Eccho Steem's guest appearances

Eccho Steem

Nobilis Erotica

OwlTail

This month's patron-funded story is Feeling Sheepish by Eccho Steem.  It's narrated by Ophelia Offenhauser. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class I have the greatest master who ever lived. He’s always so nice and gentle with me. Ever since I was a little lamb girl. Especially now when it comes to shearing day. I love days like these so much. Not only do I get the satisfaction of being sheared, but if I’m good, I get a little reward from him. And it just so happens that both of the criterias have been met. I sit on my little stool, patiently waiting for him to prepare his shears. Once he does, he pets me on the head and says, “Ready?” “Yeah,” I answer back with a giggle, “Now, remember, it’s still early, so we’re gonna need to be really quiet, ok?” “Yes, master.” “Good.” He turns on the shears and gets started. It’s always a remarkable sensation. Especially when it starts. They’re cold, but not unbearable, they vibrate, but because of certain adjustments that he’s made to them, it feels more like a massage, and words can’t begin to express the feeling of the air on my newly exposed skin. It’s otherworldly. He glides the shears from my back to my neck, scraping off the wool from my body. He then takes a moment to trim my hair to the style that I like, a short French bob with bangs. He really is the best. When he’s done with that, he stands me up, moving on to my legs and working up to my butt, watching out for my tail as he knows that it’s the one part that I don’t want to be sheared.

This month's patron-funded story is Feeling Sheepish by Eccho Steem.  It's narrated by Ophelia Offenhauser. <a href="http://patreon.com/nobilis" rel="noopener nofollow" target="_blank">For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign.</a> <a href="https://riverdaleavebooks.com/books/5471/monster-whisperer-second-class" rel="noopener nofollow" target="_blank">Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class</a> I have the greatest master who ever lived. He’s always so nice and gentle with me. Ever since I was a little lamb girl. Especially now when it comes to shearing day. I love days like these so much. Not only do I get the satisfaction of being sheared, but if I’m good, I get a little reward from him. And it just so happens that both of the criterias have been met. I sit on my little stool, patiently waiting for him to prepare his shears. Once he does, he pets me on the head and says, “Ready?” “Yeah,” I answer back with a giggle, “Now, remember, it’s still early, so we’re gonna need to be really quiet, ok?” “Yes, master.” “Good.” He turns on the shears and gets started. It’s always a remarkable sensation. Especially when it starts. They’re cold, but not unbearable, they vibrate, but because of certain adjustments that he’s made to them, it feels more like a massage, and words can’t begin to express the feeling of the air on my newly exposed skin. It’s otherworldly. He glides the shears from my back to my neck, scraping off the wool from my body. He then takes a moment to trim my hair to the style that I like, a short French bob with bangs. He really is the best. When he’s done with that, he stands me up, moving on to my legs and working up to my butt, watching out for my tail as he knows that it’s the one part that I don’t want to be sheared.