House of Feathers Ch. 26: A Butterfly, Pinned

Doggy Style

A short follow-on story from the series, but intended as a stand-alone tale.

Nothing fancy here, but I hope you enjoy it.


“But I want to,” I said again.

“Um, Katri,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “It’s a big step and you are a little…”

“Call me a ‘little girl’ and I swear I’ll kill you!”

It wasn’t that much of a threat. I was, yes, too small to be scary and my voice was too high-pitched to be properly menacing.

Still, he grinned and raised both hands, as if in surrender. “No, hardly a girl anymore. That’s true.”

“Then, what?” I demanded. “I thought guys liked it?”

Aunty Kaarin smirked from across the table. “I think he’s worried that he’s created a monster, sweet girl.”

“I’m not a monster! And I’m not a girl!”

“No, indeed,” he said gently. “But you are small and it can hurt.”

I turned to the fourth figure at the table. “What do you think?”

She smiled, too. “Definitely not a monster, Katri, but you have certainly become, um, ‘adventurous’ since you came here. Are you not enjoying yourself enough?”

I blushed, looked down at the plate in front of me. From outside, the sound of the surf on the estate’s beach seemed to speed up to match my pulse.

“It’s not that,” I said softly. “Being here is fun. You’ve all been warm and welcoming and patient – I’m really grateful. And the sex has been far better that I could have ever imagined. The thing is that I have enjoyed everything so far and this is one more door I want to open.”

The two older women looked at each other for a brief second, then turned in unison to look at him, their approval clear.

He gave a small shrug, knowing that he was outnumbered and that, more importantly, his vote really didn’t count anyway. The Sisterhood was in session and, as befitting his gender, he was entitled to graciously bow to the inevitable once his betters had reached the proper decision.

“OK,” he conceded. He left the table and returned a few minutes later. In his hands were a tube of lubricant (did they buy the stuff by the case?) and something else I couldn’t quite see.

He held out his hand to reveal a one-piece plastic item, pale green and T-shaped. I knew what it was — or at least thought I did. The main part was as long as a finger and thick as a small banana; it was tapered at both front and rear in a streamlined shape. The rear had a thin crosspiece, presumably to keep it from getting slipping inside and getting lost inside.

Inside me, I realized.

“No,” I said. “I want you in me, not a toy.”

He gently patted my arm. “This is something to help you prepare,” he reassured me.

I looked at the other two and saw them both trying hard not to smirk.

“What?” I demanded of them. This was not going as planned.

Kaarin smiled. “I think he’s trying to get you ready for real thing,” she said. “And this one is fun by itself, trust me.”

I looked back and forth between them. “So instead of sex, you want me to wear a butt plug?”

His hand tightened on my forearm. “Not just a butt plug, Katri,” he said.

He paused, thought for a moment and took another tack. Grey eyes bored into mine. “Who am I?”

I started to reply, then the implications of his question hit home.

He was a rock-solid genius. His inventions were sold in every country of the world; his creations were significant enough that he’d had to retreat to this private estate on an isolated tropical island to escape the political and commercial pressure.

He was also, from my personal experience, a remarkably gifted lover. He’d been my first man (OK, my only one to date) and had given me bliss I’d never imagined.

In other words, if he was suggesting this, it was for a reason. That both his wives approved and were encouraging me to play along was the icing on the cake.

I looked down. “OK,” I said softly. “But when? And do you put it in before or…”

“No,” he said. “You do. Now.”


“Now,” he affirmed. “Toilet’s over there. Git.”

I felt three pairs of eyes staring at me across the dinner table. Loving eyes, to be sure, friendly, sympathetic eyes – but the operative word was clearly ‘staring’. OK, maybe ‘challenging’. It was crystal clear to me that this was a put-up-or-shut-up moment. I surrendered, nodded silently, picked up both items and went into the adjacent room.

I suppose every girl has investigated her ladybits with a finger. It’s normal, right? I had, on the other hand, never explored my rosebud with anything more than tissue. I sat on the toilet seat and stared at the plug and the lubricant. What now?

I was pretty sure that if I emerged without it in place, none of them would laugh at me, nor ever mention it again. But I was certain that that would torpedo my request.

OK, Katariina, I thought to myself, you can do this!

Not sure how to proceed, I put a dab of lube on a forefinger and rubbed it with my thumb, sniffed it. It was extremely slippery, with no smell. Shrugging, I almanbahis şikayet reached around and touched my pucker. The goo made my finger slide easily over it. On impulse, I gingerly pushed my fingertip inside. As it entered, I was surprised as the depth of the elastic ring. I was also surprised at the lack of discomfort. When I pulled it out, I expected to see it flecked with… OK, covered in shit, I thought to myself. But it wasn’t — it just glistened with clear lubricant.

Encouraged, I put on another dab and slid it back inside myself, concentrating this time on how it felt. I felt a surprising tingle in my clit, a gentle tightening of my nipples in obvious arousal.

This was weird.

Or, maybe, this was… good?

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I spread lube on the butt plug and brought the point behind me. It was surprisingly cool as the tip first felt its way to my ring and then entered a short way.

This didn’t hurt. What was all the fuss about?

I began to push it in further, with twists and gentle but firm shoves. Its tapered length was forced a little bit deeper with each try. At one point, I felt a twinge of pain and pulled it out slightly but the discomfort soon passed and I resumed my push inwards. Even though larger things had passed through there, it was different; I was being stretched in a way I never had been before. Suddenly, the widest part was through and the plug almost popped in the rest of the way on its own. My muscular ring clamped down on the slender part of the shaft. I felt the crossbar lodge snugly between my cheeks.

I felt strangely full. I was surprised to find it a comforting sensation.

I wiped the excess lube off, flushed the toilet and stood up carefully. Despite the odd sensation of the shaft pressing against the inside of my anus, I found that there was no pain, even when I took an exploratory step.

When I emerged with nothing in my hands, all three broke into broad smiles. Returning to my place at the table, I found I could sit without discomfort.

“Good for you, dear!” he said, with a warm smile. “How does it feel?”

“Weird. But in an OK sort of way.”

“It was a brave woman who first ate a lobster,” he smiled gently.

He was about to say something else, but paused.

“When?” I demanded. I figured this was only for a short time, a test of my will, perhaps.

“In a while,” he said.

“In a while?” I almost shouted.

“You’ll get used to it,” came a soft voice from my other side. “We did.”

Kaarin snickered. “Eventually.”

I looked back and forth, uncertain. Were they laughing at me or with me?

“Eventually?” I asked, timidly. I knew I could pull it out at any time, but here was the old demon, peer pressure.

“Eventually,” he said.

When I looked at him, he was twirling a small, pale green fob around his index finger. He put it on the tabletop and gave it a shove. As it glided past me to Kaarin’s hand, I could see that it had perhaps half a dozen small buttons on it.

“Eventually,” she giggled. She pushed a button and I jerked in surprise at a low vibration in my butt.

Kaarin passed the fob to her co-wife, who pushed another button, grinning at me. The speed of the vibration increased, then shifted into a periodic pulse.

I could feel its quivers radiating out from my bum, from my head to my toes. It wasn’t uncomfortable or unbearable, but I wondered what it would be like in a few hours.

“This,” he said, resting his chin on his hands, “is a warm-up for you, hon. He gestured at the two beautiful, impish faces further down the table. “And they get to control it. If you feel hard-done-by, you can discuss it with them.”

He leaned over, gave me a sweet kiss.

He smiled, then, it being his turn, he started clearing the dishes. Half-way out of the room, he stopped and turned to face me. “And they’ll be able to tell if you take it out without consulting them.” He left the room, leaving me with the other two, almost splitting themselves in amusement.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded.

“We know it’s funny, dear.”

“It’s frustrating now, but it will be much more fun later on.”

“We know.”

“And don’t argue or…” Almost together they started pushing buttons and the plug went wild. I almost squealed, but managed to keep it to myself. I will confess to wriggling frantically on the chair. Then another slim finger turned it off, all the way.

“Enjoy, dear!” they said in unison.

And that was that. The damned thing tormented me throughout the following days. Usually just a lurking, heavy-ish presence, it would go off without warning, whether or not one of them was with me. Once we were actually swimming in the lagoon when it started going and I damned near drowned before I got control of myself. The second night, I swear, it went off every hour on the hour.

I was hornier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time in weeks, none of the other three would touch me. OK, not beyond almanbahis canlı casino fondling my boobs or ass. They did a lot of that, which only made me hornier.

When I attempted on night to… take matters in hand, so to speak, Kaarin appeared out of nowhere. She just stood there, shaking her finger at me. Somehow, she’d known.

There was no coercion, certainly nothing so crass as a chastity belt. I was just given to understand — quite clearly — that, amusing as it might be for the other three, this was ultimately for my benefit, intended to ensure I enjoyed myself when the time came.

And when would that be? Apparently, not telling me was part of the game. It might be next morning, it might be next week. In the meantime, barring brief potty breaks, the damned thing was to be there to work its black magic on me.

And the three of them played their parts to the full — brushing their fingers over my skin whenever we passed, making love in front of me.

It was maddening.

He in particular made a point of caressing me a lot. One time he came up behind me in the lab. I was sitting on my chair, trying to concentrate on the equations in front of me and not the low buzzing in my bum.

“Come with me,” he said, politely. “There’s something you should see.”

I rose and went with him. Hand-in-hand, he led me out of the lab and up the stairs into their bedroom. One wall was, unsurprisingly, composed of mirrored doors to their closets. (Not that there was much in the closets. This place had an almost-perfect temperature year-round-day-round and clothes were as unusual as they were unnecessary. We got dressed only when a local couple came by to help with the gardens.)

In front of the middle closet door, there was a small stool, maybe a foot tall. It didn’t look as if it belonged there and I didn’t recall ever seeing it before. I realized that this might not be entirely a spur-of-the-moment thing on his part.

Holding my hand, he helped me up onto the stool. Grasping my hips, he turned me just slightly to face the mirror an arm’s length away. Then, stepping around me, he opened first the door on my left and then the one of the right, swinging them inward to face me. A moment later, he shifted a free-standing floor mirror to behind me. In as much time as it takes me to tell, I could see every part of myself, like in one of those 360-degree funhouse mirrors.

I stood there, unsure what he wanted.

“Put your hands on your head,” he said.

I did and watched four images do the same.

He moved closer. I watched multiple hands come up and gently stroke my waist on the right side. I started to drop my hands, turn towards him.

“Keep them there,” he said. For all that his words were still polite and his voice gentle, I knew this for the command that it was.

There was enough space for him to walk around, between me and the mirrors.

As he did, his fingertips trailed leisurely over my waist. My heart jumped at his touch.

He stopped in front of me, leaned down and kissed first one breast, then the other. I watched, entranced, as his multiple reflections took one stiff nipple between his lips, sucking lightly, then the other. I took a deep, deep breath, tried to keep my balance.

He pulled back. My nipples felt cool with the moisture of his kisses. He stroked my chin fondly with one hand before stepping behind me again. I am short enough that, even standing on the stool, his chin could still rest lightly on my shoulder. He looked my in the eyes and smiled.

“How is Katri?”

“Um, OK. But this is all driving me crazy. I want you.”

“I know,” he said softly.

From out of nowhere, he produced the twin of the fob the other girls had been using. Holding it up so that I could see it, he thumbed one of the buttons and the humming inside me instantly stopped.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Wordlessly, he hung it by its chain over the floor mirror behind me. “You’re welcome,” he said.

He stepped up behind me again. Both hands clasped me by the waist.

His lips came down on my neck for a gentle, lingering kiss.

“You have such a delightful body, Katri,” he whispered. I shivered in spite of myself. One of my hands came down to pat his head; he immediately seized my wrist and moved it back to my head.

“Leave them there,” he repeated, his eyes in the mirrors still on mine. “Don’t move them.”

I nodded.

With that, his hands again began to move slowly over my body.

I’d heard that the skin is the largest sex organ for any person. Under his touch, I began to understand that.

His gentle hands glided over my bum, up to my neck, trailed down along my spine.

As aroused as I already had been, this was like tossing kerosene on a fire. My nipples, already hard, snapped to adamantine attention. I found myself wondering if he knew how good his touches felt, how much they turned me on.

I could see his eyes in the mirrors in front of me. I could see love almanbahis casino there — and amusement. I had seen, if not experienced, the way the three of them played with each other, arousing, stoking the fires of each other’s yearning, building to unbearable desire — and then leaving the ‘victim’ hanging there, shuddering with unfulfilled lust.

Until they started again.

And again.

The orgasms, when they came, seemed to be pretty incredible.

So I understood his intent, but that didn’t mean my frustration was any easier to bear.

His palms came to rest on my breasts. I could tell by his expression that he was enjoying himself, pleased by his freedom over my body and by my clear excitement at his touch. One hand slid down over the tingling skin of my abdomen and came to rest over my mound. Without going any further down, he gently grasped it, rolled it, shifted it under his hand.

As it moved, it pulled the lips below it and my clit with them. I gasped, gave a low moan, closed my eyes.

“Open!” he commanded softly. “I want you to watch!”

Opening my eyes, I watched my body being manipulated, teased and pleased by his expert hands – for his enjoyment and mine both. I could see his clear pleasure, too.

I knew I was not the only one being spun up by this, for I could feel his hardness pressing against my backside. I leaned back into it, wiggled my bum against it. His eyes beamed in pleasure.

I couldn’t help moaning as his loving hands drove me higher, closer to the edge. I gave a different moan as I saw him pick up the fob again.

“No,” I whispered.

“Yes,” he replied in a low voice, thumbing the fob as he spoke.

I moaned again as the anal torment restarted, then gasped loudly as a long forefinger slid between my lips, traced the length of my pussy, easing through my wetness. My cleft felt hollow, empty. I ached in my need.

I stared in the mirrors at his hand tenderly working my sex, shuddered at the very brink of orgasm.

And with that, he stopped. He clicked the fob, turning off the vibrator. He tossed it casually back onto the bed nearby before turning me around on the stool to face him.

“You may lower your hands now,” he smiled. He pulled me into a deep hug, clasped my body to his. His organ pushed hard against my stomach.

I ran my hand along it between our bellies.

“Be patient, Katri,” he said, stepping back. “You’ll see — worth it for both of us.”

I took a deep, deep breath, nodded, then left by myself and tried to get back to work.

Asides from this sort of delightful torment, life went on as normal — or as normal as this place could be ever called. I was expected to do my work time in his lab, exercise, do my share of the cooking and such. Through it all, the mad science project buried in my butt kept my sanity teetering on the edge.

All I could think of was my tormented libido. I would go to sleep and dream of being penetrated, taken out of my misery, only to wake up and find the butt plug humming its mad tune.


We’d finished lunch and gone down to the lagoon for our afternoon swim. Even as horny as I was, it was about as idyllic and relaxing a way to spend an afternoon as I could imagine. We strolled back and headed up to the shower to rinse off the salt water.

Maybe the Roman or Chinese empresses were used to being bathed by somebody else. If so, it’s a regal custom deserving rediscovery. Many couples share showers on occasion, of course, but this is different. Having three or four people involved changes the dynamics entirely.

Looking back, I can see it had already been agreed between the three of them. From my point of view at the time, it just happened, evolved. The three of them wound up concentrating entirely on me. Six affectionate hands were running over my body under the stream of warm water – yes, rinsing away soap and salt, but also stroking, caressing and brushing love into my body with each touch. It was a dreamy experience, one calculated to create the utmost contentment and inner peace.

Not fully understanding; I just accepted it. It seemed no less natural, when we finally left the shower, that the three of them gently toweled me off and dried my hair. It left me in a state of the utmost tranquility. One hopes that nirvana is as pleasant.

I was surprised however when the three of them led me back inside and down the hall to their bedroom.

It wasn’t until the two women bent down and gave me gentle kisses before leaving that I caught on.

“Is it…?” I asked, looking at him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, a loving smile on his face. “Only if you want.”

“I want,” I said, and stepped forward to stand between his legs. Looking down, I could see that he was half-hard.

I laughed as his hands caught me around my waist and lifted me up, lowering me to sit on his lap.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to reach up and bring his face down to mine for a kiss. It seemed the most natural thing possible for his lips to meet mine, the tip of his tongue sliding across my teeth and probing gently inside, playing with my own.

I felt his hand run down my back, and again. The thing in my behind began vibrating again, very low, but I knew I didn’t need it anymore.

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