Chapter 17
seventeen
Baz spanked our asses red. Gretel and I kneeled next to one another on all fours. He went back and forth, slapping my ass cheek and then Gretel’s. I sucked back a hiss several times. Gretel’s brow wrinkled as she whimpered. Baz didn’t take it easy on us; his silence a reproach too.
And the punishment continued the next day.
I wore only my pinafore, and it wasn’t a coincidence when I found a list of tasks Baz had left for me, such as washing the floorboards and cleaning the fireplaces. All things that required me to bend over.
Air touched my ass and pussy, but for most of the morning, I never saw Baz. I did, however, hear him. Gretel’s whimpers and moans echoed down the hallways.
I sat in front of one of the fireplaces, unable to move as I heard the stinging slaps and the cries. He never let her come, and I felt her pain. Acutely.
The memories of Baz’s cock in my mouth lingered all night and day. The feeling of his pulsing cock releasing his semen.
I rubbed at my shoulders after finishing one of my tasks when I felt a cool breeze against my skin. Not just sliding around my shoulders, helping my sticky neck. Baz’s whisper of elemental magic curled around my bare pussy.
For the first time in hours, the Manor sat silent.
I picked myself up off the floor, leaving my bucket and tools by the fireplace. I wiped soot off my face and followed the gentle path of magic.
I passed a naked Gretel, sitting on her knees, her nose almost touching the wall. Her head inclined just the slightest, but she made no further move to acknowledge my presence.
Ducking under an arched doorway, I found Baz in one of his favorite spots in the Manor.
The room had a high ceiling with tons of framed paintings hanging along the walls.
It was a part of the house that shouldn’t be so stately, but how else could a Manor of such Gothic, grand scale be anything less?
It was also one of the few rare spots in the house that allowed sunlight to stream through.
That’s how I found Baz that day. Sitting on a red-cushioned bench, against the dark paneling of the wall, in his suit. He’d lost his jacket, but he wore his trousers and a buttoned vest over his dark long-sleeved shirt.
The sunlight glinted off of him.
He leaned back, his knees far apart, one arm stretched along the back of the bench. Black tousled hair and dilated pupils.
I walked straight to him, needing no direction. I kneeled at his feet. For one second and then two, I stared at the red rug. He didn’t move, but I swore I felt his silent command. Lifting my chin, I met his hooded eyes, brimming with desire.
My stomach dipped.
“I much prefer this uniform, fairy,” he said, his voice made of gravel. I caught sight of his hands, the same ones that had spent hours punishing Gretel, and shivered. “Your ass should always be displayed to me.”
I bowed my head again.
He took my chin, making me meet his eye. “You know you’ve been bad.”
I nodded.
“I count on you to guide Gretel right.” A delicate heat sparked on my cheeks, and if he saw my mind working, he tsked. “Fairy, you know you can speak to me at any given moment.”
But getting my tongue to move, my words to form, had always been the problem. I didn’t know how to voice the embarrassment and wants that routinely drove my mind mad.
“Fairy.” The one pet name told me he knew exactly how much I struggled. I hated it, yet loved that he could understand my anxiety. “Let’s have a conversation.”
He forced me to stand and then patted his thigh.
I bit my lip when the rough wool of his trousers rubbed against my pussy.
“I don’t even have to look down to know you’re ruining my pants,” he said, still using that low, brooding voice. “Tangwystle. . . do you want me to fuck your pussy?”
I nodded, but he merely raised one eyebrow.
“Y-yes, please sir,” I replied softly, my stomach tightening the longer I stared into his eyes.
“You know I’ve been desperate too, fairy,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Since the moment you tried to slam the door in my face.”
Something like a surprised laugh tried to bubble up. The image of snowflakes falling onto the stone floor scattered through my memory. Baz with all his ridiculous luggage.
Then the flashbacks turned to us sitting in the kitchen eating. Baz trying to help me despite his dreadful ability to clean. The pair of us reading in the library.
The memories only got brighter and fonder when Gretel appeared, no matter how awful the circumstances were.
This time, something lighter held us together, but somehow so much more powerful, as I peered at him.
This was Baz. My Baz. I realized that being nervous wasn’t the same as being afraid.
I placed a hand on Baz’s shoulder and he allowed it.
“Show me how much you want it,” he ordered. “Show me how much your greedy cunt is desperate for my cock.”
My hips bucked, my pussy rubbing against the fabric of his trousers.
He brushed my hair back, but otherwise didn’t touch me. “That’s right, ride me.”
No shame coursed through me—just pure want.
Me in my white pinafore, naked underneath and riding Baz’s thigh.
“You want to come don’t you?” he asked. Some unintelligible noise came from me. “My pretty fairy. Keep moving. I need to know how much you want this.”
I don’t think it could have been any clearer.
“Do you know what it was like waking up to find you playing with my cock?” he asked, and I had to bite down on my lip. “Every day since arriving, I’ve had to stop myself from fucking your mouth. Those pretty red lips, with their bad habit of always talking back.”
I made a noise and he tsked. “We’re not here to debate that fact, fairy. If it’s not your mouth it’s the little narrowed eyes and foot that stomps anytime you think I’m making a mess. Though, it appears you love making messes too.”
I’m not sure how my skin hadn’t combusted into flames yet. My hips moved, everything in me tightening.
He finally touched me, pulling a whimper from me. His hands slid under the pinafore, running over my skin. Up and down my curves. All gentle touches and nowhere near my pussy. His fingers skimmed the sides of my breasts, avoiding my hard nipples.
I ached for him. And if he wanted me to show it, he got it. In the way I slid up and down on his thigh, trying to rub my clit against him. The moans I didn’t hold back.
His cock strained against his pants, his eyes darkening.
“Such a pretty fairy,” he murmured when my cunt clenched and a cry spilled out of my mouth, my lips falling apart.
Baz ran a hand through my hair, softly.
“Everything you do pleases me,” he said in a low voice. I leaned my head on his shoulder, unable to sit straight. His hand ran down my backside, kneading into my ass. “Even when you and Gretel get up to naughty things.”
“I wanted to touch you,” I admitted. “I want to please you as much as Gretel does. And as much as you please me.”
He caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You please me every day, Tangwystle. With your kindness and your funny witch’s hat and your insistence on making us eat vegetables.”
He leaned his forehead so we were touching. “But the next time you want to play with my cock, it’s me you come to, you understand.”
I nodded.
“Tangwystle.” He sounded pained as he shifted. “I am desperate for your cunt.”
I clung on tighter to him, and he smiled.
“Are you ready, my fairy?”
He guided me off of him, and I’m not sure how either of us managed to walk. On my part, I was a shaky mess. And he might be fully clothed, but he had a wet patch on his thigh and his cock strained painfully against his trousers.
We passed Gretel on the way to the stairs. Her nose still pressed against the wall. I realized then that this was another part of her punishment. Listening to us in the next room. Her hair shifted ever so slightly, but she knew better than to look at us.
Taking my hand, Baz led me up the stairs.
Once we were in the room, he shut the door and told me to take his clothes off.
I landed on my knees, beginning with his leather shoes.
Untying them, I slipped one off his foot and then the other.
I placed them in a row by the door and then took off his socks.
I stood to unbutton his shirt, my fingers surprisingly steady.
His gaze remained on me, warming my skin.
I unfastened his trousers, pulling them down his legs.
He didn’t help me remove them. I kneeled again, lifting one foot to pull the fabric from his ankle and then the other.
“Fold them,” he said.
I folded his clothes, placing them in the wooden armoire.
“Take it off,” he commanded of the pinafore.
I untied the strings, pulling the ruffled edges of the sleeves off. I folded it too, placing it on the chair, and Baz said nothing. It didn’t have a spot in the bedroom because it belonged on the hook in the kitchen.
“Pull the sheets off.”
I complied, pulling the satin duvet back until only the flat sheet I’d fitted on this morning remained.
He motioned for me to get on the bed. “On your back.”
Heart hammering and my shoulders shivering, I crawled onto the middle of the bed. The cool air whisked over my skin as I stared up at the ceiling.
Baz stepped to the end of the bed. The frame was a great, thick piece of wood, and unless he crawled over the end of the bed, it blocked him slightly. But he made no move to get into the bed.
He took an ankle, spreading me out, and inspected every inch of me. My nipples hardened painfully, my pussy throbbing for something.
He leaned over the bed, his fingers running up my inner thigh. Then he pushed my legs even farther apart, my hips bucking in response.
And then bucked again when his tongue licked the length of my folds.
“How often this cunt has taunted me.”
He took his time, his tongue running up and down. Then he spread my folds, his tongue spearing inside me.
When I squirmed, he placed an arm over my waist, effectively barring me from moving.
At his mercy.