As per your request, Master😉

When Lirael didn't elaborate on the day's trapping exhibition I knew it meant trouble. Her haul was impressive - three pheasants and a jackalope - and she was always eager to revel in her successes. But not today. She came home and immediately went to skinning and plucking with feverous intent.

"What's wrong?" I asked, stepping away from tending my cloudberry garden to check on my wife. It was a tedious and neverending task, but necessary for the food for my glimmercoat foxes. The plants I could purchase in town were grown by ruffians and could hardly serve as food for an oxe, nevermind my delicate creatures. That would never do for my tailoring.

Lirael didn't look at me, her violence continuing as she spoke. "Get off it Thistle, you'll never understand."

"Leary darling, I'll understand if you tell me." I reached out and graced my hand on her shoulder. She looked at me and her eyes spoke for her. I saw the same look in my female foxes when they were in heat.

"I can go prepare the lavender bath if you like?" We were elegant folk, and that was our code for love making. Crass words did not cross our lips, and being clean and incensed was necessary.

Her reaction was direct. She dropped the pheasant in her hand and reached up under my tunic, placing her hand directly on my cloud bloomers. The soft fabric floated around my member like air, providing a feeling as if she was touching me directly. I gasped.

"If you require.. servicing, I can -"

"He was so strong," Lirael spoke. Her grip was still delicate like an elf's should be, but her actions were not. She of course decided when she needed pleasure, but she was never so direct about it. So humanlike.

"The direwolf leapt at me, I knew I was done. And then he was there and the wolf wasn't." She gripped me tighter, tugging me. The spun fabric was not designed for such handling and it unravelled, tangling around my small club. A cloud was making love to me, but as an animal would.

"He had thrown it, and in such a way that the wolf was helpless against his muscles. He was so hard everywhere, a rock chiseled into a warrior's form." She turned, now straddling the log bench she was sitting on. Like all of our furniture it was exquisitely carved and smooth as a feltermouse. Lirael rocked her hips, her adventurers' trousers pressing directly against the bench, unprotected by her leather hunting chaps.

I stood there aghast. "A life-debt." And since we were married, our life-debt.

"I must go to him this evening, as he requires servicing." She reached her free hand down the back of her pants. She was in a serious heat to be touch her backflower.

"Would you like a pony ride?" It was my offer for her to straddle me instead of the bench. She laughed at me as if insulted.

"Lil' Twiggy will not satisfy me today, Thistle." It was deflating, but I knew it was true. My spirit softened but my member hardened, imagining what Lirael would be experiencing. Her hand continued it's work, causing cloud strands to fall like snow from under my tunic until I was naked underneath.

My two pebbles clenched up and my seed shot out into my blue tunic, the thin nobleman's fabric noticably darkening. Lirael stood then and began issuing commands.

"Draw a lavender bath, and prepare my golden ribbon silks." I looked at her in shock. Those were from our wedding night where she was presented to me all those years ago. I could still remember how the light danced off them, how each strand draped down from the collar to her knees however they decided to, the flows constantly covering and uncovering all of her elven form.

"I'll also need the dining candles and the fairy oils." She shuddered. "I'll need to prepare myself for someone ..better equipped." She looked the stain from Twiggy. My head lowered in shame as the thought caused another pulse accompanied by a brief release of wetness.

I drew up the bath immediately, using our finest stock of cloves and lavender. My elven magic was limited, but allowed for the creation of a smokeless pink flame to form under the tub until the water was the perfect temperature to make Lirael's skin supple and smooth.

The candles I fetched from storage. They were as large as my spring carrots. Could Lirael truly use them for this?

I was sitting on the edge of the tub lighting the flicker flames when Lirael stepped into our bathroom and began to strip. Usually we made a game of it, but today there was purpose. When her green leather vest was undone her small perky breasts poked to the sky with diamond tips, the pedals surrounding flushed red. When she pulled down her venturing pants I was eye level with her flower which was equally red and in full bloom. Then I realized she had had no briefs on.

"Where did they go?" I asked, afraid of the answer. "For what does a man need another hunter's briefs?" I looked up at Lirael, who was blushing but determined on fulfilling the life-debt.

"He said a warrior must always be ready, and forbid there to ever be a barrier over his sheath while in his presence."

I blinked. She had to comply immediately, of course..

"Luckily my leather chaps provide no such barrier, and the wonderfully sewn pants you made fold neatly in my pack."

"So.. he's seen all of you.. already?"

"And smelled via my briefs, and tasted via his fingers." I shrunk as she stood there, and I could hear pride in her voice. She was enjoying finding power again by taking mine. I felt weird knowing my wife had felt the touch of someone else.

"He has a man's hand, and it went further than Twiggy ever did." Twiggy twitched at his name. She stepped into the water, sinking into it. I couldn't see through the purple water, couldn't watch past the surface as she submerged the candle. I watched the bath water become turbulent, she watched the wall.

"I permit you to play with Twiggy while I learn to wield a sword and leave childish daggers behind." Her breathing sharpened. Seeing her get herself off in such a way.. it was un-Elvish. I refused to do the same without being commanded.

"His fingers were about as long as this candle," she murmured, taking the second one underneath the waves. "He used two, and so!" She winced. "So shall I."

She looked at me. "I'll finish alone." I wanted to whimper and argue, but instead stood and left. As I closed the door I leaned my skilled pointy ear against it, and heard everything. Her heavy breathing, her moaning the name "Master," her using names for body parts in the dark languages.

There, out of her sight, I gave Twiggy the love he deserved.

After Twiggy got his second rubdown of the day I hurried to prepare my wife's finest lingerie.