Archive | June 23, 2017

Beauty-Beast 20: Good Kitten

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This chapter features a lot of description that wanders around the edges of sex without describing penetration or intercourse..


“Mm, Come on, lovely, you did wonderfully.” Their guests had been seen to the door, and now Timaios’ arm was around Ctirad’s shoulders. “You were a very good kitten for me. Thank you.”

Ctirad’s head was swimming. He normally had a head for alcohol, but there had been several bottles of wine, he hadn’t had anything of the sort in years, and now he was getting praised. “Thank you, sir. Thank you. I tried..”

“You did beautifully. Can you handle the stairs?”

“Of course. Could handle stairs dead-drunk and carrying three people.”

Oh, he probably shouldn’t have said that. He ducked his head and looked at his feet.

Timaios was laughing. Of course he was. This man laughed at everything.

“Good. Good boy. Come on, up with you. I’m going to pour you into bed and then we can think about more interesting things in the morning.”

Ctirad stumbled as a surge of guilt hit him. “m’ still awake, sir, can be interesting if you want to.” First he’d been too hungry and then he’d been too full and now he was too sleepy. He was seriously lousy at this.

“No, my kitten. I got you drunk, and I got you overfull, and I am not going to take advantage of you in this state.”

He must be drunker than he thought he was. “Sir? Timaios? You own me.”

“I do. And I am not going to have my first time with you be when you are too drunk to properly appreciate it.” Timaios patted Ctirad’s ass gently. “Here, up, there we go. Clothes off and into bed – that bed, there, the big one. I hope you don’t snore.”

“Nobody’s ever complained of that, sir.” He stripped off his pants, folded them and put them on a nearby bench before sliding into bed.

Much to his surprise, Timaios – similarly clad in nothing – slipped into bed next to him. “Good night, kitten.”

“Good night, sir.” If this place got any stranger, Ctirad was going to have to relearn everything he knew.


His bladder woke him, and the strange warm feeling of being pressed against his Owner, and the safe feeling of his Owner’s arm over him.

He could go a long time without moving to use the bathroom. But on the other hand, Timaios seemed to like a small amount of the pretense of making his own decisions.

On the other, other hand, Timaios had said if I haven’t told you to stay somewhere, and he had told Ctirad to go to bed.

In the end, the growing pressure of his bladder without the firmness of a solid stay there order to lean back against made Ctirad slip carefully out from under Timaios’ arm and very, very carefully make his way to the bathroom.

When he returned, his breath caught as he noticed Timaios was awake.

“Why don’t you turn back around-” his master began, and Ctirad tensed, even as he obeyed – “and wash yourself off all nice and good for me.” There was nothing but pleased warmth in his voice, but Ctirad had already turned around and couldn’t watch Timaios’ face. “I think you’re sober now, no?”

“Yes, sir.” He walked into the bathroom – didn’t close the door this time; he wanted Timaios to see he was doing exactly what he’d been told. “And I’m not too hungry or too full, either,” he offered, a little uncertainly.

Timaios chuckled. “Good. Good, and I am also neither too full nor too hungry nor drunk. Mmmmm,” he added, a deep rumble of appreciation, as Ctirad bent over, ass towards the bed, to let his master view him cleaning himself very thoroughly. “Mmm.. yes. That’s good. I don’t want you to chafe yourself raw, my dear kitten. That’s my job. Now come here.”

Ctirad dropped to all fours, feeling at the moment very feline – and very pet-like – and slunk across the floor as if he had his tail in the air. He felt very exposed, and very raw indeed, and his heart was pounding in his chest the way it never did when he was in a fight.

“Good. Gods, you’re gorgeous. Up here on the bed, that’s a good kitten, let me look you over.”

Timaios’ hands ran all over Ctirad, stroking, pinching, squeezing, commenting. “You’ve got some scars. And I still haven’t dealt with this awful collar.” He put his hand in the back of the collar and gave it a little tug.

Ctirad closed his eyes and let the collar press against his throat. “Hawthorn and rowan. Most were from fights.”

“Mm. Now isn’t the time to ask about the others. Let’s see.” He began murmuring, Old Tongue and Greek. It took Ctirad a moment to realize he was reshaping the collar, reforming it. “I could,” he said, as he tested the way the lighter, thinner-feeling collar pressed against Ctirad’s throat, “make you a new one. But we’re reshaping your Keeping. We’ll reshape your collar to match. Now.” He released the collar. “Onto your back, my pretty kitten, hands behind your head, and close your eyes. Knees up and spread, good boy. Tell me if I do anything you find unpleasant. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”

Ctirad rolled and positioned himself, closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head – and whined. “I – sir?”

Anything you don’t like, Ctirad.”

“I don’t like having my eyes closed sir.” He spat it out as fast as he could. He couldn’t kneel or bow his head or really anything, so he held very still.

Timaios considered. “Can you leave them closed for a little while for me? Does it make you feel bad?”

“Just – just helpless, sir.”

That was the problem. Helpless wasn’t always bad.

Helpless might even be okay, with the right handler. Owner.

“All right. Keep your eyes shut for now. If it moves to actually bad, tell me. Immediately. All right?”

“Yes – yes sir.” He put his head back against the pillow and wiggled till he felt like he was in position. He was completely exposed, his spread legs showing everything off.

Hopefully Timaios liked what he’d bought.

“Hold as still as you can for me. Good kitten. Good.” Timaios’s hand settled on Ctirad’s ankle and slowly moved upwards. Ctirad could feel the bed shift as Timaios moved, coming up closer to Ctirad’s hip, as his hand brushed over Ctirad’s knee and down the slope Ctirad’s raised legs made, towards his hip. He could feel Timaios’ breath on his knee. He could feel his fingers just under his hip bone. “You’ve got a lovely body. Will you show me it as it really is?”

“…Drop my Mask, sir?” No, please no.

“Just as you did last night. I wish to know what I’m really touching.”

“In bed, sir? I mean… yes, sir.” He shifted his Mask to show his body as it truly was. “As you wish, sir.”

“Timaios,” he corrected gently. “Please.”

“…Yes, Timaios.”

“Thank you.” His hand slid back up Citrad’s leg while his other hand started downward from Ctirad’s collarbone, tracing a line down the center of Ctirad’s body to his navel. Up and down, back and forth, his hands brushing all over Ctirad’s body, but avoiding his nipples, his balls, his penis, his throat. “You’re delicious. I could eat you up.”

Ctirad swallowed and dared to speak. “I could – I could enjoy that, sir, Timaios, from you.”

There was a silence that went on long enough that he wanted to open his eyes, even though Timaios’ hands kept moving up and down, round and round. And then a soft chuckle. “That was brave of you, wasn’t it?”

“…” He didn’t want to say anything at all. But the hands had stilled now, and he wanted them to touch him more. “Yes?” he tried. “It was, uh. It was nerve-wracking?”

“And you did it anyway.” The hands started moving again. “I’m pleased. Is this too hard for you? I want you to be able to enjoy yourself.”
Ctirad swallowed a keening noise so that it almost didn’t make it out of his mouth. That wasn’t an order, that wasn’t an order, there were enough buffer words in there that – the hands had stopped. “Don’t stop, please? Please, I like it. I just…”

“Okay.” The hands began moving again. “You just…?”

“It’s hard to know what’s okay, when I can’t watch your face.”

“Then we’ll assume everything’s okay, how’s that?”

“No? No, I mean,” he swallowed down on panic. “What if I say something wrong?”

A hand pinched very lightly at the tender part of his inner thigh. “While we’re in bed, here, today, there is no ‘wrong,’ all right? I will not take offense and I will neither punish you for nor hold against you anything you say here in bed today. All right?”


“Because I want you to be able to relax and just react. I want to see what you look like when you’re doing that.”

Ctirad considered that, turned it over, and then nods. “Yes, sir. I… I can do that.”

Timaios chuckled a little. “Good. Now…” He wasn’t talking anymore, but his mouth remained busy, exploring all the places that his hands hands.

React. Relax.. Ctirad convinced his mind they were orders, forced his body to relax, and let go, enjoying what Timaios was doing, feeling it, writhing under him. He lifted his hips up as high as they would go and whined when Timaios pulled away, bit his lip and, eventually, begged for more. His voice cracked and squeaked and he swore in pleasure.

When Timaios rolled him onto his stomach, the cool pillow was a relief against his face. He was relaxed, he was reacting, and he had so much room to move like this. He teased Timaios in turn, shifting and wriggling and changing the pace of his hip-rolls, until Timaios grabbed his hips with a pleased-sounding growl and put a stop to that.

When they were done, Timaios rolled Ctirad back onto his back. “You can move your hands now, kitten. And you can open your eyes. You were lovely, you know. Absolutely lovely. Did you enjoy it? Honestly?”

Honestly. Ctirad opened his eyes and looked at his Owner. Yeah, that expression looked sincere. “I did,” he answered. “I really did.”

“Good. Good kitten. I’m quite glad.” Timaios stroked Ctirad’s stomach and chest. “You’re a lot of fun, you know. And you’re beautiful, writhing beneath me. Sadly…” he sighed. “I have to do something to earn my name and my money. Let’s shower and have breakfast, and then I’ll hand you over to my staff while I handle all the boring meetings.”

“Yes, sir.” The praise was making him dizzy. Ctirad thought, as much as he didn’t want Timaios to go away, maybe a little time apart might be a good thing. He was falling fast and hard, and he didn’t really want to know what happened when he hit the bottom.


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An Adventure, Chapter 2

Chapter One:

The darkness inside was disorienting. She looked in, and could see nothing; it was as if no light at all passed through the doorway, not even the creepy red illumination.

She couldn’t turn back now; her fingerprints were on the doorknob. Oxana stepped through, feeling carefully with one foot on the floor and holding her hands in front of her.

The floor felt rough under her feet but level, and nothing met her hands. She took careful step after careful step, reaching out to either side, feeling in front of her, wondering once again was this a good idea?

The answer appeared to be no, but here she was anyway. Her head hurt, probably from the pressure changes down here, and the air tasted damp and stale, like the door hadn’t been open in a long time. Since 1920? she wondered. Or just a few years ago? Was it safe to breathe? There were all sorts of stories about why the dorm had been closed off, after all. She couldn’t remember if one of them had been about gas, or bad air, or carbon monoxide, or anything.

Her hand hit a wall on her left, and then one on her right; as she stepped forward, she could feel the walls on either side of her at once. So the hallway was getting narrower. That seemed like a strange design for a school building, but maybe she’d missed a turn-off in the dark. Turning one wide hallway into two smaller ones – she could see some use for that, although admittedly not a lot.

There were rumors about Edowanda’s builders. Maybe they’d stuck some bodies down here in the concrete. Everyone knew that sort of thing happened a lot here,

The hallway narrowed again, until Oxana had to lower her arms to her sides. She should really turn around, before things got too tight to turn around.

Her foot hit a doorway and she stopped. She felt cautiously forward until she could feel something like a doorknob – it was oblong and knobbly, but it was where a doorknob ought to go, more or less, and it turned under her hand.

She moved the door slowly, glad it opened away from her and not towards her. A crack of light showed between the door and the wall. She squinted her eyes as tightly as she could while still having some vision, and slowly nudged the door open.

The light was nearly blinding, even with her eyes squinted nearly-shut. Slowly, she stepped into the doorway, letting her vision settle. There was a very bright rectangle of light directly in front of her, and dark sections to either side. There was a shadow in the brightness ahead of her. She couldn’t make out more than that. She stepped forward again and, feeling foolish, called out “Hello?”

Her voice sounded weird, hoarse, as if she’d been screaming. She hoped she hadn’t actually been screaming. What a mortifying way to be found by Campus Police, trapped in a basement, hallucinating and screaming her fool head off.

“Hello.” The voice that answered sounded high-pitched, sweet, and not at all like she imagined a Campus Police officer tracking down a ridiculous student in the basement of a forbidden dorm ought to sound like. “I see you have made your way here. And I see you are have made it through the first challenge.”

“…What?” She took a step backwards. “Challenge? What? Is this some sort of secret society?”

“No. No, and yet yes. You found the passage and you made it through the darkness. Not everyone is that brave. So welcome, traveler, to the Unders.”

Oxana blinked again, finally managing to make out the person-like shape in the light. “The… Unders? Under the dorm?”

“Under the dorm, under the school, under the everything. We are Under the world, and you are here with us now. Tell me, would you like to earn a little currency?”

That was a strange way to refer to – well, it was a strange way to refer to everything. Oxana peered, but her eyes were still not making too much sense of the shadowed form. It seemed to have either too many arms or not enough, depending on the moment.

“I’m a college kid,” she joked. “I can always use money.”
“Good, good. We will give you currency, but for that you must come here.”

Well, she’d come this far. Oxana stepped towards the voice. It seemed like the initial impression was far too correct. The woman in front of her looked somewhere between thirty and a hundred, her face still in shadows, her hair long and golden. But she definitely had four arms, and all four were reaching out to Oxana.

It was rude to stare. Oxana swallowed and walked towards the woman. “Where – what is this place?”

“As I said-” The woman sounded patient, for all that she was repeating herself – “this is the Unders.”

“Yes, but. All right. What do you want me to do?”

“For your first task, the task I can give you, take water from this fountain here, and move it into this basin here. The dipper that can be used is this one.”

As the woman gestured, Oxana could see more and more. There was a fountain to the right of the woman that burbled water upwards, and on the left there was a basin of stone with a hole – no, a drain – in the bottom.

“Where does the water go?”

“Down to the next level, where those who need it will drink it. Drink none,” the woman warned her, “or you will not receive any currency.” She held out, with her lower right arm, a dipper that looked brass or maybe gold-plated. It could hold maybe a half-cup of water.

“How much should I move?”

“Until this task is over. I will tell you when the task is over.”

“All right.” She’d sat through studies that were more boring than this, for $5 and a lunch sub platter or something similar. Oxana took the dipper and dipped it into the fountain.

There is an Underschool Pinterest board! Here –

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