Chapter 3
Vazul
Iswept the upstairs floors with far more strength than necessary, a clear sign of my aggravation.
Then again, uneasiness might be a more appropriate word, which greatly bothered me.
I definitely wasn’t digging the emotions emanating from my Coral.
Even dampened by the distance, they tasted foul compared to those she expressed earlier.
I loved the repressed desire and blossoming fascination she felt towards me.
There was nothing more delectable to me than to break the last resistance of a target eager to be conquered.
And my Mistress wanted me to do all kinds of unspeakable things to her, once her consciousness reconciled with the secret wishes of her subconscious.
Why was she so damn butt hurt? I spoke honestly.
The entire concept of her project was indeed brilliant.
A simple glimpse sufficed for me to appreciate the creativity, the impeccable storytelling, the innovative approach she took with some of the furniture, and the harmonious flow of each element she created.
It was truly wonderful. But the execution was beyond dreadful.
The finishing was lacking. Some of the miniature furniture wasn’t properly scaled, or not perfectly even.
The materials she used for the shingles on the roof or to make the fake blankets were abysmal.
Instead of kicking me out, Coral should have thanked me for pointing out that her concept could be improved, then asked me to fix it. After all, that was the whole point of having a Liderc.
But she’s clueless about my kind.
How is that even possible? She hatched me.
You didn’t waltz around with an egg under your armpit for hours just for fun.
Granted, she claimed she had just retrieved it with nowhere else to put it, but I felt her care for the safety of my egg beckoning me.
She feared I had gotten harmed at some point.
So how could she claim she had no idea of what I was?
People usually were beside themselves with joy when they successfully hatched one of us. They understood our worth and how invaluable an asset we could be. But she didn’t want me. She genuinely wanted to get rid of me and cast me back from whence I came.
That truly hurt my feelings—something I never thought one such as I would ever say.
Obviously, she lusted for me. How could she not? Beyond the fact that I knew myself to naturally be very attractive, I was a sex demon. Our basic aura instinctively drew people to us. Despite that, she was still considering getting rid of me. And my words only fanned that flame.
That won’t do.
After all, I chose her, too. There was a reason so many aspirants failed to secure their own Lidercs.
I wouldn’t be so easily dismissed. Anyway, she would soon find out it wasn’t as simple a task to accomplish.
And I would make it even more impossible for her to achieve such a ridiculous goal.
I was her Liderc, and she was my Mistress.
No one would take away what was rightfully mine without my consent.
And I did not consent to parting with her.
Maybe I should just apologize...
But she ordered me to get out. However much I disagreed with any of her commands, I had to obey. Otherwise, I would have pointed out how unreasonable she was being. Therefore, I had to comply.
She didn’t forbid me from returning.
When it came to exploiting loopholes, demons and other netherworld beings excelled at finding the cracks they could slip through. An almost malicious grin stretched my lips before another wave of my Mistress’ conflicting emotions irked me again.
She kept going from distress to determination, defeat to hope, annoyance to confusion, and then right back to the beginning.
I wanted to run back downstairs, spank the silly out of her, fuck her senseless to remind her of what a treasure she now possessed in me, then fix the messy parts of her project while she basked in the afterglow.
Pleased with that plan, I hurried through my chore so that I could go back to my Coral. Just as I was about to head downstairs, I caught my reflection in her mirror.
Fuck, I do look mighty fine!
I struck a couple of poses, admiring the ridges of my cock and how my inner fire glowed between some of the creases on demand. Thinking how insane with pleasure it would make my woman had me stiffening in seconds.
But she’s annoyed with my nudity.
I instantly balked at the thought of covering up. How was I to properly entice her without flaunting all that I had to offer?
You’re more than just a hot body.
True. I was far more. In fact, I was everything she didn’t even know she wanted or needed.
It struck me then that I was approaching this all wrong.
She didn’t understand what I was. Therefore, my bluntness distressed her.
Her emotions clearly indicated that she needed to be cheered up before we could engage in a more rational conversation that would eventually help lower her infuriating barriers.
Stepping all over her boundaries by strutting back into her workshop with my overly eager cock on full display wouldn’t earn me any favors.
I rummaged through her wardrobe and drawers, careful to put everything back exactly in its place—although I did realign a few things that weren’t perfectly positioned.
Her slender frame didn’t agree with my much more muscular stature when it came to clothing apparels.
I loved everything in her closet, which I already pictured how perfectly they would hug the scrumptious curves of her body. And that butt of hers…!
My mouth watered just reminiscing about how perfectly round and perky it had felt beneath my palm when I checked how much she had bruised it with that absurd fall. I still wanted to roll my eyes at the thought of her trying to run away from me.
After a bit more rummaging, I finally found the perfect outfit. Beyond the fact that it was the only thing that fit, it looked so ridiculous on me that it would undoubtedly provide the result I was aiming for.
I made my way back downstairs, barefoot and shirtless. The strangest thrill coursed down my spine as I knocked on the door and then swiftly opened to prevent her from sending me away before she saw me.
Right on cue, she jerked her head towards the door with an angry expression.
“I said go a… What the fuck?!” she exclaimed upon taking in my appearance.
It took every ounce of my willpower not to burst out laughing. Still, I couldn’t help a smug smile when her anger gave way to shock before she started giggling. The unpleasant taint of her previous emotions faded, bringing back the delightful taste I was already becoming addicted to.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Coral asked with disbelief, still chuckling.
“You said I needed to put some clothes on. So I did. Not exactly my aesthetic, but it fits reasonably well, does it not?” I asked, batting my eyelashes before striking a pose, pivoting to give her a 360 view, and then striking a final pose.
She chuckled again. Fuck, I wanted to feast on those emotions. But as feeding made my eyes glow, I didn’t want to break this fragile truce by being too greedy.
“Right, but this? A pink tutu on a muscular sex demon is beyond silly,” she replied in a gently chastising tone.
“But it made you laugh,” I said matter-of-factly. “Your happy emotions are pleasant and much nicer than what you were broadcasting earlier.”
Her smile instantly vanished, and she glared at me, her resentment rearing its ugly head again.
“Then you shouldn’t have taken a massive shit on my work,” she snapped, folding her arms angrily over her chest.
“I didn’t shit on your work,” I said firmly. “Didn’t I state that the concept was brilliant? Because it absolutely is, so is the creativity. But the execution is lacking. I apologize if my wording offended you. I am used to being blunt, not necessarily diplomatic. Here, let me show you.”
Coral scrunched her face, seeming unsure as to whether she was willing to forgive me just yet.
However, she seemed somewhat mollified but the sincerity in my voice.
She rose from her work desk where she had apparently been ordering materials.
I gestured for her to approach as I hovered over the central table where many of the mostly completed miniature buildings were sitting.
“The wallpaper in that living area is stunning. But you can see over there that it isn’t straight.
It has to be redone as the wall decorations that you placed, especially those paintings, really highlight the flaws,” I explained in as kind a tone as I could muster.
“The scale of this couch is deceptively perfect in the context of this room. But when you look at the adjacent one on the other side of the partition wall, you can see the significant discrepancy. The living room seems to house a giant while the study seems to be home to a dwarf. Consistency is a must.”
Coral’s shoulders slouched. “I know. That couch is part of my long list of things to fix and redo.”
I gave her an approving smile. “Good. There are few tricks I will gladly share with you that can help expedite the process.”
I then pointed to the dining room of the haunted mansion.
“This table is a beautiful design, perfect scale, and fully appropriate for the setting and era. However, all I see is that… chair at the head of the table.”
I barely caught myself before I would have said horrendous chair instead. That would have completely defeated my reconciliation efforts.
I picked up the chair, grabbed a filing nail, then began to sand down the excess of material that kept the legs uneven, with one of them slightly thicker than the other three. Once done, I put it back inside the open-faced miniature house then glanced at her.
“Isn’t it better now?” I asked in a gentle voice.
She made a face then nodded. “Those stupid legs always give me a hard time.”