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Slowly I caught my breath and gathered my thoughts. This strong bird woman had been both gentle and fierce. She had clearly enjoyed the gentler time of my tongue in her ass as she had softened and relaxed against me, skin soft and warm. But she had also thrived on matching me fuck for fuck, with my cock in her asshole and her tunnel around my shaft. And then, there at the end she took her pleasure as strongly as I had taken mine. So equals then, sometimes? But forever feeding on me but also feeding me, as if by some strange transmutation of my sex juice she found nourishment. And I realised, with some dread, that the birds were getting bigger, stronger....
However, she was gone now and I was probably safe from this fantastic madness, at least for a little while. After pulling my clothes on, I took the opportunity to look around the room. Nothing special, but clearly it had not been occupied for a very long time, decades even. In the middle of the far wall, opposite the door, there was another door, shut.
Moving closer I could see that there was a bolt on the door, one of those big ones you lock with a padlock. There was no lock now, but I could see that the hinges at some time, long ago for the torn metal was near rusted through, the hinges had been forcefully leveraged away from the wall. As if the door had been locked tight and needed to be forced open.
Curious, I pushed against the door and it swung open. Shit, this was obviously Mack's dovecote. The circular room had high walls, maybe ten foot in height, every surface covered with little alcoves for the birds to roost. And at regular intervals around the walls there were small circular openings, each maybe ten inches diameter. Small enough for birds to come in and out, but way too small for even the smallest child to get through. So the only way into the room was through the doorway in which I stood.
And the only way out was through the same door. Which could be locked from the outside. And had been broken open. Because someone had padlocked the door. And taken the key. Fuck. Was this the final resting place for Grace? Was this where she met her death? In a place made for birds? And who was it who locked her in?
- COMMENTS
ElectricBluealmost 10 years agoAuthorThe next two chapters are on their way.
I'm writing this story backwards, I think. I know the last sentence of the last paragraph, and I've just got to get Grace and the narrator to that place. Hopefully I can keep some twists and turns coming as they get there!
Thanks again for wanting to read this little tale.
Anonymousalmost 10 years agoYou are one talented writer, no less, such an incredible story this is, all four chapters of it, and oh how I wait for another release of such a magnificent story, for I shall be reading more. By god, you are splendid, absolutely terrific, and must wrote more, as I have no doubt that you shall.
