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The Late Night
Posted 10 years agoAnother late night last night.
The pup dragged her claws through the wet sand, tracing the lines and contours from her memory. A memory so fresh, so teasingly thrilling, a memory bourne not of fantasy but of a reality that felt like a dream, a very pleasant dream. The soft buzzing of the circuits in the armour of the subject of her pleasure, the raised weapon, the command that had, at first, terrified her. She had gazed up from the floor at her rescuer, in awe at her strengh, her poise, the armour black with metallic plates, circuits, buckles, such a strong bold look, yet beneath it something more. A figure of such beautifully sculpted shape, beneath the hard metallic angles lay curves and soft edges that tantalised her vision. Her heart raced, her paws aching to reach up and touch the combination of curves and armour, to claw at the buckles, to feel the warmth of the beauty beneath.
She looks down, the image in the sand has taken shape beneath her claws, it stirs her deep within, her pulse grows faster, her body tingles as if electrified. She feels a familiar warmth spreading below her waist, she smiles ........
The pup dragged her claws through the wet sand, tracing the lines and contours from her memory. A memory so fresh, so teasingly thrilling, a memory bourne not of fantasy but of a reality that felt like a dream, a very pleasant dream. The soft buzzing of the circuits in the armour of the subject of her pleasure, the raised weapon, the command that had, at first, terrified her. She had gazed up from the floor at her rescuer, in awe at her strengh, her poise, the armour black with metallic plates, circuits, buckles, such a strong bold look, yet beneath it something more. A figure of such beautifully sculpted shape, beneath the hard metallic angles lay curves and soft edges that tantalised her vision. Her heart raced, her paws aching to reach up and touch the combination of curves and armour, to claw at the buckles, to feel the warmth of the beauty beneath.
She looks down, the image in the sand has taken shape beneath her claws, it stirs her deep within, her pulse grows faster, her body tingles as if electrified. She feels a familiar warmth spreading below her waist, she smiles ........
The Night Owl Pup
Posted 10 years agoWell it seems I am awake in the early hours (again) unable to sleep.
The pup perked her ears up, what was that noise? The thing that sounded like the wind rattling a window but smelled like something else. The moment of silence, when her mind plays tricks, when silence itself is so quiet it arouses suspicion. A floorboard creaks somewhere in the other side of the house, the heat of the day cooling? settling boards? Yes that would be it, but for the scent, that deep fragrance that she knows but cannot place. An instinctive smell, something passed down in her genes, something she knows but has never come across. It grows stronger, the sounds of the night filter through the nearby window, wind, rain, the gate banging gently against its frame, but they do not distract her from the smell that fills her nose. That pervasive, intoxicating aroma, but wait .... the sound... no longer the creaking of boards but the padding of paws, closer, more clear. She stirs, rising slowly from her soft bed, she feels warm, not the warmth that comes from the comfort of her bed, but a heat radiating from inside her. Cautiously, hesitantly, she takes a step forward her paws pressing into the cold floor and the low growl stops her in her tracks. Though the tone is low, deep and ferral she does not fear it, she tilts her head, her soft green eyes straining into the inky darkness. Movement, slow at first but she detects it as she sees his form appear in the gloom, muscular, stocky, his shaggy coat does nothing to hide the powerful look of his haunches. She lowers her head to the ground, her body sloping upward to her short tail, raised up and still. She submits to him, her eyes gaze upward, willingly powerless she whines gently as he approaches.
The pup perked her ears up, what was that noise? The thing that sounded like the wind rattling a window but smelled like something else. The moment of silence, when her mind plays tricks, when silence itself is so quiet it arouses suspicion. A floorboard creaks somewhere in the other side of the house, the heat of the day cooling? settling boards? Yes that would be it, but for the scent, that deep fragrance that she knows but cannot place. An instinctive smell, something passed down in her genes, something she knows but has never come across. It grows stronger, the sounds of the night filter through the nearby window, wind, rain, the gate banging gently against its frame, but they do not distract her from the smell that fills her nose. That pervasive, intoxicating aroma, but wait .... the sound... no longer the creaking of boards but the padding of paws, closer, more clear. She stirs, rising slowly from her soft bed, she feels warm, not the warmth that comes from the comfort of her bed, but a heat radiating from inside her. Cautiously, hesitantly, she takes a step forward her paws pressing into the cold floor and the low growl stops her in her tracks. Though the tone is low, deep and ferral she does not fear it, she tilts her head, her soft green eyes straining into the inky darkness. Movement, slow at first but she detects it as she sees his form appear in the gloom, muscular, stocky, his shaggy coat does nothing to hide the powerful look of his haunches. She lowers her head to the ground, her body sloping upward to her short tail, raised up and still. She submits to him, her eyes gaze upward, willingly powerless she whines gently as he approaches.
