Title: Oh Mistress Mine
Author: Sergeeva
Rating: NC-17
Category: SR, Skinner/other (female), brief implied slash in the 
past.
Spoilers: none
Summary: Walter's life takes a new direction.
Disclaimer: I wish he was mine, but he's not. She is. Due honour 
given to CC, 1013 and Fox. No infringement intended.
Author's Note: Written for the birthday of a wonderful writer and 
friend - Xanthe.
Feedback: I'm dipping my toe in the tempting water of het Skinner. 
I'd love to know how I did. Feedback gratefully welcomed, and 
replied to, at sergeeva@walteris.vbeautiful.co.uk 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Skinner checked his watch as he climbed out of his car. Damn. 
7.26 and he still had to make it up to the penthouse apartment that 
was his destination. 

He looked at the plain heavy cream envelope in his hand and tried 
to subdue his apprehension. At the Bureau he supervised over two 
hundred agents, handled a budget of several million dollars and 
made decisions on matters of national security with assurance and 
sang froid, yet here he was, reduced to a dry-mouthed nervousness 
such as he hadn't felt since he'd dared to ask Laura Blumenthal to 
the Prom... 

The fact that he was here tonight was the result of a chance 
meeting eight months previously. He'd run into an old 
acquaintance at a DOJ seminar and over coffee they'd started 
talking about the problems of meeting anyone new or congenial in 
DC and the bleakness of going home to an empty apartment night 
after night... Carl Hogan had been divorced from his wife for 
several months and Skinner was a widower of nearly three years 
now. Skinner had assumed Carl was feeling as gloomy as he was, 
but it turned out he was wondering whether Skinner might be 
interested in a "dining club" he attended. Skinner thought he might 
be. 

The Charteris Club was not at all what Walter Skinner had 
expected, and he'd almost walked out in blushing confusion that 
first night, when several ladies and more than a few men had 
invited him to "dine" in their private rooms at the Charteris 
mansion. "Dining", Walter discovered, could mean anything from 
a civilised four-course cordon bleu meal, to an orgy of bondage, S 
& M, group sex, same sex, whatever sort of sex the parties 
involved could think up... His initial shock had been more at the 
realisation that something about the idea intrigued him, rather than 
a prudish reaction to something unconventional. He'd been 
persuaded to stay, spent a delightful evening with a lady librarian 
called Roberta and left feeling in a better mood than he had for a 
long time. 

Since that evening, he'd been a regular visitor to the club, enjoying 
the mix of people he encountered there, and the first-rate cuisine, 
making use of the excellent gym, and learning more about his own 
sexuality and needs than he ever had in seventeen years of 
marriage. He'd been taken under the wing of a 50-something 
accounts clerk called Peter Genetti, who had become his mentor, 
teacher, and eventually lover. There was no snobbery at the club, 
and its members came from all walks of life. Election to its roll 
was by nomination, and no-one thought twice about rubbing 
shoulders, or other parts, with a CEO or an electrician, a sales-girl 
or an heiress. Peter was witty, well-read, generous and patient and 
Walter had lost his heart to the older man. Peter was also one of 
the most intimidating tops on the DC scene and under his tutelage 
Walter had discovered in himself a longing to become the perfect 
devoted sub. 

They'd been meeting for nearly three months when Peter was 
killed in a traffic accident. Walter was bereft. He stayed away from 
the club for weeks, unable to face the people and places associated 
with his Master. He retreated into work and duty, trying to forget 
his life as a "sub-in-training". He mourned Peter for three more 
months and then one September afternoon he'd come home from a 
five-mile run, not relaxed, as he'd hoped, but restless and full of a 
hunger for something he thought he could never have again. 
Almost as if hoping to lay the ghost of his longings, he'd gone to 
the club and been welcomed as a long-lost family member. 

Old friends urged him to return to the scene and find a new Master, 
new members speculatively eyed the tall, gravely handsome man 
they'd heard mentioned. Walter felt more than a little 
overwhelmed. One person had made a lasting impact on him that 
day. A woman had been dining alone in the salon, elegantly 
dressed in midnight blue velvet, her rich blonde hair casually 
pinned up with a sapphire and diamond pin that could have paid 
for Walter's condo, car and most of the pension he would get and 
still leave change for an average man to live comfortably on. 
Walter had noted all this with awe but no self-interest, until she 
had reached for his hand as he passed her table, and fixed him with 
a pair of disconcertingly direct green-gold eyes. Her voice was soft 
and cultured: 

"I knew Peter for a very long time. I know how much he thought of 
you and how you must miss him. If there's ever anything I can do 
for you, please contact me. I'm Zerlina Gray." 

She handed Walter a business card with her name and telephone 
number, continuing to hold him in her neutral gaze until he 
pocketed the card and found himself giving her an almost-bow of 
acknowledgement before he stepped away. He'd never encountered 
such a powerful personality before. In just those few moments he 
felt as if Ms. Zerlina Gray had learned all there was to know about 
him, to the depths of his soul, and he didn't have a clue about who 
or what she was. He dreamt about her that night, leaning down to 
him from a balcony while he strove to reach her white hand. The 
next day he gathered his courage and called her. They talked for an 
hour. A proposal was made, and Walter was astonished to find 
himself accepting it. Which was how he came to be here tonight, in 
an Art Deco elevator ascending to meet his new Mistress, nervous 
as hell. 

He tore open the envelope in his hand and extracted a small key. 
Remembering his instructions, he inserted the key into the 
unmarked lock on the control panel in the elevator, squared his 
shoulders and turned it. He had only as much time as it took the 
elegant old elevator to creak its way up to the top floor in which to 
shed his commanding AD persona and become the perfect sub. 

The ornate wrought iron doors slid open and he had run out of 
time. Facing him was a massive oak door and a gold knocker in the 
shape of a pouncing lion. I wonder if that's an omen, thought 
Skinner, trying to relax as best he could and giving his appearance 
a hasty once-over. Straightening his tie a minuscule fraction and 
taking a deep breath, he wrapped his big hand around the lion's 
polished head and knocked once, firmly. Then, bowing his head 
respectfully, he awaited his fate. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Zerlina set down her glass of wine and went to open the door, 
smiling in anticipation. Walter was a little reassured by the smile, 
but not by her greeting. 

"Walter, only a little late. Come in then, and let me look at you." 

Oh lord, he thought, stepping forward, I've annoyed her already. 
I'm not sure I can do this. But she was standing calmly, expecting 
him to enter, so he stepped in, filling the doorway for a moment 
with his wide shoulders and bringing the scent of the November 
evening into the warm, lamp-lit apartment. 

"Thank you Ma'am," he managed to murmur, standing quietly as 
Zerlina closed the door and led him into the main room. 

"You have nice manners, Walter. 'Ma'am' will be fine for now. We 
will see if you earn the right to call me 'Mistress' as we get to know 
each other better. Now, take off that coat so I can see you 
properly." 

She held out her hand and Walter shrugged out of the heavy wool 
coat and laid it over her outstretched arm. He added his scarf and 
black leather gloves and Zerlina put them in a closet and came 
back to where he waited, head bowed, hands clasped before him. 

"Excellent, Walter. I see you have learned well. You can keep your 
hands at your sides. That's it, now let me look at you... Yes, you 
stand very well: back straight, weight balanced, no twitching or 
fidgeting. So many people think that submission is conveyed by 
cowering or hunching meekly. I don't find such servile postures 
attractive. You have an impressive physique, Walter, and more 
importantly, you have the art of bearing yourself most gracefully 
for such a big man..." 

She was slowly circling him as she spoke, considering every angle 
of his elegantly-suited body in an unhurried but serious fashion. 
She ran a hand down his arm, flexing her fingers lightly around his 
biceps. She noted the perfect fall of charcoal grey pants over long 
legs, and the fit of the jacket across unusually broad shoulders. 
While she made her leisurely inspection, he stood like a schooled 
stallion, powerful but obedient, strength reined in, waiting to serve. 
Finally, she stood facing him again: 

"I like what I see. I was correct in my observations when we first 
met. You are a very handsome boy, Walter. Now, as this is our 
first time, I will take things slowly tonight. I'm sure you have both 
your strengths (she ran a finger down his chest) and your 
weaknesses (she slid the hand around to skim over a high tight 
buttock), and we will begin to explore your limits in time. I won't 
push you tonight. We should get to know each other and see how 
well we play together before we venture into unknown territory. I 
wonder what you have heard about me?" 

Walter was still blushing from being called 'boy' by this woman 
who was almost certainly younger than he was, but he gathered his 
composure and managed to reply. 

"With your permission, Ma'am?..." 

"You may speak freely, Walter." 

"Well, Ma'am, they say that you can be very... strict..." 

"I can be, Walter, I certainly can be, If there is any discipline 
called for, it will be instantly and comprehensively forthcoming. 
Have no doubts about that. However, I hope I am fair too." 

"They say that too, Ma'am. I hope I can please you." 

"Oh, I have the feeling that you will, my dear. And I am going to 
make you feel the most exquisite pleasure too..." Zerlina leaned 
close to him and whispered "I see the passion in you, boy. You 
control it well, but I intend to melt some of that control in the next 
few hours." She felt a shiver run through the powerful body, and 
her eyes gleamed. "Now, I want to see much more." 

Her long nails danced up Walter's shirt-front until they reached the 
knot of his tie, which she tapped thoughtfully. 

"Loosen that. Take off your shoes, socks and jacket. The rest is 
mine." 

As Walter began to slide the silk through the knot, she moved to 
recline on a huge sofa: soft gold velvet, draped with Persian 
shawls. Her silk robe pooled around her bare feet as she tucked 
them up on the cushions and lay back to watch him carry out her 
instructions. 

His big hands deftly slackened the tie until the knot lay against his 
breastbone, then he slid off the beautifully-tailored jacket and 
folded it neatly on the floor beside him. He bent to unlace shiny 
black dress shoes and tucked his dark socks inside them. Every 
movement was spare and graceful. His eyes remained cast down 
respectfully. 

Zerlina uncoiled herself from where she'd been watching 
appreciatively, and stepped close to him. Her soft fingers began to 
unbutton his shirt. Walter could smell her subtle perfume and feel 
her body heat. Her deep purple silk robe brushed the floor in 
shimmering folds. It was gathered at her throat and waist into 
smooth, close fitting bands, but unfastened from neck to waist and 
from waist to feet, so that as she moved the open edges parted to 
reveal a glimpse of creamy breasts and bare legs. It was seductive 
in a very understated way, and Walter felt his senses respond. 

This curvaceous woman with her curling honey-blonde hair and 
expressive eyebrows was unquestionably as intimidating as her 
reputation described, but she also had a sensual, almost feline 
quality about her, like a lazily predatory cat, and the combination 
was doing seriously powerful things to Walter's composure and 
anatomy. Watch your step, Walter, he lectured himself silently. 

Suddenly, without warning, her fingers moved and Zerlina pulled 
one half of his shirt free of tie and belt and bared his right shoulder 
and breast. Walter barely managed not to flinch as she raked her 
nails over his collarbone, down the vein on his upper arm, and 
across the smooth slab of his pectoral. She wasn't deliberately 
cruel, but she wasn't gentle either, pressing her fingers into his 
flesh, letting the ends of her nails scratch at his skin. Watching his 
down-turned face intently, she pinched his nipple sharply between 
thumb and forefinger, tugging at the tender brown bud and slowly 
pulling away her two fingers so that the nails nipped together at the 
tip. She didn't miss the flicker of a muscle along Walter's tight jaw, 
and her tongue slipped between her lips and licked once in 
appreciation of his self-control and of his beautiful suppressed 
arousal. 

"You like that, do you, Walter?" She held onto his smarting nipple 
and twisted it lightly. Then, just as unexpectedly as she had 
pounced before, she let him go, barely giving him a chance to 
register the painful rush of blood to his abused nipple before she 
dipped her head and sucked it into the heat of her mouth. Her 
tongue teased at the puckered flesh, her cheek was soft against his 
bare skin, her heavy hair brushed against his arm. A groan escaped 
his lips. 

"Forgive me, Ma'am," he whispered. She lifted her head for a 
second: 

"No - that's good, Walter. I want you to express your feelings." She 
nipped at him again with her teeth and soothed the bite with her 
tongue. Taking her time, she pulled away from him, straightening 
up to look him over admiringly. 

"Don't expect such attentions all the time. I indulged myself 
because you look so very edible, and I was feeling hungry" She 
grinned at him like a lioness spying dinner, then tugged his tie 
completely off and swept the shirt off his other shoulder, leaving it 
hanging from his wrists by the still-buttoned cuffs. "Well, I can 
certainly see why everyone at the club has been talking about 
you..." her eyes devouring his exposed chest. "They are saying that 
a sub of such promise hasn't come along in years... I will have to 
take very good care of you." 

Her hand went to his chin. "You may look at me, Walter." He 
lifted his eyes, and heard Zerlina's audible intake of breath. "Oh. 
My. I think we'll dispense with these from now on," she said, 
carefully removing his glasses and setting them aside. "You have... 
remarkable eyes, Walter, and unless you are helpless without 
those", she gestured to the folded glasses, he shook his head 
mutely. "Then I think I want to be able to see every nuance of 
expression as I have my wicked way with you..." Walter caught the 
dazzle of her speculative grin as he blushed and dipped his head 
again. 

"I didn't give you permission to look away, boy, but that is such a 
fetching blush that I'll let that go this time. Now - strip, take a 
shower and I will give you a proper inspection, then you may wait 
on me for my pleasure." 

Wondering if he had just passed the first hurdle, Walter hastened to 
comply. He had showered before coming here, of course, but he 
wasn't about to correct her over that. Zerlina clapped her hands in 
command and stepped back to allow him space to strip off the shirt 
and his pants and briefs. She observed the whole process with her 
unnerving tawny gaze and Walter did his best not to feel as if he 
was an interesting specimen at the zoo, as he peeled off his clothes. 
When he was naked, she took his hand and led him to a luxurious 
bathroom with a huge antique claw-foot bath and an elaborate 
brass shower arching over one end of the tub. There was no shower 
curtain and Walter hesitated as to what to do next. 

"Climb in then," Zerlina ordered and having turned on the hot 
spray, she settled herself on a chaise lounge to watch the show. 
"Be very thorough now, Walter, and remember that I'll be checking 
all those delicious parts soon." 

He was a little disconcerted by the lack of privacy, but managed 
not to show it. He focussed his mind on that place within himself 
where he gave up his will to this cause, to becoming the perfect, 
obedient, adoring plaything. Where his own needs were subsumed 
in the need to serve and to submit. Concentrating on lathering and 
rinsing himself efficiently, with unconscious suppleness, he 
twisted and bent to reach every part of his body with the soapy 
sponge. 

Zerlina felt her own temperature rise as she watched the big hands 
slide over every perfectly defined muscle. Her lips parted as she 
followed the glide of a palm along a hard thigh or across a rippled 
abdomen. Her eyes widened as Walter turned under the stream of 
water and the foam slid down a sculpted back and into the crevice 
between taut bronzed buttocks. An all-over tan, she observed. 
Nothing to mar the golden skin and the perfect amount of dark 
curling body-hair. He wasn't even trying to be seductive, just 
soaping and rinsing scrupulously, but when Walter ran long broad 
fingers down to lift his scrotum and carefully wash his penis and 
balls, Zerlina felt a flush of arousal sweep through her so fiercely 
she almost cried out. Her head fell back against the padded arm of 
the chaise and her fingers slid between the silken edges of her robe 
to cup her own aching sex. In a little while, she consoled herself. 

When Walter was finished, she called him over to her, saying 
nothing, but merely clicking her fingers and pointing down at the 
floor. Silently, Walter sank to his knees, his wet body glistening as 
the candlelight shone on the powerful torso. 

"Very good, Walter." Her hand trailed through the damp dark curls 
on his chest. "Put your hands on your head." 

She watched him move - the raising of his powerful arms lifting 
his ribcage to accentuate the narrowness of his waist, the hollows 
of his armpits sweeping enticingly into the defined planes of his 
pectorals. Trickles of water ran down his honeyed skin. Zerlina 
caught her breath again at the strong masculine beauty of this man. 
Reaching forward, she brushed a gentle finger over the sweep of 
his wet eyelashes, her face softening into a deep tenderness for a 
moment. Another click of her fingers and he rose obediently, hard 
thighs powering him upright in one smooth movement. 

The shower had slicked the dark hairs on his legs and forearms 
close against his skin. Droplets winked in the wiry curls at his 
groin. Zerlina flicked a negligent nail at his nipple again, watching 
for the quickly-controlled twitch of his pectoral muscle. 

"Bend over for me." 

Walter hesitated for a second, not understanding. She merely 
cocked a questioning eyebrow at him, until he registered that he 
was keeping her waiting. He reminded himself that it didn't matter 
if he didn't understand what her intention was, he was hers to 
command. It was that simple. Contracted, agreed, desired. Blissful 
submission was precisely what he sought. He spread his feet a little 
and grabbed his ankles. He felt more than a little ridiculous like 
that, his bare ass up in the air, but he was aware of a thrill of 
helplessness too. 

He stretched his spine, letting his weight settle, slowing his 
breathing. He felt nothing for several seconds and then the slight 
weight of her warm hand alighted on the small of his back and 
began to stroke, slowly. Walter focussed his senses on that tiny 
movement, on the heat that seemed to spread from her touch. He 
felt heavy, dreamy, euphoric. The caress lasted for a timeless 
moment, then unexpectedly, Zerlina's other hand slid firmly down 
the back of his thigh, stretched taut in this position. Again he felt 
soothing heat. Water still dripped down his shower-damp body. He 
felt the trickles run down his sides, into the hollow of his armpits, 
along the inside of his elbows... 

Lost in sensation, conscious only of her slim fingers sliding over 
his naked skin, he felt no shock when she gently parted his cheeks 
and drew one of those slim fingers down the crack of his ass. He 
felt the glide of silk against his hip as she moved close up against 
him, continuing the hypnotic circling over the base of his spine 
with one hand, while the other slid softly between his legs to graze 
his perineum and tickle the back of his scrotum. His testicles were 
gently cupped and rolled with a practised hand. He gulped air, as 
best he could while bent double, the sensory torment bringing him 
lurching out of that dream-state in which he had been floating. 
Hurling him into tingling arousal. Zerlina felt his reaction and 
laughed softly. Unfolded the warmth of her curling fingers from 
his flesh and drew her hand back between his butt cheeks. Her 
thumb pressed briefly against his anus, barely pushing at the tight 
sphincter, then he felt warm breath and a deliberate kiss, right there 
on that ultra-sensitive rim. He almost came on the spot, the 
sensation was so melting and erotic. She slapped his buttock 
lightly and commanded him to straighten up. 

"Good boy, Walter. Did you forget what I said about making a 
thorough inspection? You needn't have worried, my sweetheart - 
you are wholesome enough to eat." 

He closed his eyes against sudden dizziness as the blood rushed 
away from his brain. His face felt hot, beads of moisture drying on 
the heat of his blushing cheeks. Both sets of cheeks. 

Zerlina patted his shoulder. "You're doing fine, your restraint is 
admirable. Do you have such good control of this impressive 
beast?" she purred sibilantly, palming his heavy balls again and 
circling his cock with her finger and thumb. Echoing its owner's 
eager compliance, Walter's penis blushed rose-gold at this 
attention, and began to harden. "How lovely!" Zerlina exclaimed, 
"what a charmingly eager boy you are! You must earn your 
rewards, however. Get dried now, and follow me back to the main 
room. I have duties for you." Beneath the seductive softness of her 
voice there was steel, and Skinner felt a rush of adrenaline at being 
subject to her will. He wanted only to please her, but the glint in 
her eye told him that disobedience was not an option in any case. 

When he had towelled himself off and made his way back to the 
luxurious living room, he found Zerlina reclining on the velvet 
sofa again, setting out an array of bottles and jars on a delicate 
pedestal table beside her. She beckoned him over and gestured to a 
spot near her feet. He knelt tall, keeping his back straight and 
lowering his head. A hand lifted his chin. He gazed up into 
Zerlina's green-gold eyes, seeing her in soft focus without his 
glasses. 

"Oh Walter... you could be my undoing with those eyes," she 
whispered wryly, petting his flushed face. "We're going to have to 
remember just who is in charge here, aren't we?" Her sweet smile 
mellowed the teasing menace in her words. Walter dropped his 
gaze. 

"No, no - I didn't say I wasn't enjoying the show." She raised his 
face to hers again. "You're a shy one. Either that or you're *too* 
well trained. I don't expect you to hide your light under a bushel, 
you know. I was just allowing myself a moment of human 
weakness - not something many people have seen from me, I can 
tell you. Somehow I have the feeling I may have a lot more 
moments like that when you're around." 

Walter didn't know if she was criticising him or not. He hadn't 
been trying to be winsome or coy, he was genuinely nervous in her 
presence, and eager to please. It was a tricky business walking the 
line between absolute obedience and lack of initiative, between 
active adoration and presumption. He didn't have long to ponder 
this, however, as Zerlina soon had him scurrying back and forth 
fetching bowl and water, scented lotions, fluffy lilac towels and a 
box of cotton wool balls. 

"I want to see how attentive you can be to your Mistress' needs. I 
want you to bathe and dry my feet - carefully now - and then 
varnish my nails. Use the 'Purple Rain' polish." 

She stretched out her bare feet to him and lay back, closing her 
eyes and apparently trusting him to just get on with it. Walter 
hadn't failed to notice her use of the title 'Mistress'. The fact that 
she was ready to cast herself in that role to him made his heart 
leap. He didn't allow himself to think about being loved, but oh, 
how he longed for someone to give his love to. Pleasurably, he 
squeezed the sponge in the bowl of fragrant water, took her pretty, 
pale foot in his hand and began to bathe it. Both feet were lovingly 
washed and dried and as he quietly followed his orders, Walter 
became aware he was being watched. He didn't break submission 
to look up at Zerlina, but he knew she had opened her eyes and 
was studying him again. He was sure his ears were glowing red, 
and his fingers moved with extra care as he dried between each 
little toe. 

When this was done, he made a pile of cushions to support her feet 
and took up the little conical bottle of nail polish to begin his 
second task. The small brush felt as delicate as a flower in his big 
hand and he was so nervous making the first sweep over her tiny 
nail. Iridescent violet gleamed against her milky skin and made her 
toes appear jewelled. One by one each nail was painstakingly 
adorned and buffered with a tuft of cotton wool between it and its 
neighbour, until ten pearly toes glinted in the soft candlelight. 
Walter remembered Sharon doing this occasionally, her cheek 
against her own bent knee, the tip of her tongue sticking out as she 
concentrated. He was stiff now himself, from sitting tensed while 
he carried out the delicate work. He flexed his shoulders a little as 
he carefully put the cap on the varnish bottle. 

"Mmm, do that again." Self-consciously, he shrugged a bit. "Silly 
boy - I meant that pantherish shoulder-roll you probably don't even 
know that you do... You really are the most innocently erotic man I 
have ever seen, Walter Skinner!" 

He covered his shy pleasure at her comment by tidying way the 
bowl and towels. Zerlina just laughed at him, wiggling her purple 
toes and turning them to catch the light. They matched her silken 
robe exactly. 

"Some lemon balm lotion for my legs now, I think. It's the tall 
bottle." 

He panicked a little as he looked at the skirt of her long robe, 
swathing her ankles. Was he supposed to...? 

"You may uncover me, Walter." 

Tentatively, he pushed back the silk and exposed her bare legs. 
Taking first one and then the other in his hands, he stroked the 
smooth lotion into her equally smooth skin - his tanned hands 
dramatically dark against her flesh. Zerlina made tiny sounds of 
what he hoped was pleasure as he worked: up fine-boned calves, 
massaging firmly into the long muscles, working a bit extra into 
knees and the soles of her feet, down over satiny shins, around 
slender ankles... Over and over his hands swept in measured 
rhythm, until Zerlina's legs gleamed with a pampered sheen. 

She opened sleepy eyes when he finally stilled his hands. A 
languorous smile curved her lips: 

"Wonderful hands too - is there no end to your delights, my 
adorable boy? I think you deserve a reward now. Give me your 
foot." 

Uncertain, Walter lifted one long leg and couldn't believe she 
really wanted to take his foot into her lap. She stroked the strong 
bones and pulled him nearer her stomach, settling his heel between 
her warm bare thighs. He slid back onto his elbows and lay at her 
feet, naked and wide-eyed as she kneaded and massaged his foot in 
her surprisingly powerful grip. When she reached for a bottle of 
nail polish his eyes nearly popped out of his head. 

" 'Stormcloud' " She announced, grinning widely. "Very butch and 
very sexy - just like you, Walter." 

"Stormcloud" proved to be a dark hematite grey, like liquid steel. 
Walter watched incredulously as Zerlina painted the toenails on his 
left foot, holding each of his long toes in turn and running 
unbearably ticklish fingers up and down the arch. He couldn't hold 
an eyes-down position, lying as he was, so he tried to keep a 
dutiful expression on his face as he watched the procedure. It 
became harder and harder to maintain his calm, though, as he saw 
Zerlina's own increasing arousal. Her hands snaked down over the 
long planes of his foot and up the inside of his leg. She leant 
farther and farther forward, to reach the crook of his knee, and then 
his inner thigh. Her eyes burned into him and her lips were parted 
as she touched him, sliding over the hard muscles, twisting where 
she sat, so that he had to twist too - his legs spread for balance, his 
groin open to her devouring gaze. 

He couldn't look away from her face, her sparkling eyes, her soft 
mouth. So rapt was he, he didn't notice Zerlina's foot creeping up 
his other thigh, not until her dainty toes were nudging at his balls. 
She was playing him now, like the diva that she was, Sprawled on 
the low couch, her legs twined with his, curling her amethyst toes 
against his hardening cock, hissing her own mounting pleasure 
with every push. 

Walter gave up all pretence of composure. What had she said about 
melting his control? He had no control left. He was spread like a 
fawning dog while she tickled his balls and rubbed her foot against 
the tight skin of his swollen cock. Grabbing handfuls of the pillows 
around him, he writhed on a sea of sensation, rolling his head, 
gasping deep breaths as he tried to force oxygen to his stupefied 
brain. 

"Beautiful, Walter! That's my gorgeous boy... let it out now, let me 
hear those moans and sighs, oh sweetheart, you are so good - god, 
your cock is perfect, I want you to scream for me, Walter." 
Zerlina's voice was raw with sexual power, stroking him as 
roughly as her toes tantalised his erection. He knew he couldn't 
hold back much longer... She was getting all the moans and sighs 
she asked for, and he thought he might very well scream too if he 
didn't get release soon... 

As if she knew, Zerlina suddenly pounced - curling up off the 
couch and over onto him in one sinuous movement. Straddling his 
hips, she tore at the fastenings of her robe as she swivelled her 
bottom against his groin. The silk fell away from her torso, and she 
fell forward: creamy ample breasts against his chest, soft belly 
against his teak-hard abdomen, silken thighs against his slim waist. 
Her mouth was everywhere her hands couldn't reach, roaming over 
his shoulders, and jaw, licking at his ears, a million impassioned 
kisses falling on his brow, his eyelids, his throat, his parted lips... 

All the while her hips gyrated, hot moisture slicking across his 
skin, her bare buttocks stroking against his rigid cock, nestling him 
closer, closer, closer... She was the lioness again, pinning him 
down with the force of her desire, with the sheer arrogance of her 
assault. He knew he could have toppled her off him in an instant, 
reversed their positions, subdued her, but he wanted to be hers, 
totally hers. He wanted to submit, to be taken and consumed as she 
had promised. He grasped her waist in his broad hands and stilled 
her frantic undulations long enough to align her glistening sex with 
his. In that second of stillness, their eyes locked and she smiled an 
awesome smile as she sank down onto him, sheathing herself over 
his silk and heat. Her eyes rolled back as he rocked up into her, 
flexing his hips to reach her deepest core. For a minute he was in 
command, lifting her, cradling her, giving everything of himself to 
her. Then she came back to herself and it was suddenly her 
muscles working him, her thrusts driving him deeper... She held 
his arms down, outstretched to either side, bending to kiss the 
hollow of his throat, his armpits. 

"Now, Walter, come for me. Look into my eyes and come for me!" 

He saw a bead of sweat slide down her arched throat, he saw her 
nipples harden as he watched: pink berries standing proud on her 
glistening breasts... He saw the flush of orgasm rouge her pale skin 
and then his own blood was roaring in his ears, his throat was raw 
with the scream he gladly gave her, and he came at her command. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The candles had burned low and the Persian shawls had been 
pulled from the sofa to do duty as sheets and blankets. There were 
pillows everywhere, and the room was redolent with the scent of 
sex and the rose-petal pot-pourri they had tumbled off the table and 
rolled on. A tousled blonde head was just visible under the silken 
fringe of one of the shawls. Walter stood by the tall window, 
looking out on the quiet pre-dawn street below. Moonlight, 
stronger than the guttering candles, washed over his nakedness. 
One hand rubbed idly at the bruise-marks of slim fingers around 
his biceps. He smiled to himself and looked down at his left foot. 
His silver toenails looked bizarrely beautiful in the cool light. He 
was deeply happy. Claimed, possessed, enchanted, but happy. 
Zerlina wanted all the love he could give her, amazingly she 
wanted him as much as he wanted her. Things would never be 
predictable, mundane or routine ever again. He fingered a bite 
mark on his shoulder and felt the contented ache of well-exercised 
muscles. 

Glancing over at the makeshift bed, at his lover lying where they 
had fallen after her third assault on him that evening, he was taken 
aback to see the glint of her feline eyes watching him possessively. 

"Get back here, boy... " purred low and dangerously. 

"Yes, Mistress." 

THE END