Fiona dropped the damp towel to the table and looked at the mountain of dishes that still needed her attention. Despite the disapproving look of Annette, the matronly cook and staff supervisor, Fiona began to sing as she dallied about her work. She was a dreamer and prone to flights of fancy. Having nearly completed the journey from child to adult, she had yet to live up to her responsibilities, incurring the anger of Lord William Waverly many times over. However, he had a fondness for the girl and had spared her any true punishment thus far, to the wonder of Annette and the other servants.
Today was a special occasion. Lord Waverly would be racing his finest hounds this evening in the competition held annually in his courtyard. He was a somewhat kindly Lord, looking after his staff with thoughtfulness, but everyone often remarked how ruthless he was when pressed.
Through the window, Fiona saw her Lord stroll across the grounds toward the kennels as she worked idly in the kitchen. Still daydreaming, she drew her fingers through the basin of soapy water over which she worked and traced patterns in the bubbles. She fancied a wealthy King from an exotic country would one day visit her Lord's manor and carry her away on horseback, or perhaps in a splendidly gilded carriage. She was imagining her wedding, one of her favorite ways to pass the time, when Lord Waverly's angry voice reached her ears.
"Annette! Where is that insufferable wench?" He called.
"She's at her work in the kitchen, Milord," Annette replied, her voice, a tad spirited. "Right where she belongs at this time of day if recollection serves."
"I will have her in my quarters at once! See to it."
"Aye, Milord. Right away."
Fiona was startled but not overly alarmed when Annette entered the kitchen. She toweled her hands dry and gestured towards the basin.
"All yours Ma'am," she said, smiling.
Annette laughed, not unkindly, and replied. "You've done it this time, girl. I'd rather have the dishes than what your master has in store for you."
Fiona swallowed, recognizing that although Annette smiled, she was serious and had been employed at the Waverly estate long enough to know a serious incident when she spotted one. Fiona checked her reflection in the hall mirror, admiring the shiny bounce of her black hair as it framed her sapphire eyes before continuing in soft waves down her back. She patted her maid's cap nervously and ascended the granite staircase.
...Lord's voice was unusually harsh when he told the old bat to summon me, but I can't think what I might have done to anger him so....
At last she reached the landing and veered to the right, starting down the wing that housed Lord's quarters. She had only been summoned for a private audience once before, when she was barely twelve years old. The memory of that evening brought a flush of cerise to color her cheeks, and her woolen gown grew warmer than usual.
Most of her previous encounters with Lord Waverly had been supervised by at least one of the older servants. It was the way of things in Lord's manor. She had the feeling that he wished to be the center of attention, staffing his household with many young and lovely girls, and even old Annette often affectionately remarked that Lord would never marry because he might then be forced to relinquish his harem.
Fiona paused outside the door to Lord Waverly's sleeping chamber, alarmed to discover that she was frightened. Summoning her courage, she rapped twice upon the heavy oak door and waited for her permission.
"Enter," came the sound of his voice, so strong and masculine that the door did little to muffle its quality.
Shyly, Fiona pushed aside the massive piece of wood and approached the center of the room, her head bowed politely.
"Master Waverly," she greeted, with an extra low curtsey.
"Disrobe." He commanded, wasting no time on greetings.
Fiona trembled a little, her fingers searching for the stays along the front of her bodice. Her cheeks warmed considerably as the gown dropped to her feet and she folded her arms across her chest, clad only in her cotton undergarments.
"Completely, and do not test me to determine how serious I am."
Blushing violently, Fiona hurried to comply, peeling the flimsy garment from her legs until she stood naked. Only then did she dare raise her face and look upon her Lord and Master. He sat facing her in a large chair the color of wheat wearing dark riding breeches and a white shirt open at the neck; across his lap rested a quirt that sent a surge of fear through her limbs. Fiona shuddered and seeking to look elsewhere, she moved her eyes about the room until Master's prize wolf dog lying quietly beside his seat caught her attention. The animal was huge.
Directly before her sat a hassock large enough to seat four. It was stark and white, a soft, luxurious addition to the darkened room. She did not understand its purpose and would not approach a thing so fine without permission.
"Do you know why you're here, girl?"
Fiona searched his face, sweat breaking on her lips and between her breasts. The dog whined slightly and sniffed the air; his black eyes riveted on her every movement.
"No Milord. How may I serve you?"
"I have been patient with you, girl." He said, uncrossing his right leg and reaching down to stroke the dog's neck. "Your father was my most loyal servant, as well as my friend, and I promised him as he lay upon his deathbed that I would care for you and guide you as if you sprang from my loins instead of his, but you have continued to test me from the moment you took to your feet at the age of one year. Can you deny that I have been lenient with you?"
Her shoulders shaking with worry, Fiona lifted her chin bravely and whispered to her Master. "No Milord. Your kindness cannot be exceeded. I'm grateful." And she bowed her head respectfully.
"My patience has reached its end and you have unusual ways of proving your gratitude." Lord Waverly said. "Sit down."
Confused, Fiona looked around. "Where, Milord?"
"Sit down at once!"
She saw no other place available to sit and after a frustrating second of indecision Fiona took a step forward and perched primly on the edge of the hassock eyeing the nearby canine carefully. In turn the animal, Rolf, lifted his head a fraction and sniffed once more, emitting a low growl. She flinched when he rose and approached her seat.
Master clicked once with his tongue and the massive animal bore down on her swiftly. Because she was seated, his head towered above her and she felt the heat of his breath on her neck as he circled and began to drag his cold nose across her skin.
"Silence! You will lie down and you will stay still until I tell you to move. This moment has been a long time coming and you will take your punishment without pleas. Do you understand?"
Unable to contain them any longer, Fiona burst into tears and then struggled to quiet her sobs for fear that her Lord would inflict a harsher punishment, if that were possible. It was painfully clear what he had in mind for her and she sought to accept her fate. She flinched away from Rolf once, then gathered strength into her trembling limbs and laid her body down.
Rolf grew agitated. He circled again and allowed his tongue to travel the entire length of her right thigh until his nose was drawn irresistibly to the patch of thin hair that covered her mound. Fiona gasped and moved to protect herself from the dog, forgetting Master's warning in her revulsion. Too late, she understood her mistake but could not avoid the sting as Master brought his quirt down upon her exposed thighs.
Rolf jerked back in surprise but soon returned to his place, his nose caressing between her clenched thighs and insistently nudging them apart.
"This is my final warning, Fiona. Stay still!"
A heavy sob tore from her throat as she looked at the thin welt that rose on her skin. Fiona bit hard into her lower lip and forced her legs to relax. Squeezing her eyes against a fresh wave of tears, she allowed the wolf dog to maneuver his head to a place no one but she had touched since she was a toddler.
"Your pussy, Fiona, your cunt. Let him at it or you'll feel my quirt once more and this time it will strike a much more sensitive area of your body."
Not looking up, the girl nodded and slid her legs open another inch. Rolf was impatient; he began to move his tongue against her, starting low at her anus and licking up through her tangle of black hair until it emerged just above that sweet spot she had discovered herself while bathing one night. Her face burning in shame, Fiona groaned at the pleasure racing through her from that single stroke of his tongue. She stifled the sound and continued to lie still, as her Lord had commanded.
"It is your clitoris he touches now. He will lick it until you have no choice but to disobey me. You will soon be unable to remain still. You'll be searching for that tongue; you'll be longing for it. You'll go against your Lord's wishes and fling your body upon it again and again." He paused and eyed her lewdly from head to toe. "You might even beg for it, and the shame of that moment, my dear girl, will be your punishment." Lord Waverly whispered, his voice barely concealing his delight in the scene unfolding before his eyes.
Rolf was truly digging. He pawed at her flesh, settling in close enough to rest his head upon her mound while his sharp nails held her open for the tongue lashing he was about to deliver. Without the tease of humanity, he plowed right in, flickering his tongue up between the folds of her labia, reaching deep to pull out the girl's essence and to imprint the taste and scent upon his memory. Daring to move, Fiona lifted her head and peered at him, fascinated at how strong his tongue was, fascinated at the way her loose folds of flesh were pulled along its length until the connection disintegrated and they snapped back into place, leaving her wishing for him to lick faster.
Soon, Rolf's teeth appeared and Fiona hissed her fear, but did not avert her gaze. She saw the huge, half-wolf, half-dog, peel back his lips and surround with his teeth, what looked like a small kernel of dark pink flesh. She saw him hold it delicately inside those teeth and use his tongue to stab it repeatedly. She could not hold in her pleasure and a long wail of delight rushed forth unedited.
"Milord, please?" She implored upon catching her breath, squirming slightly and realizing that Rolf had performed this particular act before. Perhaps many times.
"Silence!" Waverly responded, the quirt rushing past her head with a sibilant hiss.
Defeated, she sighed and slumped her body into the softness of the hassock, whispering only one more word, "why?"
Waverly sneered at her. "When you shirked your duties of caring for my hounds, you deprived Rolf of his bitch. She died this afternoon of sheer starvation, you impudent little wench. I decided that fair is fair and thus have provided my loyal dog with a new bitch. I suggest you serve him well."
Fiona did not fight the tears that spilled over her lower lids. She cried pitifully as Rolf continued to assault her pussy with stroke after stroke of his large tongue. Fiona fought hard to stay still, but her resolve fled when the animal abandoned himself, and hungry for the taste of her, bore down with his tongue, swiping her repeatedly from asshole to clitoris. He seemed to linger there on her pleasure pearl, sometimes only licking, other times nipping gently until she swelled to double her normal size. Rough growls rolled from the wolf dog's throat. He was enjoying the flavor of his human bitch.
Fiona desperately wished to maintain her strength, but the dog's licking felt too good. Even the perverted image of Lord Waverly watching the beast tongue his maiden's pussy did nothing to diminish her lust. With clenched muscles, she remained still for as long as possible, though she felt herself rush upward and spin dizzily through small, short waves of pleasure. Those waves seemed to signal the onset of a deeper, more intense feeling and subconsciously Fiona directed her body toward the animal, fulfilling Waverly's prophecy. She pushed down without realizing she did so, searching the air for more when he broke free and sighing in gratitude when his tongue reconnected. She was, in effect, flinging her body swiftly on and off of that magical appendage, fucking his tongue with abandon and nearly shrieking with joy.
Waverly gave a laugh of victory and urged the animal on. Fiona felt a rush of frustrated anger mix with her shameful desire and she finally gave in, reaching down to pull the dog's muzzle into her pussy as she humped onto his wonderfully long tongue.
"Ohhhhh," she moaned. "Oh yes! Lick me. Faster!"
Rolf moved down and inserted his tongue into her pussy while his slick upper lip rubbed against her clitoris. Once or twice he pulled his cum-filled tongue from the confines of her cunt and bit gently upon her labia, sucking the folds into his jaws only to release them and return to her clitoris with gusto. At last he latched on as if she were a nursing mother and sucked hard on her entire pussy, his tongue stabbing at her pleasure spot as she soared into the heavens. Fiona fell then; she tumbled eagerly into orgasm and quivering under the dog's attention, she cried out her pleasure in lust deepened moans.
"Oh God, Milord. Oh, Rolf, it-it-it...feels...so...good!"
Shrieking loudly, she writhed upon the hassock, rubbing her pussy onto Rolf's snout, seeking out that final wave, and succumbing completely to a convulsive climax.
Master just watched, boring his eyes into the girl until she felt compelled to look at him. Rolf slowed his movements but continued to lick until Fiona was clean and nearly dry.
Moving gingerly, she rose to a sitting position and tried to get up. Rolf pranced about her, whining and yelping. He moved behind her and pawed at her back. Fiona shivered and looked to Lord Waverly for assistance.
"Oh no, Fiona, it is not over yet. You must return what has been given. Lie down."
"Lord, please. I am as yet untouched."
"As you'd better be, my girl. Lie down!" And he flicked the quirt until the leather thong at its tip flew whizzing past her ear. Fiona immediately returned to her place upon the hassock.
Rolf circled once more, his voice as quiet as it was desperate, despite his whimpers. As he passed by her side, she noticed the animal's sheath give way and an amazingly long and red penis began to protrude, spraying juice upon her breasts in several long spurts.
Fiona panicked and tried to get up, but Rolf was not to be denied. Nearly pouncing, he gave a sharp growl and rushed to her side, biting gently into the flesh of her shoulder to show his intentions. When she was properly subdued, the dog moved over her mouth and began to nuzzle her head, his disgusting penis brushing her tight lips and leaving strings of clear liquid upon them.
“Fiona. Child. Open your mouth.” Lord Waverly whispered.
No longer concerned about Master’s quirt, Fiona shook her head.
“I had hoped that this would be easy, for your sake, but I must admit that your struggles are nearly as exciting as your acquiescence. I’m prepared to allow this to continue as long as necessary because your education is important to me, but do know that should you make me tardy for the races this evening, your punishment will be much harsher than anything you’re experiencing right now.”
Still, the girl shook her head in the negative, turning her face away from the animal’s penis. That the Lord had alluded to receiving pleasure from watching her with the dog sent a strange thrilling shiver down her spine, but she resisted nonetheless. Rolf grew strong, stabbing at her lips repeatedly and tilting his pelvis until he was perfectly aligned with her mouth.
“Take his cock into your mouth, girl!” Master bellowed at last, punctuating the command with three lashes from his quirt. Writhing in agony, Fiona glanced down in horror as three small rivers of blood spread across her belly. Without thinking, she cried out and Rolf reacted quickly, squatting above her head and ramming his length into her mouth.
“Yes, that’s better. Rolf is in great need. See how his cock throbs? Can you feel it push against your throat? And its heightened hue is indicative of his extreme level of arousal. He cannot be denied at this point, Fiona. It should not take him very long to empty into his bitch. Come on, now. Let’s be done with this business so that we can enjoy the festivities tonight. Annette has told me that you will be performing and we wouldn’t want to deprive the townsfolk of your lovely voice.”
Fiona was a smart girl and realized her predicament. She lay still and accepted Rolf’s member as it slithered inside her mouth. He began to batter her lips, his thrusting flanks increasing their speed and his cock growing stiffer.
Now it was begun, she tested its texture, curious despite her revulsion. Surreptitiously, lest Master should see and think the day a victory, Fiona relaxed her lips a fraction and let her tongue move upon the salty flesh encased in her mouth. Rolf whimpered and responded with an incredibly long shot of juice from his cock. Fiona winced at first and then was surprised by how mild its flavor was. It was nearly sweet and so thin that one could mistake it for the nectar that Annette sometimes made from wild berries.
“Don’t forget to swallow, or his cum will overflow. These randy beasts produce a high volume and I want to see you swallow every drop, girl. That’s pure champion seed, from a long line of prize animals. I don’t want his juice wasted upon the floor.” As he spoke, Lord Waverly reached down and squeezed his own cock, which Fiona saw pressed against his tight breeches. Her eyes widened as she realized its increased size and made the accurate connection to the position he'd placed her in. She felt power in the moment, although she did not understand it.
Testing her new theory, Fiona moaned and lifted her head to meet Rolf's next piercing lunge. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lord Waverly shift in his seat and clench his cock harder. She smiled to herself, filing the information away for later use; for now, she just had to get through the act of pleasuring Rolf, which was turning out to be not nearly as unpleasant as she had feared.
A few moments later, she began to doubt that thought. Rolf had grown almost violent in his fervor. He straddled her head and tucked his pelvis in tightly, moving his hips with such rapidity that Fiona couldn't hope to keep up. She gagged and coughed each time his cock left her mouth, yet with every reentry she found herself grasping his flanks and helping to pull him deeper.
Rolf's assault became brutal. Fiona struggled under his weight but was no match for his sheer size. The wolf dog sped his thrusts, his rapidly swelling cock causing her lips to scrape against her teeth, and she tasted blood. Large jets of thin, warm cum shot at intervals from the slit in his cock and Fiona was forced to swallow the surge. Over and over she clamped her lips tight and took huge gulps. Her movements only served to excite the animal further as he felt her throat open and close around his penis and soon a large knot formed at the base of his cock and battered her lips for entrance.
Fiona's pussy burned with hot lust. She tried to close her legs and press down with her muscles to achieve an elusive orgasm, but the dog was too inflamed to allow her much movement. He closed his front paws around her face, dug his hind legs into the hassock and proceeded to fuck her mouth brutally. Together they slithered to the cold floor and he took her all the way to the other side of the room, expressing his doggy lust in loud, angry barks as he ruthlessly drove his cock deep into her throat.
Gagging constantly and barely breathing, Fiona hung on. She wondered how much longer she could withstand the attack, yet at the same time, she was loathe for it to stop. Just as her head reached the farthest wall and stopped short, she felt the animal seat his cock as deep as her swallowing throat would allow and then Rolf stepped over her thigh with his right leg and pressed himself against her cunt.
Fiona's response was immediate. She screamed around his penis, clutched his flanks and sucked hard, and then moved her pussy swiftly up and down his leg. Rolf howled with her and pressed once more, long, creamy blasts of warm semen rushing from his cock slit and flowing in rivers down the girl's throat. Each time a new stream burst forth, Rolf jerked, driving his leg tight against her cunt and soon Fiona, too, was cumming in violent waves. She drifted near unconsciousness, his spewing cock cutting her flow of air off altogether, but Lord Waverly, who had followed their progress, reached down and nudged the animal until he retracted enough for her to breathe. Locked together in the most perverted of positions, the two of them climaxed, and Fiona downed every drop of cum that eventually drizzled from Rolf's spent cock.
After long minutes of stillness, the wolf dog disengaged himself from the girl and released a single stream of urine into her hair. He retired to his place beside his master's chair and licked his flaccid cock, his eyes locked onto the girl's face.
Lord Waverly assisted Fiona, who was trembling and covered in animal semen, to her feet. He thrust her gown into her shaking hands and lifted her face. For some moments he looked carefully into her eyes.
"I trust you will pay my animals the respect they deserve?" Waverly said, his voice now soft and tender.
"Oh yes, Lord Waverly. I swear it will be so." Fiona replied.
"I have no doubt, child. Now go, and have Annette help you clean yourself. She is wise and discreet."
Fiona wiped away the last of her tears and nodded, clutching her gown tightly as she moved toward the door.
"And Fiona?" He called.
"Yes, Lord Waverly."
"You will address me as Master hence forth. Do not forget."
She stared at him for a moment, wondering how eyes that had glittered so coldly before could now be so soft. She nodded once and exited the room.
The townsfolk remarked for many days after the races that young Fiona's voice had never sounded sweeter than it had that night.
Copyright 2003 Julie Hypnotic