The Cheeky Shag: Leda
By Baylee McKeel
Leda was a virgin. A virgin with a voluptuous body that clung to her thin white dress every day in the sweaty summer sun. But Leda was also peculiar. She resisted every man who decided that he was going to sweep her off her feet and ravish her raw. Her parents helped, of course. Having a gorgeous, pure virgin in the family such as herself was invaluable and her father was hoping to marry her off to a wealthy man of means. If they could’ve manufactured a functioning chastity belt they would have. She even had to hush her moans at night when she slid her hands down her stomach, caressed her thighs and finally stroked that moist, ripe fruit so many men wished they could devour. Her mother heard her one cool July night and burst in shouting at her for ruining her innocence and therefore her worth. The problem was Leda rejected every man her father tried to set her up with.
She couldn’t imagine any of her suitors making her feel the way she did when she was alone at night, smothering her whimpers into a pillow, legs tensing until that final moment of long awaited relief washed over her entire body. One day her father informed her that she was to be married to a king and that was the end of the discussion. The day of the wedding she took a stroll through the forest near her house and stopped to rest at a pond she had visited many times before. A swan was circling, gracefully floating on the water and slowly turned towards Leda making his way to the edge of the bank. She was captured by his elegance, so much so that she didn’t think it odd when he stood up from the water and passed by her, stroking her lightly with his feathers. She couldn’t hide the hair-raising sighs and the swan sensed her lust. She felt the gentle touch of feathers against her neck and again down her shoulders and before she knew it her thin white dress was fluttering down to the soft leafy ground below.
Leda wasn’t sure if she should be fearful or wary but the soft feel of feathers grazing her skin was relaxing and she couldn’t help but be drawn to the creature’s gracefulness and air of sensuality and to finally give into desire. The freedom she felt in that moment was liberating, intoxicating, and arousing. She had no need to muffle her screams, hold back her squeals, or stop her legs from tensing and writhing in pleasure. When Leda and the swan were finished, he left her lying motionless on the damp forest floor. She couldn’t begin to process what had just happened to her, all she could do was revel in the waves of satisfaction and peacefulness that were pulsing through her. She lay there until her soon to be husband found her. How he didn’t abandon her then and there she would never know. The man must have been desperate to wed a woman lying naked in a bed of leaves, twigs tangled through her deranged hair, soft satisfied smile across her face, and sweat and dew inextricably mixed down her body. He blamed it on wedding nerves and never seemed to notice when she would sneak off with a feather to that same pond, hoping to relive that moment of pure ecstasy and freedom.