house, with floor plans.
After each item was a notation of its value. There were a dozen and a half of individual items in the house which each held a value approaching the amount in the bank account. These were objects of artistic value.
As the map had included s list of the farming equipment and livestock, including field slaves, with the value of each, the house inventory included a list of house slaves. The value of the house slaves was far greater than that of the field hands. The last item on that list caught Matty’s eye; “Lorna, high yaller fancy bed slave, acquired at the Octoroon Ball in New Orleans, June 30, 1836; value $57,775.”
“Holy hell!” Matty thought. It was then July 19, 1836. The letter from the lawyer was dated July 12. “I’ll bet the randy old man bought this fine young thing for himself, and doing her killed him!”
Matty turned out to be wrong. The remaining envelope was a personal letter from Arthur. Matty opened it. He read of how Arthur considered the sons he himself had never had. He read that Arthur had been getting regular reports from the school, and was gratified to learn that Matty was even more intelligent than Arthur had thought he was.
Matty read about Arthur’s plans to have Matty move down to Finiterre, now that his education was complete, and take over running the place he would eventually inherit. Matty read about how Arthur had purchased Lorna, a half –octoroon who had been trained from birth until her current age of 18 to become the bed slave and companion of a wealthy and educated man, to be a 16th birthday gift to him from Arthur. The letter explained that Lorna was the child of a true octoroon (1/8 black] father and an exotic Chinese mother. Even though that made her only 1/16 black, under the laws of the southern states that still made her a slave for life.
The letter went on to state that Lorna’s beauty was nothing less than breathtaking. Her accomplishments as a musician, singer, dancer, and painter were truly remarkable. She was fluent in English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Creole, Cajun, Greek and Choctaw. She had been trained to run a large and affluent household, and had the skills of a gourmet chef.
Lorna had been trained to be infinitely skilled and complaisant in the bedroom, but Arthur could not testify as to the effectiveness of this training. He had never sampled her skills. Arthur intended to present her to Matty virgo intacta, so that Matty could be her first and only lover.
Then Arthur made a request of Matty. Arthur wrote at length about Melanie Wilkes, the lovely, sweet, gentle, intelligent 50 year old childless widow of Arthur’s late brother Ashton. Arthur went on to explain that Melanie, whose education had included classical flute and Latin, had generally led a very sheltered life.
Melanie had gone from her father’s home to Ashton’s. After Ashton abandoned his home for his male paramour in New York, Arthur had taken up the task of interceding between Melanie and the harshness of the world. Her childlessness was probably due to those proclivities of Ashton’s which Matty knew of.
Arthur, knowing he was in his terminal illness and soon to die, was very afraid that someone might try to take advantage of Melanie. Arthur mentioned that he knew Matty to be a strong and honorable young man, and implored Matty to travel to Alabama as soon as possible and take up the responsibility of caring for Melanie.
Matty called to his father, who was pouring a whiskey at the room’s bar; “Hoy, Da! Read this letter! That Toff who set me up here and in the school just kicked off, and he’s gone and left his whole kit and kaboodle to me!”
“Garn!” Said Senior. “You must be joshin’ me! That man was serious rich, boyo! He left you EVERYTHING?”
“Everything, Da. And pay special attention to the last part of the letter. I’m thinkin’ this lovely widow Melanie Wilkes is a job that requires you’re own special talents. I know you’ve been with no one since Ma died. You’re just 57. That’s too young to let yourself dry up and just blow away on the wind Da! This Melanie’s supposed to be beautiful, she’s 50, she’s damn near untouched ‘cause her late husband was a nancy boy, and she needs a protector. She owns her own plantation, and she’s rich.”
“How do you know that last, Matty?” Senior asked as he read.
“Arthur once told me that Ashton was worth about half of what he was. When I add the totals from the map and the house inventory to the bank account, close to four millions just fell on my head. If Ashton had half that, then Melanie must be worth two million.”
“I’ll not be takin’ any o’ that from her now! If you’re askin’ me to take up this job of protector that’s just what I’ll be. I’m not the kind of a blackguard to steal from a widow!”
‘I Know that, Da. No more am I. It’s the way you raised me.”
Tossing his drink down, Senior said; “Well, if we’re goin’, we’d best be about it. We’ve lots to prepare.”
“That we do.” Matty replied. “I’m for the bank first, then the railroad office and the telegraph office. You make arrangements to get all our stuff packed and shipped, have the carriage and six loaded on the special train I’m to set up, and for freight wagons to meet us at the other end of the trip.”
The following afternoon, Matty and Matthew set forth on a six car special train Matty had hired, with override through priority over all other traffic on the lines. There was a luxury sleeper car, a kitchen and crew car, a flatbed car with a crane, a regular sleeper, a regular diner car and a freight boxcar. The caboose was considered a part of the consist, along with the engine and tender. The engine was one of the newest and most powerful on the line, and it pulled the short train at just over double the usual 30 mile per hour speed of express trains and fast freights.
Avoiding the potential delay of large cities, they ate all their meals from the kitchen car, served in the drawing room of the luxury sleeper, and stayed on the main line. Forty four hours after their 6 P.M. departure from Grand Central Station in New York, the special train stopped at the Finiterre freight station.
The plantation had it’s own siding, station and loading dock for shipping it’s products to the port of Mobile and receiving the owners purchases from afar. It was now 1 P.M. Central Time, on July 22nd. The plantation staff had the freight wagons ready. The crane lowered the Gordon’s racing carriage while the six horse team came down the ramp from the boxcar.
A large safe was placed on a wagon. Inside the safe were the earnings of the grand coalition of street gangs of New York City for the past year and a half. This came to almost half a million dollars, all of it in gold coin.
Twenty young men, ranging from 18 to 25 in age, came down from the sleeper with luggage in hand. They were dressed like well to do artisans, well but not extravagantly. In a way, they were. These were the deadliest killers from the gangs of the Five Points. Among them they represented the Bowery Grenadiers, the Dead Rabbits, The Gas House Boys, the Irish Guards, the Skull Smashers, and the Welsh Dragoons.
By 4 P.M. all the cargo had been transferred to the big manor house and the unpacking started. The lawyer from Mobile had been there to greet them. He was armed with a sketch of Matty, sent by the headmaster of the school, to verify that the property was being turned over to the right person. Matty asked the lawyer to stay the night so they would have a chance to talk.
They broke for dinner at 6. Over the coffee and brandy at the end, Matty asked the lawyer about Melanie’s situation. It seemed some neighbor, universally detested in the area, and had just produced an alleged debt instrument allowing him to take over weathered Oaks unless he was paid $50,000 within a week. Senior said; “Has anyone seen this instrument?”
The lawyer answered; “Not to my knowledge.”
Matty caught his father’s eye and nodded. Senior nodded back. They knew how to handle this.
The next morning they all had breakfast. They sent the attorney on his way. Then they saddled two horses from the stables, hitched up the fast team to the racing carriage, and with six of the bully boys from New York and some gifts they had bought there for Melanie they set out for Weathered Oaks.
They arrived in late morning at Weathered Oaks. The butler announced them and Melanie received them in the Drawing room. Senior’s eyebrows nearly climbed into his head hair. This vision of elfin beauty was 50 years old? She was gorgeous! She didn’t look a day over 43 either.
Short, flaxen hair, 5 foot 2, compelling dark eyes, fair complexion, sweet wide oval face, lines from smiles, not frowns. Long, elegant neck, feminine shoulders and well rounded arms. Sexy curves, prominent but not excessive breasts, deliciously feminine hips. Both senior and Matty, who were very interested in women’s feet, could tell by the little slippers peeping out from under her dress that her feet were size 5 and a half. Senior would happily be her protector, and more if he could swing it.
They presented the gifts; bonnets, dress fabrics, wall decorations and fragrances, when the butler, with a pronounced look of distaste, announced;
“Mistah Glassah is heah.”
Right behind him came a short, ugly, muscular man with extremely short hair, who was saying; “Don’t rise for me, Miz Wilkes! Just lookin over this soon to be mine property......Oh. Who are these gentlemen?”
Senior looked at Matty, who nodded for him to take the lead. Senior stood up. At 6 foot 1 inch, with his size 60 shoulders, deep chest, thick limbs, full head of hair, beard and moustache of mixed silver and deep chestnut brown, Matthew Gordon at age 57 was a sight to daunt much younger men. After glaring at Glasser for several smoldering seconds, he spoke; “We are the heirs of Mr. Arthur Wilkes and the new owners of Finiterre. We were charged, in his will, with caring for and protecting the widow of his brother, a task which I accept gladly! If you allege to have a debt instrument which gives you the right to claim Weathered Oaks, you will take up the matter with me, sir!”
“Allege? There is no alleging about it! Do you doubt my word?”
“ I find the fact that the debt instrument you claim to hold, supposedly signed by a man who died two years ago, has only now emerged, is very suspicious. It is very convenient that you try to enforce this so called instrument against the widow of the alleged signer, a woman known to be properly sheltered and unworldly, immediately after the death of her only protector. Had you known that a new protector had been appointed, I wonder if this ‘instrument’ would ever have surfaced! I go beyond merely doubting your word sirrah! I give you the lie direct! If you demand satisfaction, here I stand, ready to give it at any time!”
Glasser was taken aback. He stammered; “No need for that! Now that you’ve pointed that out, it sure does look suspicious. I take no offense.”
“Do you have the instrument with you?’
“I do sir.”
“I wish to examine it.”
“Surely. Here it is”
“Hmmmn. Where and when do you say Ashton signed this?”
“Three years ago, in the offices of my attorney in Mobile.”
“Interesting. Mr. Glasser, do you happen to know the very fastest time in which a round trip between Mobile Alabama and New York, New York can be accomplished?”
“Uh, about a week, I suppose. Why?”
“Because Ashton Wilkes spent the last eight years of his life resident in New York City’s Hotel Romney, where he signed the register every day without fail when he checked his mail. There was no period of even one day when he failed to sign the register. Therefore, he could not have been here at any time in the last eight years. He could not have signed this paper. This is a forgery, and you are a damned and damnable liar! Have you any more copies of this foul calumny?”
“Uh, no. That’s the only one.”
“Fine.” Matthew tore the paper in halves, quarters, eighths and sixteenths, placed it in a large glass ashtray, and pulled a box of Lucifer matches from his coat pocket. He struck one on the box and lit the fragments of the paper, watching it until it was gone. Turning to Glasser, he said; “Sirrah! If you are still here by the time I count to ten, I shall hammer you so badly, I vow you shall never again walk under your own power! If you ever dare to trouble this fine lady again, I shall have the life out of you, God as my witness!!”
Glasser fled. Melanie gazed up at Matthew with wonder and adoration in her eyes. They all returned to the interrupted conversation. Melanie invited them to lunch, but Matty pleaded a press of business at Finiterre and rode away. The six new York toughs mounted guard.
Matthew spent the afternoon skillfully charming Melanie. She invited him to dinner. After the meal, Matthew announced; “With your permission, I’ll sleep on your porch tonight, in case that base fellow is moved by the base emotion of revenge.”
Again, Melanie gazed up at him, speechless with gratitude. He was her hero.
Later, as Matthew relaxed on the porch with a glass of whiskey and a pipeful of good tobacco, Melanie crept out on the porch. Sitting beside him, she hesitantly suggested; “Dear Matthew, why not come inside? It gets chilly out here at night, even at this time of year, with the breeze off the gulf.”
“I can endure the discomfort for the sake of your reputation, my dear.”
“Bother my reputation. I am a 50 year old woman who has never known a man, because my husband was ever interested in boys. You are by far the manliest, most exciting man I have ever met. Would you think it entirely scandalous, would it repel you, to know that I desire you shamelessly? What would you say, if I asked you, right now, here in my home to take me to that bed which was always cold and lonely even when shared with a disinterested husband, and fill it and me with the warmth a marriage bed should be home to?”
“I say I would give thanks to God for his great generosity, first for creating you, and second for sending me here to protect you, and finally for bestowing your desire upon this undeserving old man.”
“I fear that I may disappoint you. I lack all experience, and fear I may freeze with fear when we touch.”
“Hmmm. Are ticklish, dear Melanie?”
Blushing, she answered; “Well, yes. I am. Extremely, in fact. I have been ever since I was a child. Why do you ask?”
“One more question first. Are your feet ticklish?”
“Yes! More than anyplace else! Now tell me why you ask!”
“For a woman, to be ticklish can be the greatest of blessings. It allows a man who knows what he’s doing to overcome both inexperience and fear on her part.”
Practically glowing, Melanie told him; “I know you are just such a man!”
They went inside and up the stairs to Melanie’s bedchamber. Melanie shyly and hesitantly began to undress, but Matthew stopped her. “No my dear. Let me disrobe you. Just close your lovely eyes and enjoy the sensations of being caressed.”
Now, it took a few layers of clothing removal to bare any skin, but once that stage was reached Matthew was as good as his word. He began gently, sensually caressing Melanie.
He began by caressing her now bare arms and shoulders. He turned her hands and kissed the center of each palm, fluttering his lips and tongue on the sensitive flesh. Melanie, now wearing only slippers, underbottoms, stockings and her innermost chemise, blushed as her nipples grew erect.
Placing her hands behind her back, Matthew kissed Melanie’s mouth. The kiss was slow and gentle, long and sensual. Melanie felt herself melting inside, then all at once became unsure and began to freeze up. Matthew detected her reaction, and interrupted her introspective reaction by tickling the sides of her neck with both hands. Melanie burst into sweet little giggles, and while she was giggling he kissed her again.
Matthew bent down to grasp the hem of Melanie’s chemise and lifted it over her head. He quickly slipped behind her, gently but firmly pinned her arms to her sides and began to softly tickle her belly and sides.
Melanie started to laugh uncontrollably, doubling over. Matthew gently straightened her back up and kissed her neck while tickling her ribs. Laughing harder, Melanie turned her head to look at Matthew while he tickled her. Matthew took the opportunity to kiss her mouth again while his hands began tickling and teasing her breasts. Her laughter grew wilder and wilder.
During the long lonely years, Melanie had fondly imagined that the touch of a lover would feel good. She had never imagined it would feel this good. This was wonderful! It would only get better, for the two Matthew Gordons, senior and junior, were both highly skilled at giving pleasure to women.
Matthew lifted the diminutive Melanie into the air and deposited her on the bed, deliberately making her shapely behind bounce upward slightly. He used that bounce to whip off her underbottoms, then sat on the bed and slowly peeled off her stockings. As each stocking crept down her leg, Melanie could feel Matthew teasing the newly bared flesh with his lips, tickling it with his tongue, gently grazing it with his teeth, maddeningly tickling it with his long, silky beard. Melanie felt that she was being slowly driven mad, but had never in her life felt so happy.
When the slow progress of the stocking fabric bared her heels, Melanie discovered that she was incredibly ticklish there. She laughed wildly, quite out of control. Somehow, the wide grin on Matthews face thrilled her to the core of her being! Then the center of her foot bottoms was revealed. The flats of her soles were at least twice as ticklish as her heels. It was exquisite, wonderful agony. Then she found out that the arches of her feet were twice as ticklish as the soles. Melanie laughed harder than ever, She knew she could absolutely not stand even one second more of the unbearable ticklish torment, and yet at the same time it thrilled and excited her so, it pleased her so intensely, that she wanted Matthew to keep on tickling her forever.
Melanie’s stockings came all the way off. Matthew was using his whole repertoire of tickling techniques on her toes and the balls of her feet. This actually tickled a little bit less. The sensitivity on the balls of Melanie’s feet was about halfway between those of her heels and those of the flats of her soles. Her toes were more sensitive than the flats of her soles, but less so than her delicate, high and deep arches. Even though it tickled less, Melanie enjoyed it just as much.
All the denied, suppressed passions of a lifetime were being released at the same time. Melanie was shamelessly reveling in the gentle, knowing caresses of the first lover she had ever known.
The headboard of her bed was ornately carved and had several large openings. Matthew slid her arms through two of those, and tied them in place with her own stockings, securing them just below the elbow. The tying left a long end of each stocking lying on the pillow next to Melanie’s head.
Matthew let the weight of his massive upper body pin Melanie’s luscious hips to the bed while he started to torment her helplessly displayed underarms. Melanie laughed, and writhed, and laughed, and squirmed, and laughed, and wriggled, and laughed, and wiggled. Most of all, she enjoyed! This was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her!
Matthew leaned forward to nibble and lick Melanie’s erect nipples, making them harder and harder until they were visibly throbbing with the force of her heartbeat. As he did this, his long silky whiskers tickled the undersides of Melanie’s full breasts in the most delightfully maddening manner. Melanie’s thoughts were chaotic. Had she died? Was this heaven? Was Matthew an angel? With last bit coherence left in the flood of joyful sensation, Melanie decided that yes, Matthew was an angel, her special guardian angel! She felt herself falling in love with him.
Matthew began to move his kisses down Melanie’s nude body. They fell on the undercurves of her breasts, on her ribs cage, on her belly. The tip of his tongue drilled wickedly into Melanie’s innie bellybutton, making her emit shrills of sheer delight while his hands shifted the ticklish caresses down to her sweetly curved sides.
After several minutes of this, Matthew left of the tickling. While Melanie gasped for breath, face lit up by a smile of pure happiness, Matthew gently spread her shapely legs, and planted a long, warm kiss in the hollow behind each knee. For the first time in what seemed like hours, these kisses provoked verbal expressions from Melanie other than laughter. What she actually said was; “Oh! Oooooh! Mmmmmm. Mmmhmm! Oh, yes! Yes! YES!”
Matthew paused to look up at her face from his unusual vantage point.
“Having fun, darling Melanie?” He asked.
With a positively beatific smile on her sweet face, Melanie dreamily murmured; “Yes Matthew. Dear Matthew. Oh, dear Lord yes. Mmmmm!”
That last was her response when Matthew planted a kiss a couple of inches up the inner side of her left thigh. Matthew slowly and quite lewdly kissed his way up the inner sides of Melanie’s beautiful, sensitive thighs. His lips, tongue, teeth and beard teased her and tickled her wonderfully, making her giggle in helpless delight while her raging arousal reached the level of sheer desperation as his kisses moved higher and higher. Melanie desperately needed to cum, but in her lack of experience the poor innocent didn’t even have the words to ask for what she wanted! Fortunately for Melanie, her wise and experienced lover knew without being told.
Melanie’s eyes shot wide open. She gasped in shock. Surely, he couldn’t be kissing her there! Not There! But he was. Matthew’s upper lip softly and ever so tenderly peeled back the little hood of skin that covered Melanie’s clitoris. Then, making sure that his lips and tongue were thoroughly wet first, he gently engulfed the throbbingly erect little nubbin of skin and began to deliberately stimulate all of it’s well over 4000 nerve endings.
Matthews lips glided tenderly up and down the little shaft, while his tongue gently swirled around and around the tiny tip. Meanwhile, his eyes were gazing up the length of Melanie’s body, carefully watching her face. When he saw that embarrassment was beginning to detract from her enjoyment, he reached out with both hands and started to tickle behind her knees.
Melanie, startled by the sudden tickle, burst into sweet giggles. Embarrassment driven right out of her mind by the delicious tickle, Melanie’s womanly hips began helplessly thrusting towards the mouth which was sending such pleasure along her every nerve.
Matthew rapidly slid his hands over Melanie’s sexily curvy calves and well turned ankles to wickedly tickle the soles of her feet. The weight of his huge shoulders, lying across her thighs, held her legs helplessly pinned in place. She exploded in peals of wild, raucous laughter. The tickling sensations were simply too much to endure. But she couldn’t escape, or fight back, or cover up, or do anything other than laugh and squirm.
The sheer intensity of the tickle drove every last inhibition out of Melanie’s head. Twelve seconds after exploding in laughter, she exploded in the very first orgasm she had ever known. It was incredible. It was amazing. It was like heaven on earth. It was just the beginning.
About thirty seconds after cumming for the first time in her life, the petite beauty felt her whole body become twice as sensitive. Her feet twice as ticklish, her clit twice as responsive. Five minutes later, laughing harder than ever, she came for the second time. Incredibly, it was even better than the first!
In the next fifteen minutes she came three more times. To Melanie’s growing wonder, each one continued to be better than the one before it. Her feet also seemed to keep getting more desperately, frantically ticklish! She couldn’t endure it, and yet she still loved to be tickled so much! It was very confusing, so Melanie simply enjoyed.
Just as she felt her sixth climax building, Melanie was surprised when Matthew removed his mouth from her person. He rose to his knees and took hold of her ankles. Matthew then carefully raised Melanie’s lovely legs upward until he was able to wrap the loose ends of the stockings securing her arms around her trim ankles.
Melanie was gazing in amazement at her own bare feet alongside her head to either side when she suddenly felt the most wonderful sensation. Matthew’s male member, which Melanie had no way to know was unusually thick, was slowly penetrating her sopping wet pussy. As thick as it was, it slid easily in because it was so well lubricated by then. Melanie’s hymen had been broken in a horseback riding mishap decades ago, so there was no pain to distract her from the luscious friction created as the thick cock moved her own surrounding flesh against her clit. Then an additional source of pleasure was added as the head of Matthew’s cock reached her G spot.
Matthew leaned forward, letting the backs of Melanie’s thighs and calves take parts of his weight. Every additional bit of sensation increased her pleasure, but she was just wondering how she could get him to move a bit more when she suddenly felt all ten of his fingertips gliding all over the bottoms of her helplessly bound bare feet!
Melanie’s lungs strained to laugh louder and louder and impossibly louder! Her hips and loins bucked, thrashed and twisted in ticklish desperation, each involuntary movement causing new waves of pleasure to emanate from her clit and her G spot! Her feet waved and twisted about, but she couldn’t break contact with Matthew’s roaming fingers for even the tiniest fragment of a second!
In the few seconds before her eyes filled up with tears of tickled agony, Melanie saw the grin of sadistic pleasure on Matthew’s handsome face, and it thrilled her beyond measure, adding to her joy. As hysterical tears streamed from her lovely eyes, Melanie’s body presented her with the best climax yet.
Melanie’s wild emotions were running away with her! Somehow, to be so completely defenseless in the powerful hands of her sweet angel Matthew just felt so impossibly right and good!
Paradoxically, while being tickle tortured unmercifully, never had Melanie felt so entirely safe and protected. Somehow she knew that her sweet Matthew, while taking an unholy glee in tickling and teasing her up to and over the brink of madness, would never allow any real harm to come to her. Also, on some deep down level of consciousness, Melanie knew that Matthew tortured her only to increase her pleasure.
Just at the moment after she had that thought, the mightiest orgasm yet erupted from the depths of Melanie’s womanhood to fill her entire being with an incandescent flood of sheer joy. Just a few seconds layer, while that vast orgasm while still roaring through her senses, Melanie felt Matthew release a great flood of cum deep inside her as he also climaxed.
Matthew unbound Melanie’s slender ankles and feminine, rounded arms from her now ruined stockings. He used the torn fabric to dry them both off as he slid out of her. Then Matthew gathered her tiny form up in his arms, holding her against his massive chest. He caressed, kissed and cuddled her until the exhausted beauty drifted off to a sleep filled with happy dreams.
As he lay there and watched Melanie sleep, Matthew vowed to himself that he really would become the protector he had promised to be. Melanie’s last thoughts before drifting off were of how happy she was to have managed to give her Matthew ( for so she now thought of him) at least one climax in return for the seven wonders he had bestowed upon her.
Then Melanie thought of how good, natural and right it felt to be helpless and defenseless in his hands. She thought of how it thrilled and excited her when he tickled her to madness. She thought of how sweet it was to be utterly out of control in the power of the one man she knew, just absolutely knew, would never hurt her or allow any harm to come to her. Then she slept.
Meanwhile, back at Finiterre, young Matty Junior was taking possession, in every sense of the word, of his early birthday present Lorna. Those events will soon be recounted in Down in Alabama, Circa 1836, Part 2.
As always, I solicit comments, critiques and illustrations.
Mastertank1
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