by Reed James
Gunnar's chest and stomach burned. Red welts crisscrossed his body. He stared at himself in the mirror, wincing as he traced a single line.
Why am I doing this?
The pain had been exciting while he had been tied up. The surrender had been freeing. He didn't ache for Maeve while the flail was falling. His blood had been boiling, his cock throbbing with bliss.
But now, his ardor cold, his body just hurt. It didn't seem worth it.
The bathroom door opened. Corrigan smiled at him. “What's wrong,” she purred, stepping up to him.
“Nothing,” he muttered.
“Did I whip you too hard?” Her finger stroked a red welt. He stiffened, prepared for the stinging jolt of pain.
Her touch soothed instead, numbing away some of the sting.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I just enjoy the sound of my flail stinging flesh.”
“It's okay,” Gunnar muttered.
Her arm slipped around him. Gunnar absently put his arm around Corrigan's shoulders. She leaned her head against him, her finger tracing his welts, the pain fading. “I do love you,” she sighed. “You're my strong warrior. You'll keep me safe.”
“Yeah,” Gunnar whispered. “I love you, too.”
Why did I say that? Just because she said it? Because her touch is soothing my pain?
The three words sounded so hollow when he spoke them. Gunnar's heart tightened, squeezed by invisible chains of ice. He missed Maeve. He wanted Maeve. He feared Maeve. Gunnar shivered as images of the monstrous Maeve flashed through his mind. He struggled to hold onto the loving Maeve, but the monstrous one was drowning her out. Every time he tried to remember her—sleeping, tending her rose bush, watching a Tinkerbell movie with childish glee—she seemed twisted and wrong, the real Maeve bleeding disgustingly through the sweet mask she had worn.
The bathroom grew colder, an icy draft blowing around him.
Every time Maeve had touched him, it had really been with a slimy hand. His stomach writhed as her perfect breasts became covered in oozing boils, his lips unknowingly nuzzling at puss-filled sores. Gunnar's stomach twisted.
He vomited into the sink.
“Oh, no,” Corrigan gasped. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Gunnar panted, spitting out bile. He turned the sink on, leaning over to drink straight from the faucet and wash the disgusting taste away.
Corrigan rubbed at his shoulders, the nausea fading from his stomach. Her fingers massaged his shoulders. “You were thinking about her, weren't you?”
Gunnar nodded.
“It's okay. If I had touched that repulsive creature as intimately as you had, I would be puking, too. Let me get you some medicine to help settle your stomach.”
“Thanks,” Gunnar muttered. He sat on the toilet, leaning back as she walked out. The icy draft faded. Maeve rose in his mind, smiling.
He pushed the image away, fearing Maeve's innocence would transform into the monstrous. I need to let her go. I need to stop thinking about her.
I need to stop loving her.
Corrigan returned as Gunnar fought his tears.
~ ~ ~
Maeve climbed out of Brad's car, eager to see Magda. She's not dead! Joy filled her as strode into the hospital, dressed in her sorority sister's borrowed clothing. When she had left the sorority, her sisters were busy searching for cold iron spikes. Maeve had a plan forming in her mind.
Brad and Felicity walked beside her as they strode into Tacoma General, walking to the nurses station. The nurse blushed when she saw Maeve, bringing a smile to the Pixie's face. Two weeks ago, this same nurse had caught Maeve and Gunnar making love in her hospital room.
Maeve's joy faded. I'll get you back.
“Which room is Magdalena Vicario in?” Maeve asked.
The nurse glanced down at her papers. “Room 318. Head that way and take the first left. You'll see it on your right.”
“Thanks,” Maeve smiled.
“And you're not going to...” the nurse trailed off.
Maeve winked at her as she strode down the hallway.
“What was that about?” Felicity asked. The blonde giggled when Maeve explained it.
The trio quickly found room 318. Maeve opened the door cautiously. Three people were inside, standing beside Magda's bed. Maeve's friend looked so weak and vulnerable as she lay there, surrounded by machines.
“Maeve?” Professor Sommer gasped. The buxom redhead held Magda's hand, tears glistening in her green eyes. “You're here.”
“Oh, Maeve!” Akiko gasped, rushing over to hug Maeve. “You're okay. I was so worried.”
“You're...back,” Evan blinked. “I...wow. I thought you were gone for good.”
“Well, I'm not,” Maeve declared, focusing on Evan. Why did you drive Gunnar to Corrigan's? Are you under her power?
Maeve could read auras, and Evan's seemed normal. His love for his soul mate Akiko was intact, and Maeve knew Corrigan couldn't resist tampering with a love that strong.
But he made sure Gunnar was at Corrigan's house at the right moment.
“Oh, Maeve,” Akiko sighed. “I hate to tell you this, but...”
“Corrigan and Gunnar are together.” Maeve nodded. “We need to talk about that.”
“Can you heal her?” Professor Sommer interrupted, more tears flowing from her green eyes. “Can you heal my Magda?”
“Maybe,” Maeve said, looking around. “I'll need roses.”
“How can you heal her?” Akiko frowned. “What are you, Maeve?.”
“I'm a Pixie,” Maeve answered.
Evan shrugged and Akiko nodded her head, both accepting rather fast. Maeve frowned at Evan. While Akiko had been at the sorority, Evan had witnessed nothing supernatural. So why are you so accepting? Are you Corrigan's pawn or did she just trick you Saturday night?
“So, I need at least two dozen roses,” Maeve said, staring at her comatose friend. “They feed my power.”
“I'll go get some,” Evan said.
Maeve nodded her head.
“And then I'll need passionate energy.”
Akiko's eyes widened. “You mean...”
“I must share in all of your passionate love.”
Akiko swallowed, her round face paling. “Umm, maybe you don't need me and Evan for that.”
Maeve shook her head. “No. I'm sure Professor Sommer, Brad, Felicity, and I will be enough.”
Akiko nodded her head. “I think that's for the best.” She took a deep breath. “Maeve, what happened that night?”
Maeve gave her a quick version, leaving off her plans. She trusted Akiko, but Evan... The Black man returned with several bouquets of red roses, their sweet scent filling the room. Maeve's heart fluttered as she breathed in their perfume.
“Well, we'll leave you to...your fun,” a blushing Akiko said.
“Are you sure, babe?” Evan asked with a grin, leering at Maeve, Felicity, and Professor Sommer.
“Do you really want to see me and Brad...do that?” Akiko responded.
Evan furrowed his brow. “Not really. But you and Felicity...”
“Pervert,” she laughed, pushing her boyfriend, who seemed almost twice her height, out of the hospital room. “I hope it works, Maeve.”
“Maybe,” Maeve said, shivering. She was daunted by the task, but she would try for her friend.
Maeve guided Professor Sommer to the chair, pushing her down. She drew on the fragrant rose, the same way Maeve had when she had healed herself after being stabbed. As she pushed up the Professor's skirt and pulled down her panties, Maeve pushed the power into Professor Sommer, touching the bond between the teacher and her soul mate Magda.
“Oh, my!” Professor Sommer gasped as the energy trickled in. “It's growing a little warm.”
She unbuttoned her blouse as Maeve licked up her thigh to her tart pussy. The teacher moaned as she bared her bra-clad tits, Maeve's tongue teasing the edge of her labia. Maeve savored Professor Sommer's flavor, her tongue gliding over the
folds and ridges.
A hand touched Maeve, slim and feminine. Felicity pulled Maeve's skirt off, exposing her naked ass. The Pixie hated wearing bras and panties, they impeded having fun. Felicity's finger ran through Maeve's shaved vulva, the passion swelling inside Maeve.
“Oh, yes!” gasped Professor Sommer, her bra coming off to expose those heavy breasts. “I can feel it.”
“Concentrate on Magda,” Maeve purred, licking her lips clean of Professor Sommer's juices. “Pour all your love into her.”
The Professor nodded, her hips writhing as Maeve buried her lips back into the Professor's pussy. The Pixie tongued her, swirling through her pussy lips. Brad moved in, naked, his cock hard, and he nuzzled at the teacher's big tits.
“God, I've wanted to touch these,” Brad groaned.
“Umm, suck on my nipples,” the Professor moaned. “Looks like I'll have another stud to have teacher/student conferences with.”
“Definitely,” Brad grinned. “I'll even bring Felicity along.”
“I love those pigtails,” Professor Sommer moaned.
Felicity giggled. “I need to make sure I take one of your classes next semester.”
Maeve groaned into Professor Sommer's pussy when Felicity shoved two fingers into Maeve's tight sheath. The Pixie squeezed down on them, her hips rocking in time to Felicity's rhythm. Maeve tongued the Professor faster as her own bliss swelled.
“Lick her ass,” Brad ordered. “That'd be hot.”
Felicity giggled and Maeve squealed as her hot tongue slid through the Pixie's crack. Felicity rimmed Maeve, pumping her fingers faster into Maeve's pussy as her tongue wiggled into Maeve's bowels.
“Fuck, this is hot,” Professor Sommer moaned. “Keep sucking on my tits. I have such sensitive nipples.”
Maeve shuddered, loving the passion of these Mortals. If only Gunnar was here.
She put her Mortal Champion out of her mind as she concentrated on licking and tonguing the Professor. The room swelled with the scent of hot pussy and roses, the air crackling with energy. Maeve fed the connection between the lovers, hoping it was helping Magda.
Felicity sucked harder at Maeve's ass, her fingers pumping in with vigor. The Pixie shuddered as those wonderful digits curled and caressed her G-spot. The pleasure swelled inside her, threatening to engulf her with bliss.
Maeve let herself be swallowed, feeding the explosion of passion into the lovers.
Her pussy writhed on Felicity's fingers. She screamed her passion into Professor Sommer's sex. The bliss hammered her mind. Maeve's mind swam with rapture. She fed it all into the spell, hoping it was helping.
“She's ready, Brad,” Felicity panted. “Come fuck some Pixie pussy.”
“Yes, fuck me!” Maeve panted.
Brad moved away from the Professor, his hard cock bobbing before him. Felicity ripped her fingers out of Maeve's sheath, and moments later Brad was in her. Maeve arched her back, pushing into his thrusts.
“Fuck me,” Maeve panted, shuddering in bliss.
“God, that's hot,” Felicity purred, moving around to Professor Sommer, her pigtails bobbing. “Now lets me and you have some fun.”
Professor Sommer laughed, grabbing Felicity's pigtail and pulling the girl down for a kiss. Maeve shuddered, bucking into Brad's thrusts. The teacher fingered Felicity hard, pulling the girl down onto the chair's armrest.
“Finger my twat!” Felicity moaned, her hands seizing Maeve's head and shoving the Pixie back between the Professor's thighs.
Maeve returned to tonguing the teacher. The passion swelled into the room as Brad fucked her hard, his balls slapping her clit. Maeve bucked back into his thrusts, shuddering in delight as her bliss blossomed. She was so ready to cum hard.
Everyone was gasping and moaned. Brad hissed filthy words, loving her tight pussy as he pounded her. Professor Sommer and Felicity cheered him on, writhing in bliss. Felicity came first, screaming so loud on the Professor's fingers.
The teacher creamed Maeve's hungry mouth. The Pixie drank down every drop as her own sheath was on fire. Brad's vigorous strokes brought her closer and closer to her explosion. Maeve groaned, pushing back harder.
“Gonna cum,” Brad grunted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I love her pussy.”
“Cream her, honey,” Felicity moaned. “Umm, do it!”
Brad thrust deep inside the Pixie. His cock throbbed. The Pixie shuddered as his hot cum flooded her. She drank in the passion, pushing out the last, massive burst of energy into the lovers as her pussy writhed and convulsed.
Magda didn't wake up.
The spell failed.
“I'm sorry,” Maeve moaned, standing up.
“Thank you for trying,” the Professor said, her face growing fierce. “Are you going to destroy the bitch that did this to my love?”
“Yes,” Maeve nodded.
“Then I want to help.”
Brad and Felicity nodded.
Maeve nodded, her plan forming in her mind. “It'll be dangerous.”
“The bitch needs to pay,” Brad growled. “She tried to kill Felicity.” He hugged his girlfriend. “She tried to make me destroy her.”
“We'll get her back,” Felicity whispered, hugging her boyfriend back. “And it wasn't your fault.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But...”
“Corrigan will pay,” Maeve declared. “We will all make sure she pays.”
~ ~ ~
Corrigan grit her teeth as she helped Gunnar cook their supper. What a menial task.
The Lean Sidhe itched for the day Gunnar fully surrounded to her. It would be such a glorious day. She would make him pay for every act of kindness and insincere profession of love this farce required of her. She hated saying that filthy word.
Love. What a useless lie. An illusion that is so easy to shatter.
Gunnar and Maeve had “loved” each other, their belief walling Gunnar in an impenetrable fortress. And all it took to pull back the illusion of their bond was another lie. If Gunnar truly loved Maeve, he never would have accepted the foul visage Corrigan had conjured.
But humans are incapable of love. At their core they're brutish animals just rutting to satiate their desires. Gunnar's desires burned so hot he couldn't wait to mount Corrigan and fuck her, despite how much he still loved Maeve.
So pathetic.
Her phone rang. She walked into the living room to fetch it while Gunnar gave her a curious look. “It's probably my grandmother,” Corrigan laughed with a lie. She picked up the phone. “Yep. Hey, Grandmother.”
“What?” Evan asked on the other end.
“Oh, no. That sounds serious,” Corrigan loudly said, moving to the bedroom. Gunnar headed back into the kitchen, the idiot giving her privacy.
“Well, it is serious, Mistress.”
“What is serious?” she snapped the moment the bedroom door was safely closed.
“It's Maeve. She showed up at the hospital to see Magda.”
Corrigan's insides seethed. Ice frosted on the bedroom window. “What?”
“She seemed very confident. She told me, Akiko, Felicity, Brad, and Professor Sommer what she really is and who you are. She didn't seem broken.” Evan paused. “Mistress, I think she's plotting against you.”
A great, chilly gust swirled about Corrigan, rustling the sheets on the bed. “That's not possible. The little whore was broken. I saw it in her eyes. Just this afternoon she was fading. She had given up.”
“I...I don't know what to say, Mistress,” Evan winced. “I can't talk long. I'm supposed to be getting roses. She's trying to heal Magda.”
“Fine,” Corrigan hissed. “Maintain your cover. I'll contact you later.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Corrigan hurtled her phone. The plastic shattered against the wall. She let out a frustrated roar, her fist clenching. “I'll bury you in so much ice and snow, Pixie! He's mine! I have him now!”
“Is everything okay,” Gunnar asked, knocking on the door.
The L
ean Sidhe took a deep breath and lied, “Yes, dear.”
Chapter Six: Awkward Reunion
Gunnar opened the door. Despite her protests, Corrigan looked upset, her golden eyes wild and her violet hair bristling. Pieces of plastic strewn across the floor, the cracked screen of her cell phone lying atop his dresser.
“What did your Grandmother say to get you that mad?” Gunnar asked.
“Nothing.” Corrigan's words were ice.
“Right,” Gunnar nodded.
With a passionate roar, Corrigan leaped at him, planting her lips on his. Gunnar grunted in surprise, the force of her body pushing him back a step. He bumped into the half open door, pushing it closed. Her tongue whipped through his mouth.
Gunnar forgot about dinner cooking on the stove. Her kiss shot heat right to his cock.
Her hands rubbed his shirt, brushing the burning welts from her whipping. The pain flared, adding to his lust. Once again, pain and pleasure mixed to create a new, intoxicating brew. Her hands worked up to his shoulders.
She pushed him down to his knees.
He didn't fight it.
Gunnar's face was level with her pussy. She shifted her hips, wiggling with need. Gunnar unsnapped her jeans, eager to give her pleasure. Her zipper rasped, exposing the shaved flesh of her vulva.
“That's it, slave,” she purred. “Eat your Mistress's pussy.”
Gunnar looked up at her. “I'm not in the mood to play that game.”
Corrigan hissed, her golden eyes seeming cat-like for a moment, and seized his hair. “You will do what I say, slave.”
Her grip was surprisingly strong, pulling his face to her pussy. Her wet labia brushed his lips, her intoxicating flavor filling his mouth. He licked, unable to stop himself, swiping his tongue through her folds.
“That's it, slave. Eat your Mistress's pussy.”
You're not my mistress. Gunnar would have spoken aloud, but her pussy smothered his lips. Her hips undulated, smearing her hot flesh across his lips. His tongue brushed her clit. She shuddered and gasped as he pleasured her.
“That's it! Eat me slave. Make your Mistress cum.”
Anger seized Gunnar. He was sick of this game. He didn't want to play right now. He ripped his head away. “No.”