Roleplays

Phoebe and Barly

"Barly get yer bird lookin' ass over here and massage my boobs. They hurt."

Barly's feathers immediately poof up as his skin flushed red. "M-m-miss, that's a rather risque request..."

She put on an impatient expression, crossing her arms under her breasts. "Massage. Them. Now."

"I-I-I'm....er....a-alright, miss, but if anyone walked in and saw a lowly servant like me...fondling you, what would they think?" He asked. As always, he was more concerned for her than himself.

"That I gave you the order to do it." She then smirked. "Would you rather a lower servant do it for you?"

"N-no no, it'd..uhm, it'd....." He sighed as his feathers stayed poofed up, the small wings on his head flapping gently. "...r-right, i-i'm sorry for arguing miss, I was just worried that I might ruin your image...i-i will..massage them, like you asked."

"Mmm. They've stopped hurting. Nevermind." She gave him a reassuring pat on the head with an evil little smile.

He huffed, sweating profusely. "Uhm, m-miss, w-were...you trying to tease m-m-me?" He asked quietly as his feathers began to settle down in relief.

"Are you allowed to question your princess?" She tilted her head to the side, lips still curled in a smile.

He looked down sadly. "N-n-not unless its OK..." He answered, feeling stupid for asking her in the first place.

"That's what I thought. But then you asked me that question any how, didn't you?" She pulled on a thoughtful expression, tapping her chin. "Disobeying orders...that's punishable by death, y'know."

"I-I understand..." He answered, seeming to accept this rather than panic, but he did look a little pale as if he was worried about something aside from his own demise.

She reached and put a hand on his cheek, a much softer smile creeping to her lips. "Don't worry, I won't have you killed. You're too cute to get rid of."

His face warmed up a bit as his feathers rised and poofed up. He seemed to flinch at first at her touch, but eased into it as if it comforted him. "...I was just worried over who'd look after you if I was executed.."

"Don't you worry your little head about it." She gave a genuine grin. She then slipped her hand away. "Now they hurt again. Massage."

His face turned red "O-o-oh dear, was it my fault this time? O-o-oh no!" He panicked 'subtly'. "I-i-if that's what miss wants, of course. I-i-im very sorry!"

She smirked lightly, putting her hands on her hips. "If you do it well, I'll give you a treat~"

"M-m-miss, I don't need a reward. It's already a treat to be serving and protecting, and importantly keep you happy. I just..hope I can do it right. I've uh...never..massaged..er...you know."

She sighed softly, raising her hands and unbottoning the button on her dress. "Let me make it...'easier'." She then slipped it down, revealing her flimsy under blouse.

His face was letting off steam as it was now a dark red. Poor guy was drenched in sweat as usual. "I-i really hope no one sees us like this...I don't wanna ruin the miss's image..." He quietly mumbled to himself.

"Go on ahead~" She put her hands behind her back, breast having all of their jiggle back from being compressed for so long.

He obviously was hesitating, but soon closed his eyes tightly as he put his hands nervously on her breasts, shakily trying to massage them. God this felt wrong for him to be groping his beloved mistress like this, but...an order was an order, and he wanted to keep her happy.