Overview

Lara woke to soft grey morning light and the feel of fingers idly sliding through her hair. She stretched and found her body changed in a way that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with the night before. She felt loose, limber, awake in every limb, and when she opened her eyes to find four pairs of black ones watching her with fond, proprietary amusement, she didn't flinch or reach to cover herself. She only smiled. "Good morning," Ysolde said with a smile. "Our half-blood, properly bloomed. How do you feel?" "Like myself," Lara said, and was surprised to find it the simple truth. "Finally." Ysolde's smile sharpened, pleased, then turned to business. She sat up, luminous in the dawn, and the other three drew round in a loose circle. The air shifted, just slightly. The warmth stayed, but beneath it Lara felt the old weight of fae dealing settle into place. "The bargain." Ysolde tilted her head. "We promised you food, shelter, and safe passage past goblin and troll. The food you've had. The shelter you've slept in. The safe-guiding is the last of it, and that is what you'll owe for." "You said the price was waking my blood," Lara said, frowning. "I thought..." "That was the price of the waking, and you paid it gladly, the whole night through." A few of them giggled. "But the guiding, half-blood, walking you safe through three days of wood that would gladly swallow a girl like you whole? That's a separate matter. Fae deal in pieces. Always read the whole bargain before you thank us for the first part of it." Lara's stomach tightened, but Ysolde raised a calming hand. "Peace. We're feeling generous. You please us, and we don't often say so." She leaned in. "Here is what we ask. A small thing. A fae thing." Her black eyes glittered. "When you reach the village and live your new life, and you will live it, half-blood, hungrily, even... you'll carry our mark, and now and again, when the moon is full and the wood calls, you'll come back to us. It won't be forced, nor will you be bound against your will, you'll simply want to return, and return you will. That's the price of safe passage: a piece of you that stays ours, and returns to us when we call." She let that hang in the air between them for a silent moment, and then smiled. "Agree, and we send you off well-kept. Better than you came." Lara couldn't see much of a downside. Her fae blood had been awakened, she had experienced a sexual awakening that likely eclipsed any other sexual experience any other person had ever had, and they wanted her to return for the same once a month? It sounded like she was winning in every sense of the word. "Stand," Ysolde said, and Lara did, the cloak slipping from her shoulders to pool at her feet. The four fairies circled her, and their hands rose, and the honeyed light gathered between their fingers the way it had at that first touch on the path. They worked together, weaving, and out of the morning air and the gold of their magic they spun something onto her. It settled over her skin like warm water before it took shape. It was a dress, but no farm-girl's linen this time. It was deep forest green, the color of the canopy at dusk, shot through with silvery threads that caught the light like dew. It clung where it should and bared where it dared. The neckline plunged low between her breasts and the dress laced loosely up the sides with cord that looked like braided ivy, leaving teasing strips of bare flesh along her ribs and hips. The skirt fell long but split high up both thighs, made for a body that wanted to be seen. It was the dress of a creature halfway between woman and wild thing... exactly what she now was. "It mends itself," one fairy said, smoothing the fabric over Lara's hip. "Tear it, stain it, lose it in the grass during a tumble... it'll find its way back, clean and whole, by morning." "And it won't let you be cold," said another. "Nor too warm. The wood's weather can't touch you in it." Then Ysolde stepped close and pressed something small and cool into Lara's palm. It was a pendant, a single drop of amber on a fine green-gold chain, and suspended within the amber, impossibly, a tiny living spark of light that pulsed slow as a heartbeat. "A piece of fae-fire," Ysolde said. "Our gift, and our mark. It glows warm when one of our kind is near, brighter the closer they come. It'll warn you of the wild things in these woods... and it'll guide you back to us, when the call comes and you find you want to answer it." Her thumb brushed Lara's cheek. "It will also tell you, half-blood, what others can't hide. Press it to your heart and ask after someone's true nature, and the fire will answer... warm for kin, cold for foe, bright for those who desire you. You'll find that last one glows near constant, now." She fastened it round Lara's throat, the amber settling into the hollow there, the very spot where the first touch had woken her. "So." Ysolde stepped back, and all four regarded their work with open satisfaction. "A girl walked into our wood and a half-fae walks out... dressed for what she is, marked as ours, and warm wherever she goes." Her grin returned, full and sharp and fond. "Do we have your yes, Lara?" It was the first time any of them had used her real name. "Oh, yes! Absolutely yes." Lara's hand flew to the amber at her throat, holding it like something precious. "Thank you, Ysolde. Thank you all." The moment the yes left her lips, the amber pulsed warm against her skin, a single bright throb, like a second heartbeat answering her own, and Lara felt something settle into place deep inside her. It was neither a chain nor a cage, just a thread, fine and golden and unbreakable, running from somewhere beneath her ribs back into the heart of the wood, a way home she hadn't had yesterday. "Witnessed," Ysolde said softly, and the other three echoed it in their chiming voices. "Struck and sealed. You're ours now, half-blood... gently, gladly, and only ever when you wish it." Her smile turned wicked. "Though I think you'll find you wish it more often than you expect." The four of them began to shrink, their woman-sized forms folding back down toward sprite-small, the dawn light catching their wings as they rose into the air around her. Ysolde lingered last and largest, drifting close to press one final kiss to Lara's lips, slow and warm, a promise more than a farewell. "East," she murmured against Lara's mouth. "Follow the path east, and the wood will let you pass. The goblins will smell our mark on you and keep their distance. The troll sleeps by day and if you stick to the path, you'll be past the foothills before he wakes. Three days, and you'll see the village smoke." She drew back, dwindling, her voice going small and silvery again. "But the moon turns full in a fortnight, Lara. Don't be surprised by what you feel when it does." Then she was sprite-small once more, a darting mote of green-gold light, and the four of them spun once around Lara's head in a glittering farewell spiral before streaking off into the deep green dark of the wood. The hollow was suddenly quiet. Lara stood alone in the dawn, but she was not the same girl who'd stumbled in the day before. She looked down at herself: the impossible green dress hugging her body, the high splits baring her thighs, the amber glowing soft and warm at her throat. She felt the wood around her differently now. It was less of a threat and more of a thing she belonged to. She shouldered her old pack, patched linen and a skinning knife, relics of a life that felt a hundred years gone, and stepped out of the hollow onto the path. She would head east, toward the village, toward whatever this new, awakened life had waiting for her. The amber at her throat pulsed once, warm and reassuring, as the first shaft of true morning sun broke through the canopy ahead.

When Ysolde crossed the last layer, Lara's whole world went white at the edges. It began as slowly as everything before it with a single fingertip, tracing the heat of her with the same maddening patience, learning the shape of her need before answering it. Lara's breath hitched and held. She'd touched herself before, alone in the dark, hurried and ashamed, always racing to finish before the guilt could catch her. This was nothing like that. This was unhurried. This was someone taking the time to know her, drawing slow lines through the slick heat of her, mapping every place that made her gasp and filing each one carefully away. Oh! Oh, that's... right there... how does she know... "Shh," Ysolde breathed against her throat, feeling her shake. "I have you. There's no rush. Let it build." And it built. The other three had not stopped, their mouths still at her breasts, hands still roaming her thighs and her belly and the small of her back, a constant overlapping tide of sensation that gave Lara nowhere to hide and nothing to do but feel. Ysolde's fingertip circled, slow as the turn of the seasons, pressure blooming where Lara needed it most, and the ache that had been building all this time began, at last, to gather toward something. It's coming. Whatever it is. I can feel it coming and I'm not... I'm not scared... was she though? No... not of this... I want it, I want it, I... Ysolde quickened, just slightly, but it was enough. The slow, measured patience of before began to fray, not lost, but purposeful now, each movement aimed, the long unhurried teasing giving way to something with intent behind it. Lara's hips moved on their own, chasing, and this time Ysolde let her, met her, pressed closer and firmer and surer with every passing breath. "There," Ysolde whispered, dark and pleased, watching Lara's face come apart. "Don't hold it. You've held everything your whole life. Not this. Let go." The tension drew tighter, tighter, an unbearable sweetness coiling low and deep, every nerve in her body pulled taut toward a single bright point and Lara, surrounded and held and adored, alive in a way she had never once been allowed to be, finally, finally stopped holding on. The coil snapped. Pleasure broke over her like a wave breaking over stone, white and roaring and total, wiping every thought from her mind, every word, every year of careful silence. She cried out, a raw unguarded sound she'd never have let herself make before, and the fairies caught it, caught her, holding her up as her whole body shook and clenched and sang with the force of it. This. This is what I am. This is what I always was, she thought, and as the first wave crested and began, slowly, to ebb... Ysolde did not stop. "Again," she whispered against Lara's ear, her hand never slowing. "We're only just beginning, half-blood. You have so much more to learn." "Yes, but..." Lara gasped, even as her legs shook beneath her. "Wait... a breath, just... just let me..." Her chest heaved, the aftershocks still rolling through her, almost too much, the place Ysolde touched gone exquisitely raw. "I can't... it's too..." And then, as Ysolde's fingers gentled but did not stop, as the wave that should have ended kept cresting, Lara heard herself say the opposite of everything she meant: "Gods... don't stop. Don't stop..." Ysolde laughed low and pleased against her throat. "There's the truth of you. Your mouth says one thing and your body sings another. We'll teach you to stop lying to yourself." They gave her no rest after that. Hands and mouths traded places in a slow rotation, each fairy taking her turn, each one different. Where Ysolde had been patient and deliberate, the next was quick and clever, fingers and tongue working in tandem until Lara broke a second time, sobbing the name she didn't know to call her. The third was slow again, agonizingly so, drawing the climax out so long that Lara begged, actually begged for the release the fairy refused her until she thought she'd come apart entirely. The fourth simply held her and watched her face the whole time, those black eyes drinking in every flicker of pleasure as she pushed Lara over the edge once more. How many is that? She wondered. I've lost count. I've lost... everything, I've lost myself and I don't want it back... She came again, and again, until the orgasms blurred into one long unbroken current, until she was nothing but sensation and gratitude and the wet sounds of her own pleasure echoing through the trees. Each peak should have been the last. but none of them were. Her fae blood, woken and singing, only seemed to want more, the recovery that left her gasping and ready again in moments, the hunger that built back the instant it was sated. And then, when she had been wrung out and filled back up more times than she could count, Ysolde tilted Lara's chin up and looked at her with those bottomless eyes. "You've taken your fill," she murmured. "Now you learn to give. A lover who only receives is no lover at all. Half the gift is in the giving, half-blood... and we mean to teach you all of it." She guided Lara's trembling hand, drew it slowly down the warm luminous curve of her own body, and showed her where to touch, how soft, how slow, reading the fairy's sighs the way Ysolde had read her own. "There," Ysolde breathed, her composure flickering for the first time as Lara's fingers learned her. "There. Quicker now. Feel how I move into your hand? That's me telling you. Listen with your fingers." Lara did. And as the fairy's breath began to hitch under her touch, as she made one of these ancient wanton creatures shiver and arch, something new bloomed in Lara's chest. Pride... power. She wasn't only the one being unwrapped and discovered, she could do the unwrapping too, she could be the reason someone came apart. "Good girl," Ysolde gasped, and this time the praise was breathless, earned, dragged out of her by Lara's own hand. One by one they taught her, and one by one Lara learned them, mouths and hands and the slow generous art of giving until the four of them and the half-blood between them were a tangle of warmth on the forest floor, the dappled light fading toward evening above, the road and the village and the whole frightened life she'd left behind feeling very far away. As the last light bled out of the canopy, Ysolde rose and drew Lara up with her. Lara's legs were unsteady as a new-born colt's, her whole body humming and loose and warm in a way she'd never known a body could be. "Come," Ysolde said softly, lacing their fingers. "You've earned the hollow now. Earned it well." They gathered her scattered things: the cloak, the chemise... but Ysolde only draped the cloak loose around Lara's bare shoulders rather than letting her dress, and Lara found she didn't mind walking the wood half-naked between four luminous creatures, the cool evening air a constant caress against skin that had finally learned what it was for. The fairies glowed faintly in the gathering dark, four soft lights guiding her off the path and down into a sheltered fold of the land where the great roots of an ancient tree arched over a hollow lined with moss soft as goose-down and dry as a hearth. It was warm inside. Warmer than it had any right to be, fae-warm, the air itself thick with that honeyed scent that made Lara's pulse quicken all over again. Berries glistened in a little cleft of root, sweeter than anything she'd ever tasted, and they fed them to her one at a time between slow kisses, the juice on their lips, her appetite for food and for them tangling together until she couldn't tell hunger from hunger... and then the lessons resumed. All through the night, Lara learned. She lost the last of her shyness somewhere in those dark warm hours, learned to ask for what she wanted without the words sticking in her throat, learned to take as boldly as she gave, learned the particular sounds each of her four teachers made and how to chase them. She was tireless in a way that astonished even her; the fae blood in her veins burned bright and hungry, and every time she thought herself spent she found herself wanting again within minutes, reaching, eager, alive. They reveled in her. They told her so, murmured against her skin how rare it was to find one of their watered-down kin so willing to bloom, how most fought the door even after they'd opened it, how Lara had simply walked through with her arms open. She glowed under the praise the way she glowed under their hands. It was only when the first grey hint of dawn crept down into the hollow that the wanting in her finally, gently ebbed, not from exhaustion of the spirit, but the simple need of a mortal body for rest. Lara's eyes grew heavy. Her movements slowed. And Ysolde, reading her the way she'd taught Lara to read others, drew her down into the moss and gathered her close. "Sleep now, half-blood," she breathed against Lara's hair. "You've learned more in one night than most learn in a lifetime. Rest. We'll keep you." The other three settled around her, a nest of warmth, wings folding soft over her like blankets. And as Lara drifted toward sleep, safe, spent, profoundly content, and more herself than she had ever been, she felt their hands continue to move over her, gentle now, idle, possessive, not waking her, just keeping her, as they'd promised. They traced slow lazy lines along her hip, her shoulder, the curve of her waist, as though they could not quite bear to stop touching the thing they'd unlocked. She fell asleep to the feel of it, smiling, the frightened farm girl who'd stepped into the woods entirely gone, and something new and warm and wanton sleeping in her place.

The first lace gave way, then the second, and the dark-haired fairy looked up over Lara's shoulder and gave the smallest nod. That was all it took. The other three moved and suddenly Lara was surrounded, a warmth on every side, luminous skin and the soft flutter of wings, hands settling on her all at once. She gasped at the sheer overwhelm of it, the impossibility of tracking so many sensations at once, and gave up trying. She simply let it wash over her. A pair of hands found the loosened chemise at her shoulders and drew it down, baring her by slow degrees while another pair smoothed up the length of her spine, fingertips counting each notch of it. A third set traced the dip of her waist, her hips, the soft curve of her belly, learning her like a map they meant to memorize. This touch, Lara thought dizzily as a thumb circled the small of her back. Oh... and that one... Each touch landed like the first touch she'd ever felt. She had no frame of reference for any of it, no memory to compare it to, and so every brush of fingers was pure discovery, a place on her body she'd never known could feel like that, lighting up under a stranger's hand.... the hollow behind her knee, the inside of her wrist where a fairy pressed her lips and Lara's whole arm broke out in shivers, the nape of her neck where someone swept her hair aside and breathed warm against her skin. I didn't know. I didn't know I could feel anything there. I didn't know there was so much of me. The chemise slipped to her waist, then past her hips, then to the forest floor with the cloak, and Lara stood bare in the dappled green light, bare and surrounded and adored, four pairs of hands moving over her in slow overlapping waves. She should have been cold, but she wasn't. The warmth poured off them and into her, and she felt herself swaying, held up by the press of bodies on every side. The dark-haired leader caught her face in both hands and kissed her again, deep, slow, and claiming, while behind her another mouth pressed to the curve of her shoulder, and a third grazed the line of her spine, and somewhere a pair of hands skimmed up her ribs with agonizing patience. This is what I locked away... all of it. How did I live without... how did I ever... She broke the kiss with a gasp, head falling back against the shoulder of the fairy behind her, and the leader smiled and trailed her lips down to Lara's throat. "Ah..." the fairy whispered against Lara's racing pulse. "Every inch of you waking up. Tell us, half-blood, what does it feel like, finally?" Lara's voice came out wrecked and wondering, barely a whisper. "Like... I'm being born." The fairies sighed their pleasure all around her, and their hands began to wander lower and Lara learned the meaning of slow. The dark-haired leader was the first to find her breasts, but 'find' was too plain a word for what she did. Her palms ghosted up Lara's ribs and simply cupped her, no more than that, holding the weight of her without moving, letting Lara feel the warmth of those hands soak in. Lara's breath caught and held, her whole body straining toward something the fairy refused to give yet. Move, she thought desperately. Please, please move... But the fairy didn't. She held, and held, until Lara was trembling with the anticipation alone, and only then, when Lara had nearly broken, did her thumbs begin to drift, tracing slow arcs across skin that had never been touched this way. Outward, inward, circling closer to the peaks that ached for attention and then retreating, again and again, until Lara made a sound of pure wanting and arched into her hands. "Yes," the fairy breathed against her. "Feel how much you want it. That's the whole lesson, half-blood. The wanting." Behind her, hands smoothed around her sides to join the first, and now there were fingers grazing her from every angle, light as moth-wings, maddening, tracing the curve of her without ever giving her the firm touch she craved. One fingertip, at last, brushed across a stiffened peak, and Lara cried out, the sensation lancing straight down through her belly to the heat building between her thighs. Oh gods... just that... just one finger and I... Then mouths joined the hands. The dark-haired fairy bent her head and replaced one fingertip with the warm, wet heat of her lips, slow and reverent, drawing a soft kiss across the very peak of her and Lara's knees gave out entirely. The fairies behind her caught her, bore her weight, held her up like an offering as the leader's mouth worked her with that same unhurried patience, every movement drawn out to its fullest length. A second mouth found her other breast. A third pressed kisses down the center of her chest, the flat of her stomach, mapping the soft plane of her belly. Hands roamed her thighs, her hips, the curve of her backside, fingertips grazing and circling and slowly, slowly drawing inward. Lara had no thoughts left that resembled words. There was only sensation, layered and overlapping, building wave on wave, and a vast astonished gratitude rising up beneath it. I almost died not knowing this. I almost lived my whole life and died never once feeling... The thought dissolved as a hand drifted to the inside of her thigh and stopped there, fingertips a feather's breadth from the heat of her, waiting. The dark-haired fairy lifted her head, lips wet, eyes black and bottomless and kind. "The last layer of all," she said. "We don't cross it until you ask, out loud, by name." Lara, shaking, surrounded, more alive than she had ever been, opened her eyes. Her lips parted, and she realized through the haze of heat and trembling want that she didn't know her name. She had given herself over to these creatures, let them strip away a lifetime of locked-away longing, and she didn't even know what to call the one whose mouth had just unmade her. "I don't..." she gasped. "I don't know your name. Please, tell me. I want to ask you by name. I want to know who's... who's teaching me." Something flickered across the dark-haired fairy's face, a hint of surprise, and then a slow, genuine pleasure, warmer than any of her grins before. Names had weight in the fae world. To ask for one was no small thing. To give one, smaller still. "Clever half-blood," she said, brushing a strand of damp hair from Lara's flushed cheek. "Most never think to ask, they just take what we offer and never wonder who's giving it." Her thumb traced Lara's lower lip. "Ysolde. That's the name I'll wear for you. Hold it gently. Don't go spending it where it isn't wanted." "Ysolde," Lara breathed and the name felt like honey on her tongue, like it belonged there. The fairy Ysolde shivered to hear it in her mouth, and the hand resting high on Lara's inner thigh pressed a fraction closer. "Now," Ysolde said, voice gone low and dark and patient, "ask." Lara swallowed. Her whole body sang with the ache of waiting, every nerve drawn taut, surrounded by warmth and wanting and the strange new freedom of a self she'd never been allowed to meet. She found she wasn't afraid of the words. For the first time in her life, she wanted something openly, fully, with no shame chasing the wanting away. So she said it plainly, looking into those bottomless black eyes. "Ysolde," she whispered, trembling, alight, alive. "Touch me. Please. Don't stop this time. I want to feel all of it. I want you to be the one who shows me." Ysolde smiled, slow and pleased, and devastatingly tender. "As you wish," she said softly, and she crossed the last layer.

Lara melted, not because the magic made her, she understood that now, in the warm golden clarity blooming through her body. The fae hadn't taken anything from her. They'd given something back. The door they'd opened only led to a room that had always been hers, locked away by a lifetime of cold nights and her mother's careful silences, and standing on the threshold of it now, breathless and flushed and wanting, Lara made her choice with both eyes open. She turned her cheek into the dark-haired fairy's palm and pressed a kiss to the center of it. "Show me," she whispered. "All of it. I'm ready." The fairy's grin softened into something hungrier. "Good girl," she said like a purr, and the words sent a fresh shiver curling down Lara's spine, pooling low and hot in her belly. "She learns." The other three drew in close, a circle of warm luminous skin and fluttering wings, and Lara felt hands settle on her, at her waist, her shoulders, smoothing up the curve of her back. Gentle, patient, teaching hands. "First," the leader murmured, fingers finding the laces of Lara's bodice, "we let you breathe." The cord pulled loose. The constraint that had pressed against her all day eased, and Lara gasped as cool forest air met newly-bared skin, every nerve singing awake under the attention of four sets of bottomless black eyes. "There she is," one breathed reverently. Lara had never in her life been looked at like this, like something wanted, something worth unwrapping slowly, and the strange thing, the wonderful thing, was that she didn't shrink from it. She leaned in. The shame she'd braced for never came, only heat, hunger, and a dizzying sense of finally, finally belonging somewhere. The dark-haired fairy tilted Lara's chin up. "The first lesson," she said, lips a breath from Lara's own, "is that you're allowed to want this. Say it." Lara breathed. "I want this," she said, in a barely audible whisper. "Again." "I want this." Louder this time, firmer. The fairy kissed her then, a soft press of lips against her own, but slowly, tenderly, the kiss deepened, and Lara's whole world narrowed to the press of those lips against hers. Oh. That was the only thought she could form at first, a small, stunned syllable, lost somewhere behind her ribs. Oh, so this is what it's like. She'd kissed exactly one boy in her life, a fumbling thing behind the goat shed when she was sixteen, all clacked teeth and panic. This was nothing like that. This was slow. The dark-haired fairy kissed her the way honey pours, unhurried, inevitable, coating every part of her it touched. There was no rush in her at all, and that patience undid Lara more than any urgency could have. A warm hand cradled the back of her neck, fingers threading up into her hair, holding her just so, and Lara felt herself make a sound she'd never made before, a soft, helpless little hum into the fairy's mouth. I made that sound. That was me. She'd spent her whole life keeping quiet... quiet on the farm, quiet in her grief, quiet in the dark when her own hands wandered and shame chased the pleasure away before it could finish blooming. But here, now, the sound had simply escaped her, and instead of shame there was only the fairy's answering murmur of approval, a low pleased rumble against her lips that told her, yes, more of that, give me more of that. The fairy's tongue traced the seam of her mouth, asking, and Lara opened to her without thinking, and that... yes, that. Heat lanced down through the center of her, throat to belly to the ache between her thighs, and her knees actually buckled. The hand in her hair tightened, holding her up, and the dark-haired fairy laughed softly into the kiss, not cruel, not now, just delighted. "Easy," she breathed against Lara's mouth, pulling back just far enough that their lips still brushed when she spoke. "We have all the time you need. There's no hurry here, half-blood. No one's coming. Nothing to do but feel." The words triggered something deep. Nothing to do but feel. Lara's entire life had been doing... milking, mending, burying, surviving. She had never once in twenty years been told she could simply stop and feel, and that the feeling was allowed. Her eyes stung with something that wasn't quite arousal and wasn't quite grief, and the fairy must have seen it, because she smoothed a thumb across Lara's cheekbone with surprising tenderness. "I know," she murmured. "I know. Let it go. All of it. You don't have to hold anything anymore." And Lara, trembling, let herself be kissed again. This time the fairy's free hand began to move... down the line of her throat, slow as dripping wax, fingertips reading her like something precious. Across the wing of her collarbone... down, over the loosened bodice, to the bare swell of her chest where the laces had fallen open. The touch wasn't grasping. It grazed, feather-light, tracing the upper curve of her breast in a slow half-circle, and Lara's breath stuttered into nothing. Why does that... why does barely anything feel like everything? Her skin had woken, just as they'd promised. Every nerve stood at attention, and the lightest brush of a fingertip sent ripples of sensation cascading outward, overlapping, building. She found herself arching, pressing up into a touch that retreated the instant she chased it, the fairy denying her with a knowing little smile. "Slow," the fairy reminded her, voice like dark silk. "We're not skipping a single page of this lesson. You've waited your whole life. What's a few moments more?" She's right. I've waited my whole life. I can wait. I want to wait. I want to feel every... The fairy's fingertip lingered at the edge of Lara's loosened bodice, and there it stopped. "Patience," she breathed, and withdrew her hand entirely. Lara nearly sobbed at the loss. No... come back, please... she thought, but the dark-haired fairy only smiled and took a slow step back, her black eyes traveling down the length of Lara's body with frank, unhurried appraisal, as if she had all the centuries of the wood to look her fill. "You're going to learn something, half-blood," she said. "The wanting is the gift. The ache before. The waiting. Most rush past it like it's a toll to be paid. We're going to live in it." She circled, slow, a predator with no need to hurry because the prey had already surrendered. Lara felt the heat of the other three at her back, watching, waiting, a warm presence that should have made her shy and instead made her bold. Four sets of eyes on her bare skin, and she didn't cover herself. She let them look. I let them look. And I like that they're looking. Is this who I am? Is this who I've always been, under all of it? Her thoughts were a mix of awe and dawning awareness. "The first layer," the fairy murmured, coming round to face her again, "is already gone." Her gaze dropped to the loosened laces, the bodice gaping open over the chemise beneath. "But there are so many more. Layers of cloth. Layers of you. We'll take them one at a time." She reached out and, with a single finger, hooked the shoulder of Lara's cloak. The heavy wool slid down her arm, slow and deliberate, and pooled at her feet with a soft whump of fabric. It was just her cloak, nothing more, and yet the loss of it left Lara feeling stripped already, the cool forest air finding her bared shoulders, raising gooseflesh that the fairy traced with one fingertip. "There," she purred. "Cold?" Lara nodded, trembling. "Good. The cold makes the warm sweeter." The fairy leaned in and pressed her lips, not to Lara's mouth this time, but to the curve of her bared shoulder, a single kiss, soft and lingering, there and then gone. Lara's breath left her in a shudder. One kiss. One. And I feel it everywhere. The fairy's mouth moved a hair's breadth at a time along the slope of her shoulder toward her throat. Each kiss was its own small eternity, set down with the care of someone painting. Lara's hands hung useless at her sides, then rose, fluttering, unsure, and the fairy caught one without breaking her slow ascent, lacing their fingers together, anchoring her. She's holding my hand. Why does that make my chest ache more than anything else? Because no one had touched her with tenderness in years. Because she had been alone, so completely alone, and now there were warm hands and warm mouths and warm eyes and someone holding on to her like she was worth holding. The pleasure and the loneliness braided together until Lara couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, and she let out a small broken sound that was half a moan and half a sob. The fairy paused at the hollow of her throat. Looked up. Read everything written on Lara's flushed, overwhelmed face. "There," she whispered. "That's the door opening all the way. Don't fight it. Don't hold a single thing back." Her free hand rose to the top lace of the chemise, the last real layer between Lara and the air. "Shall I?" Lara's heart hammered. Her whole body sang with the ache, the waiting, the wanting they'd promised would become a gift. She swallowed hard. "Yes," she breathed. "Please." The fairy's smile was the slowest thing of all as she drew the first lace loose.

Lara was insatiably curious. Could it be true? Was she part fae? She knew fairies were tricksters, knew they took more than they gave, and what they gave was never what you thought you were getting, but... She spoke before thinking, words spinning directly out into the world. "What will it… feel like? What will it do to me?" She was breathless and excited, hopeful but frightened. She remembered all the stories of fairies... but still... The fairy's black eyes softened, and her voice dropped to something almost tender... almost... as the golden light hovered warm against Lara's throat. "What will it feel like?" she echoed, and the other three sighed in unison, a sound like wind through reeds. "Like the first warm day after a long winter. Like sinking into a bath drawn just right. It starts here..." the fingertip drifted, not quite touching, tracing the air down the line of Lara's throat to the swell of her chest. "It starts as heat, blooming slow, spreading out through every part of you that's been cold and asleep." "Your skin will wake up," another whispered, circling behind her. "Every inch of it. You'll feel the breeze like a lover's breath. The brush of your own dress will make you shiver." Lara's breath hitched. She could already feel it, or imagined she could, a flush crawling up from her collar, a tightness low in her belly she had no name for, an ache she'd only ever felt in the dark, alone, half-ashamed. "What will it do?" The leader smiled, sweet and terrible. "It will unlock what you already are, underneath. It strips away the fear, the shame, all that human knotting-up. You'll want things, pretty thing. You'll want them openly, and the wanting won't frighten you anymore... it'll feel like coming home." "It won't change your face," one promised. "Won't change your healing," said another. "Only opens the door," the leader breathed, "to the part of you that blooms. The part that draws every eye... and welcomes it." She paused, and a flicker of that cruelty glinted through. "The stories are true, half-blood. Fae bargains always cost. This one will make you... hungrier... than you've ever been. Hungry for touch... for more. Some would call that the price. You might call it the gift." Her grin returned, full and sharp. "We won't lie and say you'll be the same after. You won't. But you'll be happy. And you'll be warm. And you'll be fed." The light pulsed, patient, a hairsbreadth from her skin. "So. Knowing all of it now... do you still say yes?" Lara thought about it. If it was just going to make her more... her... then what could she lose? "If it’s my true nature… if you’re not lying about that, then... yes. But you must stay with me until it’s over. Be my teacher, show me what it means, how it works." She’d heard stories of fae growing to human size and taking human lovers… if they were going to awaken what it seems like they intended to awaken, she wanted them to show her how to... be like that. What to do. The fairy's grin turned radiant, triumphant, even, and the golden light flared bright between them. "Yes," she breathed, and all four chorused it, a shivering harmony that seemed to ripple through the trees themselves. "She says yes!" "And asks us to stay," another marveled, delighted. "To teach her. Oh, she's a clever one..." "A greedy one," purred the third, and it sounded like the highest praise. "Then it's struck," the leader declared. "Witnessed by root and branch and the old dark between. A teacher you asked for, and a teacher you'll have." She pressed her glowing fingertip to the hollow of Lara's throat. The touch was tiny, no larger than a raindrop, but the heat that poured from it was anything but. It sank beneath her skin like sunlight through water, spreading down her chest, blooming outward in slow golden waves. Lara gasped, her knees going soft, her hands flying out to catch herself against the nearest tree as warmth unfurled through every cold and sleeping part of her. It was exactly as they'd promised. Her skin woke. The brush of her cloak against her shoulders sent a shiver racing down her spine. The breeze found the bare skin of her throat and she felt it like fingertips. Her bodice suddenly seemed too tight, the laces an unbearable constraint against a chest that rose and fell faster with every breath. ...and the fairies were growing. It happened the way frost melts, slowly at first, gradual, then all at once. The little glittering shapes stretched and unfolded, gossamer wings widening, tiny limbs lengthening, until four lithe figures stood in the dappled light where the sprites had hovered. They were woman-shaped now, woman-sized, their skin faintly luminous and dusted with that same gold, their black eyes bottomless, their grins unchanged. The leader was the tallest, dark-haired, wild, and beautiful in a way that made Lara's breath stutter. She reached out with a full-sized hand now and cupped Lara's flushed cheek. "Easy, half-blood," she murmured, voice low and rich where before it had been a sparrow's chirp. "The door is open. Feel it? That ache? That's the truth of you, waking up at last." Her thumb traced Lara's lower lip. "Now. Let your teachers show you what it's for." ...and Lara melted.

Author's Note: This is some really derivative stuff I'm writing right now, trying to make the words cooperate with my intent. I'm trying to make it sexy in an interesting way, but I don't know how it's going to turn out. So... read at your own risk, I guess. - - - - - - - - - - - The morning Lara left, the sky was the color of old bruises with grey clouds bleeding into the pale promise of dawn. She'd buried her mother beneath the crooked oak three weeks past, and the last of the goats had died two days ago, its body slick with the same black-veined sickness that had taken the rest. Nothing held her to the farm now but ghosts. She shouldered the worn leather pack that contained everything she owned in the world: a change of clothes, her mother's silver hand mirror, half a loaf of bread, some dried apples, a waterskin, and the small skinning knife strapped to her thigh beneath her skirt. It wasn't much against three days of wilderness, but she was strong from a life of labor, and she healed fast. She'd always healed fast. Cuts closed in hours, bruises faded by morning. Her mother had called it a blessing and never explained it further. The dirt road wound east, swallowed quickly by the treeline. The forest stood waiting... ancient, dense, and far too quiet. Lara pulled her cloak tighter over her simple linen dress, the bodice laced snug over a chest that strained the fabric no matter how she dressed it down. She'd learned long ago that there was no hiding the way she was made. Even alone, the woods seemed to notice her. She swallowed her fear, whispered a prayer to gods she wasn't sure listened, and stepped beneath the canopy. The light dimmed. The road narrowed to a footpath. She walked into the shade of the forest, the sunlight pastures soon only a memory beyond the constant green and tree trunks. She went on for at least an hour, her nerves easing as the birds sang all around and small things scurried through undergrowth. But then, somewhere deeper in, a branch snapped. It was too deliberate to be the wind, too heavy to have been made by a chipmunk or squirrel. Lara forced her legs to keep moving, one laced boot after another, telling herself it was a deer... just a deer. They spooked easy and crashed off through the underbrush. That was all this was. But the forest didn't return to its rustling calm. It stayed quiet, the wrong kind of quiet, where the birds have gone silent because something larger has entered their world. Her senses strained. Every snap of a twig beneath her own feet made her flinch. From the corner of her eye she caught movement, low to the ground, off to her right, keeping pace just beyond the ferns. Then it was gone. Then it was to her left. Whatever it was, there was more than one, and they were circling. A giggle drifted through the trees, high, light, and almost musical, but with a cruel edge underneath it, like children who'd learned a game that wasn't kind. Then a voice, no bigger than a sparrow's, sing-songed from somewhere above her... "Pretty thing, pretty thing, walking all alone... smells like flowers and spring, smells like fae bone." A tiny shape darted across the path ahead. It was no taller than her forearm, with gossamer wings that caught the dim light in flashes of green and gold... a fairy. But not the gentle storybook kind her mother had hummed about. Its grin was too wide, its eyes too black, and three more flickered into view behind it, hovering at the height of her face, studying her the way a cat studies a wounded bird. "She's one of ours, almost," one buzzed, drifting close enough that Lara could feel the flutter of its wings against her cheek. "Half-blood. Watered down. But oh, she'll bloom if we play with her right..." The path ahead was blocked by their dancing little bodies. The path behind felt suddenly very far away. Panic gripped Lara's heart like a fist of ice, but the words of the fairy made a question form in her mind. She planted her feet, summoning more courage than she felt, and fixed the nearest fairy with a hard stare. "What do you mean, half-blood? I'm human." Her voice wavered only a little. "And I've no time to play games, so unless you've food and shelter for me, I'll be on my way." The fairies erupted into peals of laughter, tumbling through the air like windblown petals, clutching their tiny sides. "*Human!*" one shrieked with delight, spinning a loop. "She thinks she's human!" "Smells the truth right off her skin," another buzzed, darting in to hover beneath her jaw, inhaling deep through a button nose. "Fae in the blood, fae in the marrow. Diluted, oh yes, three or four generations down... but it's there. It's why you heal, isn't it, pretty thing? Cut yourself and watch it close? Mother never told you why?" Lara was surprised by that. How could they know that? Her hand drifted unconsciously toward the faint, long-faded scar on her forearm, a gash from a scythe at twelve that should have crippled her, gone by supper. The first fairy, the boldest, alighted on a low branch at eye level and folded her gossamer wings prim against her back. Her grin sharpened. "Food and shelter, she says. Bold thing. Demanding thing." She tilted her head. "We've both, as it happens. A warm hollow, dry and soft, and berries sweeter than anything that grows in your dull dirt. We'll guide you there, safe from the goblins that prowl these paths and the troll that haunts the foothills." The other three giggled behind their hands. "But fae don't give gifts, little half-blood," she purred. "We trade. Everything in these woods has a price. You'll want to hear ours before you take a single berry from our hands." She leaned forward, black eyes glittering. "Shall we name it?" "Aye," Lara said, matter of fact. "Name your price, fairy." The fairy's grin split wider, far too wide for so small a face, revealing a row of tiny needle-sharp teeth. "Oh, she's eager," she sang, and her three sisters drifted closer, ringing Lara in a slow, lazy orbit. "Brave half-blood. Hungry half-blood. Listen well, then, and we'll deal fair. Fae always deal fair, even when we deal cruel." She rose from the branch and hovered before Lara's nose, close enough that the heat of her tiny body warmed the tip of it. "The hollow, the berries, safe-guiding you past goblins and troll... these are all yours. And in trade..." A long, theatrical pause. The forest seemed to lean in to listen. "...you let us wake what's sleeping in your blood. Just a touch. Just a taste. A little fae magic, drawn up to the surface where it belongs, instead of buried under all that dull human clay." "It won't hurt," another purred from behind her ear. "It'll feel good. Better than good. You've never felt anything like it, locked up tight on that lonely little farm. We'll open you up like a flower in the sun." "You'll be warmer," the third whispered. "Softer," breathed the fourth. "More yourself," the leader finished, eyes glittering black. "The self your mother was so afraid of she never spoke its name." A bead of golden light gathered at the fairy's fingertip, pulsing, sweet-smelling, like honey and warm skin and something headier underneath that made Lara's breath go shallow and her cheeks flush without her permission. "One touch," the fairy coaxed, drifting that glowing fingertip toward the bare skin of Lara's throat, the hollow above her laced bodice. "And the bargain is struck. Say yes, pretty thing." The light hovered a hairsbreadth from her skin, waiting. Lara held her breath. Dare she trust these fairies?

It's taken a while!

Finally a new one!

THE CHALLENGE It's been a few months since I posted a new challenge. Sorry, folks! Things went sideways for a bit, but I'm back on track now. For this challenge, tell us about a steamy encounter somewhere they definitely shouldn’t be doing it. The only constraint is that it has to be someplace public! Deadline Midnight (EST) Saturday 13 Jun, 2026 Limits 1 entry per person keep it around 2,000 words, no penalty for going a little over but remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits

No words limit, do not give actual name but instead name them by what they wearing or your personal impression, it's either about start of the race or after the race, you may add sexual reference or full scale NSFW scene if you wish. Do @ me if the picture link is broken.

Just One Night She woke slowly, the kind of waking that slowly brought the quiet realization that this wasn’t her bed. Again. The sheets smelled like him, clean cotton and something woodsy, maybe cedar or that cologne she once teased him for using too sparingly. Her legs were tangled in his, and the faint weight of his arm curved around her waist. Sunlight sliced through the curtains and painted soft shadows across the room. She didn’t need to look around to know where she was. She knew this pillow, this mattress, that tiny, chipped mug with something green half-clinging to life on his windowsill. She was back. Again. Goddammit. It had started on New Year’s Eve. A glittering party, too much wine, and the monolith of that stupid moment at midnight when everyone turned to someone, everyone, towering over her. She knew she'd be clutching her champagne flute with a forced smile as everyone else around her found somebody. But with only twenty minutes to go, he’d found her, laughing, eyes bright. “Guess it’s just us,” he’d said, and she’d laughed too. “You realize we’re going to have to kiss someone at midnight, right?” She told him, “don’t look at me like I’m your charity case.” He had laughed. “Please. You’d be the upgrade.” She’d told herself it was harmless. They flirted like that all the time, ever since that late night when they shared a cab home. He was safe, smart, funny, and clearly not into her. That made it easy, which made it fun. But one joke turned into a another and then a second drink, which turned into teasing banter and flirty smiles that weren’t serious… until suddenly they were. “I’m serious,” he’d said, leaning just a little closer. “You’re kind of amazing.” She had raised her brow, a classic gesture, half denial, half flirting. “You’ve had three glasses of cheap champagne.” “And I stand by my drunken, overly romantic opinion.” She should have walked away. She should have laughed and joined everyone on the dance floor, but instead she’d said, “Well, if I’m amazing… maybe I should be the one choosing you.” He froze, and something in his smile turned. “I wish you would.” That had been the moment, the tightrope between joking and real, and she had stepped directly into it. But she had been laughing, and flushed, and suddenly warm all over, and when the countdown hit ten and he reached for her, she didn’t stop him. It felt less like falling and more like surrendering to something that had always been there, just waiting for the right midnight. She didn't remember how they had ended up at his apartment. Something about just one night, and no need to be alone, and damned if she hadn't wanted him more in that moment than anything else. They had stumbled through his door like a cliché, still dressed for the party, barely making it to the bedroom. It had been incredible. Not just good, not just satisfying, but the kind of sex that ruins you a little for everyone else. He’d been responsive, generous, and devastatingly intuitive. She had never felt so... wanted, so seen. And in the morning, before he stirred, she’d slipped out like a thief, her heels in hand and shame chasing her down the stairs. One night, she had reminded herself. That’s all it was. But then she’d laid awake every night, thinking of him, remembering that night, touching herself and never coming close to how she felt with him. She’d seen him at work, because of course they worked in the same damn building. He’d given her time and distance, just a simple text. I won’t push but if you ever want to talk or just want to come back I’ll be here. No questions, no pressure. Of course she had wanted to reply, but she didn’t, at least not right away. But eventually she did… just a friendly acknowledgement. It would have been rude to leave his message unanswered. That was all it took to start a string of texts that were supposed to be friendly but always ended with ellipses, unspoken somethings. Soon there were late-night phone calls when she couldn’t sleep. She resisted, she really did... until she didn’t. That night she sent a curious you up? that turned into can I come over? And now, two weeks later, she was waking up in his bed again, his arm around her like it belonged there. She closed her eyes and let herself feel the quiet ache of wanting. It wasn’t just the sex, though yes, the sex was still incredible, unfairly so, but it was everything else. The way he looked at her like he knew what she was thinking. The easy laughter. The stillness when he just listened. It was too much. Is this love? she wondered, or is it just that he’s the best thing I’ve had in a long time? She didn’t know. But when he stirred beside her, sleepy and warm and already smiling against her skin, she didn’t get up and sneak out. She snuggled back into him and let herself think, at least for a moment, that maybe this might be something after all.

Evening loom over the city. The excitement of new year has long gone, as quick as it comes. The rush hour on the streets once again fill the urban sighting, reminding us where we belong. The hurried pedestrian come in an out of subway, eager to reach their homes, and some, the embrace of a family. Skies remain dull, as if it reflects on the urban living beneath. But it doesn’t compare to a lady who walk somewhat in slow pace amidst rushing pedestrian. Lanna is in deep thought. Not about her work, it was alright. Not about dinner either, someone already on it at home. The concern that bother her mind Is the very person who cook the dinner tonight. Mieli. Since she moving in with her, she handle most of the chore at her place. Laundry? Mieli got it covered. Cooking? Say any menu and she would try her best to get it ready on the table, piping hot. Lanna told her there’s no need for that but Mieli insist that she feel restless if she not doing anything at home. Though Lanna appreciate the girl resourcefulness, she didn’t let her move in with her just to play maid. So a week before new year, Lanna decide that she plan to put actual spark in their new relationship. The problem is, Lanna is somewhat stiff for a partner and Mieli is pretty much her yes-woman; she never objects or throw suggestion that would sounds against her idea. But Lanna want this to work. But now a week has passed, and today mark the middle of the January on calendar, yet she still not manages to put more color in their relationship. It’s annoying, should she give up? But she already promised Mieli and the girl told her she wants to see where this would go. As cringe as it can get, she just can’t bear the sight of those hopeful eyes become dull with disappointment. Mieli just had this aura about her. Not that Mieli is a pushover let alone spoiled person mind you. “I should’ve ask her out” she said. But where to? They already visit pretty much dating spot in this city. Lanna schedule is pretty much tight this month so going away from town is not the option on the table right now. “Maybe…I should make dinner for her this time?” She thought but the last time she cooks, it only inconvenience Mieli “I almost burn her tongue with that pasta…” Lanna grumbled. Before she know it, she is already in front of her apartment door. She knocked in which Mieli open the door, greeting her with the same smile, same familiarity…yet always gives different kind of warmth inside. Lanna just walk past her and laid on the couch, sighing as she throws her bag away. “Long day at work?” Mieli said. “Same as always...different days…” Lanna said. Mieli smiled and ask if she want to eat something specific. “I thought you already made one” Lanna said. Mieli sheepishly replied, “usually yes, but maybe this year, I should let you choose rather than shoot in the blind”. Lanna tilt her head, “what gives? It’s not like you ever burn the kitchen or make any weird food since you move in”. Mieli chuckled before she replied, “I decide to play as full time housewife for you this year”. Lanna went quiet. Housewives? Was that her resolution? Before Lanna ask if Mieli is teasing her, the girl speak up first. “I admit; it was a challenge. Usually I would wake up early to prepare breakfast and bath, now I tried to wake at same time as you do. Oh and I did think about calling you while at work but…I got cold feet because I might bother you”. She then added, “I even had trouble on how should I greet you when you come home. I mean, no way a housewife would greet their lover with a deep bow like a servant”. Lanna wasn’t sure how to put this. “Mieli, isn’t it too much of a stretch for a new year resolution? You can just settle in with learning new recipe or getting a better gig to pay our rent” she told the girl. Mieli sighed, “after hearing your resolution, I decide to make it my goal too. Don’t get me wrong, I like how things are between us. But…is it weird if I want us to be more…bold?”. Now that got Lanna thinking. For once, Mieli act without permission. Usually she always throw a thought to Lanna. There’s even at one point she ask Lanna if she could go ahead to sleep before her. Regardless, Lanna is now aware she’s not alone with the thought of how to make more spark in their relationship. Funny because turn out, they both had trouble fulfilling it. Since Lanna don't have any suggestion in mind, she decide to give Mieli some slack. “We could” Lanna said “maybe this is the spark we’re looking for” but then she added, “what if we jinx it?" Mieli smile remain etched to her face, “If it were, I’m sure it’s for a good reason”. Lanna couldn't argue with that, "Then let's make it count" As gentle embrace wrapped around Lanna, Mieli voice welcome her in new form of love. “Thank you. And welcome home, darling…”

...and Challenge 48 is posted!

THE CHALLENGE It's a little late, so maybe making resolutions and New Year's parties are past us, but... what about trying to keep the resolution two weeks in? What about fallout from the party? the unintended kiss? the celebration that turned far more intimate than planned? For this challenge, write about a character dealing with something leftover from New Year's Eve. Perhaps they made a resolution they're having trouble keeping. Perhaps a kiss, promise, or dare took them somewhere they never thought they'd go and now they're weighing their plans vs. this new reality. Perhaps they made a bet and now they have to pay up. Limitless possibilities... Deadline Midnight (EST) Saturday 24 Jan, 2026 Limits 1 entry per person keep it around 2,000 words, no penalty for going a little over but remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits

The poll is up for Challenge 47!

I know I should've had something done sooner, especially considering the much more generous time frame, but I have an actual excuse this time. I had 3 different ideas I was juggling around in my head for about 2 weeks now, but because I've had to divide my focus on the extreme levels of card and rank grinding I have to do for Persona 2 Innocent Sin and my ever cripplingly low self-esteem put it on the bench for a while. However, with the time limit fast approaching (and me forcing myself to get off my lazy ass and get something written before the last minute like always), here we are. Will I ever say what those other ideas I was juggling around were? Probably not. They weren't all that interesting, anyway, at least in my opinion. As a side note, I do know that smut isn't required this time. I guess one could argue I'm still using the "using it as practice" excuse or you could also argue I'm making up for avoiding the smutty ideas from last year's Kinktoberfest like they were a nasty virus or something. Also, procrastination station happened yet again AND I went over the 2k word limit. As always, I had to rush, so I finished at...about 2 PM EST. I am going to bedge now. Good night. Drew had hoped to finally relax after finishing his latest mission. Even though it was almost Christmas, all he wanted to do was sleep in for a couple of days and let the holiday pass him by. However, when he returned to his apartment... "What the hell is this?" the man said to himself. Sitting in the center of his living room was a massive present, carefully wrapped up with bright red wrapping paper and tied with a massive pink ribbon. He knew that he had locked his apartment before leaving, but as he thought of any other possibilities, one particular person came to his mind. "If anything, something this stupid would be her idea. Otherwise, it's a trap," Drew said out loud as he glared at the large present. As a member of the secret magical organization, Paradox, Drew did have a number of enemies who'd pay to see him dead. He had grown to become a lot more cautious over the years because of attempts on his life by those enemies. In hopes of testing his theory, he decided on a simple test. "Well, look at this! A weird box! If there's nothing in it, I may as well destroy it!" Drew called out, hoping to get a response before he followed through with his threat. He got no answers at first, but after a couple of seconds of silence, the top of the present slowly moved and a set of eyes peeked out at him. Drew only stared in silence at the set of eyes looking back at him. Before he could say anything, the person inside the box leaped out as if it was all a part of their plan from the beginning. "Merry Christmas!" the woman who had been inside the large present shouted as the lid of the present flew up and hit the ceiling before carelessly falling to the floor nearby. "Christmas isn't for another two days," Drew pointed out without missing a beat. The pink haired woman stood frozen upon hearing Drew's words before quickly bouncing back and waving a hand around. "That's not important," the woman said as she climbed out of the present. "The important part is-" "What are you even doing here, anyway, Lucy? I thought you were still off on a mission," Drew questioned. cutting the woman off before she could finish. Lucy flashed a confidant smile as she put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. "I finished early. When I heard from Irene that you didn't have any Christmas plans, I worked hard to take care of my mission early and came straight here. I wouldn't want my friend to be lonely on Christmas," Lucy replied as she moved closer to Drew. "We're not friends. We're hardly even acquaintances," Drew said. "Aw, don't be that way. You can say that we're friends if you want to. It's just us here, after all," Lucy said, completely ignoring Drew's words as she lightly poked Drew's side with a finger. As much as he didn't wish to admit it, Lucy did have a point about the nature of their relationship. While he wouldn't call her his friend out loud, the two were easily more than just mere acquaintances. Even though he had worked with her on a few jobs and reluctantly shared a bed with her a number of times, Drew wasn't a fan of how she tried to act so familiar with him. At the same time, something about how she simply rammed past his walls drew him to her for reasons he didn't understand. 'Paradox's magic experts do say that magical abilities in humans sometimes have strange effects on their personality. Even so, how did a woman like this make it to the rank of an agent?' Drew thought to himself. As he turned towards Lucy, it was then he finally took notice of her outfit. When she had come out of the present and started rambling about Christmas, he shouldn't have been surprised that she had chosen to wear a red and white outfit similar to the main man of Christmas himself. The outfit itself, however, left a fair amount of skin exposed, despite the season. 'She has to be an idiot or something, dressing up like that,' Drew thought to himself. He stopped when he caught Lucy staring back at him with a grin. "Like what you see? Irene recommended it to me when we went Christmas shopping," Lucy said, moving a finger to her mouth. "You can stare all you want, you know. I don't mind if it's you" "S-shut up, you idiot!" Drew said, quickly looking away from the woman and moving a short distance away from her. Her quiet laugh rang out through the quiet apartment before she quickly changed gears. "But enough about that! Let's go out and see the town. It's been a while since I've visited," Lucy said, walking past Drew and making her way towards the door. "Wait, you're going out dressed like that?" Drew questioned, but by the time he looked towards the door, it had already been opened and the pink haired woman was gone. Drew couldn't help but sigh to himself. "That woman moves at the beat of her own drum. At the very least, she could've worn a coat," he muttered to himself. 'Christmas, huh. Ever since I became an agent of Paradox, I haven't really thought about it all that much. I usually just take on a long job to avoid thinking about it. A lot of agents don't keep much contact with family because of the danger of the job, especially with all this business involving that King guy and his goons. And yet...' A light snow had begun to fall when Drew and Lucy made their way into town. From the main street to local businesses, the town was bustling with the Christmas spirit. Everywhere Drew looked were plenty of decorations. Lucy hung close to him, pointing to anything that caught her interest, from a large gingerbread man in a person's yard to the large, decorated tree at the center of the town's park. "Ordinaries really like their holidays, don't they?" Drew asked in an attempt to make conversation. Lucy frowned and prodded his side with her finger, causing him to jump a bit and move away from her. She quickly closed the distance, looking up at him. "You shouldn't call them that. We used to be like them before, you know. Didn't you used to celebrate holidays like this with your family?" Lucy replied. Drew took a moment to consider Lucy's answer as he looked up at the sky. While he was thinking things over, Lucy smiled and took his hand. "Even though we can't really be with our families without putting them in danger, we could always celebrate the holidays together," she said, flashing Drew a smile. When Drew heard her words and met her eyes, he froze for a moment. In that short moment of time, the sounds of people, the falling snow, and everything else ceased to exist. Drew caught himself and quickly looked away from Lucy, clearing his throat and trying to pretend nothing was happening. "Come on, let's just get going," Drew said in an attempt to deflect from the conversation, pulling Lucy along by the hand with him. The pair's Christmas trip into town took them to several shops for primarily window shopping. Lucy had ended up buying something when Drew wasn't looking and the pair made the walk back towards Drew's apartment. "This is really a nice little town you've been assigned to. I should visit more often," Lucy said. "Please don't. Dealing with you whenever you come storming into my place like you own it is annoying enough, especially when you go deciding to use my shower without asking," Drew replied. "You say that but you;re the one who couldn't help himself that one time." "That's because you threw off your towel and started running around like an idiot." "You didn't seem to mind back then," Lucy said with a grin. Drew had no counterargument, so he instead kept his mouth shut. "Speaking of which, though, think fast!" Lucy added, digging through the bag she was carrying and tossing something out of it. Drew was only able to briefly see the item she threw, but when he tried to reach out and grab it, Lucy made her move. She moved in, wrapping her arms around her neck and connecting her lips with his. Drew's eyes widened as he finally realized what the item she had tossed in his direction had been. Lucy had thrown a fake mistletoe at him, knowing he'd react by trying to catch it. She kept the kiss short, but when she moved away, her face was still incredibly close to Drew's. "You never got me a present, you know," Lucy quietly said. "What are you expecting? I wasn't planning on celebrating Christmas. Besides, I wasn't expecting you to make a surprise appearance," Drew said. "Then you can make it up to me," Lucy replied, leaning in and whispering into Drew's ear. "Besides, I came in that present. You should play with your present. You've been staring at me all afternoon, you know. I bet you've been thinking all sorts of things this whole time." "Why do you get like this at the weirdest times?" Drew muttered. As much as he wanted to deny it, feeling Lucy's warm body pressing up against him was wearing at his mental defenses. Even though he knew better than to play along with her games, seeing the revealing Santa outfit on Lucy had been pushing thoughts into his mind since he saw it. Late that night in Drew's apartment, loud moans rang out from the open door to Drew's bedroom. Lucy lied naked on the bed, her arms and leg tightly wrapped around Drew as his cock pounded her pussy. When the pair had returned to Drew's apartment, it didn't take long for the floodgates to break. Shortly after Lucy had undressed, the pair moved to the living room, where she sat in his lap while he fingered her. At the same time, she had reached between Drew's legs and slowly stroked his cock with her hand. Once Lucy was wet enough, she turned around and lowered herself onto Drew's cock, pressing her bare breasts up against his chest while she moved her hips. Her hands rested on Drew's shoulders as the room filled with the sounds of sex. Before long, Drew came inside her, but one time had hardly been enough to satisfy them. Lucy slowly got off of Drew's lap and moved between his legs, taking his still hard cock into her mouth. She slowly bobbed her head up and down, sometimes pulling his cock out to run her tongue up his full length. When Drew was close again, Lucy would stop and instead shove his cock between her breasts. She flashed a grin as she ran her tongue around his tip, pushing him over his limit and shooting out another load on her face and breasts. From there, they moved to the bedroom, where Lucy pushed Drew onto the bed and straddled him. She took his cock in her hand and slowly lowered herself onto it. A loud moan came out of her mouth as his cock entered her a second time. She put her hands on her chest as she rode him, unable to hold back any sounds coming from her mouth. She leaned in and stone a deep kiss from Drew;s lips, but before she knew it, the man turned the tables on her and she found herself laying on the bed while he towered over her. After a number of thrusts, Drew let out another load inside of Lucy while she let out a loud moan and came herself. Shortly after they had finished, Lucy ended up falling asleep holding onto Drew's arm. Drew tried to shake her awake, but Lucy slept like a log. 'Come to think of it, she said that she finished her mission early and came straight here to do this elaborate present stunt. If I remember correctly, she was sent on an elimination job to deal with some problem King's goons were starting. Did she really pull off the job early just to celebrate Christmas with me? No...that's not possible,; Drew thought, turning his gaze to the sleeping woman. "Why does this always happen, anyway? We always end up having sex whenever you come storming in," Drew said, mostly to himself. Even as he let out a sigh, he slowly moved a stray strand of Lucy's pink out of her face. Watching her sleep peacefully made Drew think back to the past a bit before he lied down and went to sleep. Early the next morning, while Drew was making breakfast, Lucy sat at the table wearing nothing but one of Drew's white button up shirts. She had not bothered to button up the shirt, giving a good view of her chest and stomach. She sat in silence, clearly thinking over something. When the thought came to her, she quickly stood up and walked to the kitchen, where Drew was right in the middle of putting butter on toast. "Hey. so...I kind of forgot to fill out my report for my mission," Lucy suddenly said once she was right next to Drew. The man's hand stopped moving while he turned to Lucy, who looked at him with a "please help me" smile. 'I take back every positive thing I thought about you before. You really are an idiot,' Drew thought to himself. In the end, Drew had spent the day before Christmas having to write Lucy's mission report for her while trying not to be tempted by how she was dressed. All the while, Lucy lied her head on Drew's lap as she recounted her mission. Even as he tried to work, impure thoughts began to run through his mind again. 'I guess it's not the worst thing ever, spending the holidays with someone. Even so, this woman will probably be the end of me at this rate.'

The jingle bells above the door chimed for the thousandth time that day, and Holly, yes, her name was fucking Holly, five feet of fury with blonde curls, wanted to scream. The holiday season at Santa’s Workshop & More was always a special kind of retail hell, but this year? This year, she was pretty sure she’d signed away her soul to corporate Satan himself. The outfit was a crime against humanity: a short flared red “elf” dress with white fur trim that barely covered her ass, candy cane thigh-highs, candy red heels, and a choker with a fucking bell that jingled every time she so much as took a step. As for the earrings, orange pearls that dangled like tiny traffic lights, because nothing said “holiday cheer” like looking like a discount hooker from the North Pole. Holly jabbed at the touchscreen and looked up, glaring at the queue. The line stretched halfway to the back of the store. A writhing, groaning mob of entitled customers armed with coupons and complaints. A last-minute shopper lumbered up to the counter, his arms overflowing with random crap. Video games, dolls, sneakers, a purse, three different kinds of wrapping paper, and a garden gnome. He dumped it all onto the desk like he was feeding a woodchipper. Holly stared. “Sir, you do realize this isn’t a yard sale, right?” The man grinned. “Gotta get it all in one go, sweetheart!” She rolled her green eyes, scanning items as the line grew longer by the minute. Voices rose from further back. "Open another register!" "This is bullshit!" She finished, shoving his receipt at him. “NEXT!” A woman with a "speak-to-the-manager" bob stepped up to the counter, kid in tow, waving a sale tag on a pink sweater like courtroom evidence. The boy immediately whined, "Miss, can I have a candy cane?" “No.” “But…” “No!” The kid burst into tears. His mom shot Holly a glare. “You’re supposed to be nice!” Holly sighed dramatically, her choker jingling like a warning bell as she scanned. "Lady, I get paid minimum wage to dress like a slutty elf and listen to Jingle Bell Rock for the 87th time this week. My ‘nice’ expired three hours ago. That’ll be $39.99." The mom huffed. "Wait. This was on sale last week! The tag says it’s 50% off." Holly exhaled sharply. "The sale ended." "But the tag…" "Ended." "What about the spirit of the season?!" Holly's eye twitched. "What about the spirit of paying for your shit?" The woman gasped, clutching her pearls. "Such appalling language! I demand…" "What?" Holly snapped, voice cracking like a whip. "What do you demand, Karen? That I magic the sale back into existence? Or let me guess…" The woman’s eyes went wide, her mouth hanging open incredulously. "I demand to speak to your manager!" Holly’s last nerve shattered. She grabbed the PA microphone and bellowed, her voice echoing through the store, "NICK! TO THE REGISTERS. NOW." Cheers erupted from the line. Holly turned to see shoppers grinning and snickering, phones out. Holly was about to go viral. The kid pointed at her and giggled, "Mommy, the elf is mad." “Yeah,” Holly muttered, “the elf is fucking over it.” Nick St. Clair, or Santa Nick, as he insisted, strolled up to the register like he owned the place. Which, unfortunately for Holly, he did. Six feet tall, hair and beard dyed white to honor the jolly man himself, cocky smirk, his red suit was open to flaunt an athletic build. But Holly was quite sure the bulge in his pants was an overcompensating pillow. “Ho ho ho,” Nick drawled, clapping his hands together. “What’s the problem here, folks?” Holly crossed her arms, tits straining against the low neckline. “The problem is I’m not paid enough to deal with this circus. This outfit’s humiliating, the music’s torture, and these customers…” "Ah-ah-ah." Nick held up a gloved finger, cutting her off. "Now, Holly, it’s the holiday season. The season of giving. Of joy. Of goodwill toward men." His gaze flicked down to her cleavage, then back up, his smirk growing. "And yet, here you are, spreading anything but." The line erupted. “She’s rude!” “She called me a Karen!” “She won’t give me candy!” Nick tsked. “Now, that’s not very festive, is it?” He turned to the crowd and raised his voice just enough. “Folks, our elf here forgot the number-one rule: keep the North Pole magic alive. Looks like she needs a reminder from Santa himself.” Roars of approval. A man in line laughed, “Finally, some customer service!” A lady sneered, “Put her in her place, Santa!” Holly’s face burned. “Oh, fuck you all…” Nick's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. "Now, now. The customer is always right." He yanked her from behind the counter and Holly stumbled in her heels. The crowd gathered in a broad circle as he dragged her to the store's center, inflatable snowmen standing witness to her humiliation as Nick took his seat. “Nick, let go, you asshole…” He spun her, bent her over his lap and flipped her dress up. Her bubble butt flashed in black hipsters emblazoned: "SPANK ME! I'm on Santa's Naughty List." Gasps. Laughter. Phones raised. “Oh my God,” Holly groaned, mortified. Nick chuckled. “Looks like someone’s been a very naughty elf this year.” He didn’t wait for a response. His hand cracked against her ass, the sound echoing through the store like a gunshot. Holly yelped, more from shock than pain. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. “Count them, Holly,” Nick ordered, his voice dripping with amusement. “Fuck you!” she snapped. SMACK. “One!” She winces. SMACK. “Two!” SMACK. “Three!” The crowd chanted as her ass already started to show a touch of pink: "Naughty elf! Naughty elf!" Nick spanked her until her ass was Christmas red, then finally stopped. Holly was kicking her heels and gritting her teeth, trying to preserve what was left of her dignity, even as her face was red with rage and humiliation. Her voice was higher by the end. SMACK! “Forty-eight!” SMACK! Forty-nine! SMACK! Fifty! Nick finally stopped and Holly stood, rubbing her stinging ass through the fabric. "Now, Holly, are you ready to apologize to our valued customers?" Holly gritted her teeth. "Go to hell." Nick sighed, "Well. Since you’re still not getting into the spirit, maybe a big candy cane will cheer you up." He unbuckled. The crowd cheered. Holly tried to pull away, “Nick, this isn’t funny…” “On your knees, little ho ho ho.” Holly hesitated, every eye was on her, phones recording. "Ugh, fine!" Then she sank to the tile. His cock sprang free. Ten thick, veiny, throbbing inches. Holly’s eyes widened, mouth watering despite herself. "Holy shit." Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You" started blaring for the fourth time that day. Holly gave an annoyed moan and bit her lip, “Perfect timing…” She decided to reclaim some control with a little bit of teasing. Her tongue darted out, tracing the tip slowly. Another lick. The crowd oohed, Nick's breath hitched. I don't want a lot for Christmas… There is just one thing I need… She kissed along the shaft, red lips leaving glossy marks. She set the pace, swirling her tongue around the head before stroking the shaft and sucking on his heavy “Santa sack”. I just want you for my own More than you could ever know She gave a long lick from base to tip and then took him into her mouth, bobbing her pretty pointy-eared head. Nick threw his head back with pleasure and groaned. The crowd leaned in. Holly looked up at him mischievously, slapping the bulbous head on her tongue. Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is you The song picks up with the bouncy rhythm and sound of the jingle bells, Nick’s hand fisting her golden curls as he smacks her face with his hefty manhood. It spanned the length of her face. “You are such a brute.” “Open wide,” Nick ordered. Holly glared up at him, “You’ve got to be—GLUCK!” The plum-shaped head smashed through her pout, hitting her throat and the bell on her choker jingled in rhythm with Mariah’s sleigh bells. Someone pushes through the crowd, “Hey, I just got here. What’s going…” I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need (and I) SLURP! JINGLE! DROOL! JINGLE! GAG! JINGLE! GLUCK! JINGLE! Holly’s eyes watered. The bell on her choker jingled in sync with the music, a parody of holiday cheer. Her red lipstick smeared in messy rings around his shaft, marking her “progress” as she took him deeper. The crowd cheered as Nick pummelled her face. Tears rolled, mascara smudging and her hands found his thighs to steady herself while the shoppers egged him on. “Make her choke!” “Fuck her face, Santa!” “Elf abuse!” I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Nick grinned, holding Holly’s hair back, the irritable sales assistant closing her eyes in acceptance of her punishment. “That’s it. Take it like a good little elf.” COUGH! JINGLE! GLARG! JINGLE! GHK! JINGLE! OGK! JINGLE! Holly’s throat was raw. Her nose ran. Her full lips stretched around the comically thick cock. She tried to pull back, but Nick held her still. A woman sighed, “Poor girl. That cock is much too large for her.” Oh-oh, all the lights are shining so brightly everywhere (so brightly, baby) And the sound of children's laughter fills the air (oh, oh, yeah) AGKH! JINGLE! UGH! JINGLE! HORK! JINGLE! SPLORCH! JINGLE! Nick’s grip tightened, his breaths coming faster. Holly’s vision blurred, her lips swollen. And then. “FUCK!” Nick growled and slammed home. Holly’s eyes opened and rolled back as she took him balls-deep, his cock pulsing hard as he emptied his “gift” down her throat. Thick. Salty. Endless. Holly’s throat worked, swallowing around him. A man smirked, “Definitely a white Christmas for her!” All I want for Christmas is you, baby All I want for Christmas is you, baby GULP… GULP… GULP… GULP… GULP… GULP… The crowd exploded in cheers. Holly’s cheeks hollow as Nick withdraws his cock, her lips releasing the head with a satisfying, wet POP! Holly collapsed back on her heels, gasping. She coughed, her throat destroyed, her chest heaving. Holly stared up at him, her mouth hanging open with equal parts submission and disbelief, spit and cum stretching from her bottom lip to his cock in a glistening bridge. Snot leaked from one nostril, a glistening bubble in the other, her crying face a beautiful wreck as she caught her breath. Nick zipped up, smirking. “Now… is there something you’d like to say to everyone?” “Okay, okay! You win.” Holly wiped her mouth, her voice a hoarse rasp. “I… I’m really sorry, everyone. For my attitude.” The store roared. Nick offered her a hand, helping her up as she muttered, “I quit.” The boss just smirked. “No, you don’t because you’re a broke college student.” He leaned down, his voice a whisper. “Besides. Don’t think I didn’t notice that wet spot on your panties.” Holly’s cheeks burned hotter than her spanked ass. The crowd dispersed, some patting her on the back, others snickering as they walked away. “Go get yourself cleaned up and after closing, I’ll let you sit on Santa’s lap." Nick chuckled, "Oh, what fun it is to ride.” Holly wanted to slap him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to burn this store to the ground. But she just rolled her eyes with a snarl and quipped back, "Guess I’m so nice, Santa’s coming twice." Because he was right. She was a broke college student. And fuck, her pussy was throbbing.

Fingertips read you, Unbinding the seams, blurring us Where our lipstick smears.

Why am I currently in love with Emily in Paris?

Secret Santa by StarlitSiren Harper had been at Smart and Co’s New York location for almost a year now, as secretary under the managing director. Smart and Co were an accounting firm with their fingers in business’s all over America, and with Christmas fast approaching, the entire office was in full holiday spirits, with every employee prepping for their last day of the festive season. Every employee. Except Harper. “Fuck-“ she wailed again. “Fuck-Fuck!” “Breathe deep,” Isla- her personal agony aunt at the firm- told her fauxx soothingly, clitter-clattering her way through the report on her desk without a care. “Maybe he won’t mind.” “How will he not mind?” Harper snapped. “This fucking office is like Whoville, and I do NOT want to be its Grinch.” Today had been the secret Santa gift exchange and- surprise surprise- Harper was this year’s idiot who had forgotten. There was always one. “Then just fucking blow him or something!” Isla snapped, still working her report. “I swear, you’re making this so much bigger than it needs to be.” Harper felt as if she had been slapped with the ferocity of that retort, and she watched Isla rise from her office chair to march out of their shared space, towards the printing room. Harper watched her go, speechless… not at the gall of it, rather… ‘No, no, that’s crazy,’ Harper thought, even as she stalked towards the bathroom and shut the door behind her. ‘What kind of girl would even do that?’ she wondered, even as she inspected herself in the mirror. She was short at 5’2, with golden blonde hair from a bottle that was presently tied up in a smart pony tail. Her eyes were a pale blue, and… well she worked out, enough to keep in shape, and men were… well, men, so maybe… “Fuck it-“ Harper said out loud. “Fuck it!” and again, and flushing a furious scarlet, she stomped out to the office, dug the label ‘To Julian, from Santa,’ And- after some quick thinking- made a reservation for the forth floor conference room, marked the meeting as ‘private’ and dashed upstairs, pulling the blinds and locking the door. ‘This is insane,’ She thought, even as she was thumbing an e-mail on her phone to Julian. Julian Carvallo worked in HR, but career disaster this might have been with anyone else, this particular married man had made eyes at her on more than a few occasions. And it’s not like Harper wasn’t looking for another job anyway, so- Another several minutes later there came a rap at the door, and Harper hurriedly unlocked it, ushered him in mid-greeting, and locked the door again. Whatever professional ‘Hello’ the handsome Costa-Rican had in mind for her had been lost on his tongue… Probably because in the few minutes he had taken to get here, Harper had stripped down to her too-small lacy bra and matching thong. Her clothing lay forgotten on the table, and the only other thing she wore was that little label. “Merry Christmas-“ She sang stupidly, and immediately regretted it, feeling herself flush crimson all over again. “I, uh-“ She felt herself cross her arms over her chest. “Sooo- I’m your, um-“ “I just can’t believe you didn’t wait for me to unwrap you,” was all he said in response, smiling at her from beneath those smouldering brown eyes, like the cockiest bastard in the world. “Always knew you were that kind of girl?” ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ she almost snapped, though realization quickly sunk in that- yes- she was almost nude in the office, here to proposition HR for a secret Santa present. Huh. She was that kind of girl. “Just- shut up, it’s the fucking season of giving!” she retorted. Why was this so awkward? Smutty stories always made it seem so fucking easy. ‘Be confident,’ she told herself firmly. ‘Confidence.’ “Now, you want your present?” “Oh, badly.” Julian closed the gap, wrapping his strong arms around her and whirling Harper around away from the door, perching her bottom on the edge of the conference table. He kissed her fiercely, lips and tongue and teeth, and Harper found her breath catching in her throat as Julian’s hands were everywhere. “Oh fuck-“ Harper managed. “I-“ she groaned as her colleague’s tongue traced a long, lingering trail along her neck. “I… wait-“ The beautiful man obediently pulled back, eyes questioning, and Harper rapidly- and utterly without grace- clambered up atop the table and laid down on her front, yanking at his trousers. “I, uh- your present-“ Still there was a slight look of confusion on his face. “I’m sucking your dick you idiot!” That wasn’t too vague a hint for him, at least, and Julian helped fumble with his belt, freeing his manhood from the confines of fabric between the pair. When Harper gasped when she saw it, it wasn’t because it was huge or any shit like that- though Julian was packing pretty well, that she had to grant the guy- it was the reality of this entire fucking thing sinking in. Julian watched her expectantly, and the blonde ‘not that kind of girl’ shuffled closer to plant a delicate kiss on his cock. A delicate kiss that turned into another, and another, more hungry, until she took him in her mouth. He moaned as her warm mouth engulfed ins dick, and that made Harper moan. Welp, if she got fired for this, maybe she could add ‘Oral Expert’ to her resume. With every bob of her head, she took him a little deeper, always maintaining a comfort level short of gagging, but with every little drop further onto Julian, he became more frantic. Minutes passed with no sound but for the moaning and the soft slurping sounds of her present, then some base instinct kicked in, and one of Julian’s hands roughly grabbed her by the ponytail, yanking her hard onto his cock. She gagged on him, felt tears well in her eyes, but surrendered control. He thrust into her mouth, each push coming closer to her limit, and somewhere within another minute she felt a hot, salty feeling explode upon her tongue. The grip on her hair loosened, and Julian pulled out, panting in exhaustion as his cum dribbled down her chin. “Happy-Christmas-“ she managed weakly. Julian just laughed, tucking himself away… but before he could reply, the unmistakable sound of the door unlocking as it opened inwards to the scene. There, framed in the Doorway, Damien Wood. Her manager. “Boss, it’s not what it-“ Julia began. “Get out of here- now- and say nothing,” Wood barked. Julian paused only a moment before retreating, tail between his legs, and shutting the door behind him. Mr Wood locked up again, turning back to the humiliated Harper… and pointing a finger to the corner of the ceiling . She turned her head, dread settling in at the realisation… and saw a camera watching the conference room. “It’s off now-“ Mr Wood assured her. “…and I’ve got the only copy secured in my office.” Stupid as Harper felt in the moment. Even she could connect those dots. So… fuck it. “Merry Christmas, then.” She told him sheepishly, and wiped the mess from her chin as her boss began to yank his pants down.

THE CHALLENGE We're going straight into our holiday season challenge! Write anything inspired by the season and/or seasonal celebrations. You've got 3 weeks! Deadline Midnight (EST) Saturday 20 Dec, 2025 Limits 1 entry per person keep it around 2,000 words, no penalty for going a little over but remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits

A longtime private roleplay partner had a bad bout of writer's block and I suggested maybe try to write a haiku as a way to work through it. It's a constrained art form with clear, easy rules, which kind of sketches in a framework on the blank page. Sometimes that kind of new way to look at a problem (thank you, Brian Eno and your Oblique Strategies) can help a creative stall. What emerged has been actually a really fun, occasionally very sexy, series of haiku. I thought it might be fun to open the game to everyone. Only rule is, 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables and follow on in some way from the previous post ★★★ Touch of a soft breath Goosebumps raise on bare skin Arousal begins

Me, 2 days ago: "Ok, we're not going to procrastinate this time. We're going to get this done before the deadline." Also me, on the day of the deadline at 12:24 PM: "...Welp, at least it's done. Even if I had to rush the end a lot." In my original outline, I was planning on adding in a second girl who had a crush on Seth and gives him a bit of "extra service" before the classroom meeting which was already planned. Because I slacked off insanely hard and rushed to finish, that part will likely sit in purgatory for the forseeable future. 'It's hard to believe it's only been a year since graduation. With everything that happened since then, it's felt like an eternity. And yet, even after that time, I end up back in this town. I don't know whether to thank the chief or punch him when I get back tonight for this.' A lone figure walked among a large crowd of people. All of them were heading for the same destination, the school festival of Ravenwood Academy, held twice a year. Apparently, it was a chance for the students to show off their creativity before the long school year got into full swing. A tall, black haired man hung in the back of the crowd, carefully observing the area around him. Due to a number of circumstances, he had been shipped out of town the day after his graduation ceremony from the very same school whose festival he was now heading towards. After a long, long year, he had finally returned, but he was no longer the same as in his school days. Unlike the rest of the crowd, a sheathed sword was at his belt, getting him a number of looks from the students at the front gates. He had gotten express approval to bring the weapon, under the condition he didn't draw the blade for any reason in public spaces. As he walked past the decorated front gates and onto the campus, he spotted a number of stalls lining the area. From food and drinks to games someone would usually find at a festival, all run by the students. 'It's almost funny how normal it is,' Seth thought to himself as he wandered around. His childhood friend was supposed to have been meeting him when he arrived, but she was nowhere to be found. While the two of them were the same age, she had ended up missing a large number of days of school due to a family situation and ended up being held back a year. While he didn't exactly know how, she had managed to get into contact with his superior and invited Seth to attend the school festival. Even so... "She's late," Seth said out loud to himself. He could feel the eyes of passerby on him as he stood around. A part of him was considering going off and looking for his friend on his own until he spotted a familiar, brown haired girl running from outside the school's main building. When she came running towards him, Seth moved out of the way through instinct, causing the girl to fall onto the ground. "You really need to be more careful, Nadia," Seth said, extending a hand for the girl and helping her on her feet. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the girl had not been wearing the academy's uniform, but was instead dressed up as a maid. "Why do you always do that, Senpai? I was just going to give you a hug," Nadia said, glaring at him with her cheeks puffed. "You should know better than throwing yourself at someone in public like that," Seth replied. After a short pause, he gave the pouting girl a smile. "It's been a while, though, Nadia. It's good to see you're doing well," he said. For a moment, Seth watched as the look on his friend's face changed, like she wanted to ask him about what had happened to him after graduation, but just as quickly, she flashed a bright smile. "Of course! I'm not the same girl I was last year, after all. Now, come on. We've got a whole festival to explore. You're free until tonight, right?" Nadia said, leaning in close to Seth and taking one of his hands. As she pulled him on ahead towards the school, a thought ran through his mind to last year, shortly before his graduation. Throughout that day, Nadia led Seth all around Ravenwood Academy, showing off the various stalls and attractions the student body had prepared. Among them, Nadia's own class was doing a cafe, an idea that had been primarily suggested by the guys in her class. At no point did she ask Seth any questions about where he had been or what he was doing since he vanished. Meanwhile, Seth listened to Nadia rant on about how hard the work was to get certain things approved and prepared for the festival. It reminded him of his own time at school and how much work was put into preparing for the school festival. Students of Ravenwood Academy were usually studying hard for most of the year, making the school festival a time for the students to unwind, especially for those preparing for college entrance exams. "I haven't really thought about college yet," Nadia said during a conversation the pair was in the middle of. They had picked up some sandwiches from a stall and took a seat on a bench outside, watching students and families pass by. "You've had plenty of time to consider it," Seth shot back, but Nadia only looked up at the sky. "I know, but..." she trailed off, looking back down at her half eaten sandwich. "It's because of you repeating, right?" Seth asked. Nadia replied with a small nod. 'In a way, she does have a good point. Her having to repeat the year is going to affect her future, regardless of the reason. But maybe I can...' Seth thought, but he stopped his train of thought when Nadia quickly stood up. "Senpai, let's stop talking about this serious stuff. Today's supposed to be about fun, after all. Come on, there's still plenty of places to check out," Nadia said, taking Seth's hand and pulling him off the bench. For the rest of their walk around the festival, Nadia didn't bring up any more serious subjects. He didn't know the exact reason, but Seth had a feeling of why she was trying so hard to put on a cheerful act. 'Senpai's changed. I don't know what happened to him, but he's nothing like how he was before. He feels so distant now, and he's probably going to vanish again after today. Maybe he's met someone else. Even if he did, I don't want him to forget about me,' Nadia thought to herself. The sun had already begun to set and she was alone in a classroom, changing out of the maid outfit she had been wearing earlier back into her uniform. She had asked Seth to wait in a classroom on the third floor, but when she thought about her childhood friend, she couldn't help but be curious about where he had gone after graduation. While she was doing her best not to pry, another part of her wanted to know something. Nadia took a deep breath and walked out of the room, heading for the classroom on the third floor where Seth waited, the very same room she confessed her feelings to him one year prior. "Yeah. Sorry about this. This may be my last chance, after all. Yeah, thanks. I'll buy you a drink for this," Seth said to a person on the phone as he waited for Nadia. Once the person on the other end said their piece, he hung up the phone and shoved it into his pocket. He turned towards the window, watching students walking around and having fun. He thought back to the past and how he's become different than his old self. As such thoughts ran through his head, the door slowly opened and Nadia stepped inside. For a few moments, neither of them spoke as Nadia closed the door behind her. She stood silently for nearly a minute, the only sound being the voices coming from outside the windows. "Hey...Senpai. You're not going to be around after tomorrow, right?" Nadia finally asked. Seth didn't answer her question right away. The question was bound to be asked at some point, but he had not thought it'd be then and there. "Yeah. I don't know when, or even if I'll come back to this town again," Seth simply replied. Another short silence followed. Seth walked over to Nadia, who refused to look in his direction. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling the girl closer to him. It was only then he noticed that tears were streaming down her face. "Even if I have to go far away, I'm not going to just forget about you. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you, Nadia," Seth said. It wasn't long before his friend turned around, burying her face in his chest as she cried. The most Seth could do at that moment in time was hold her close to him. Outside, sunset soon made way to night. The last major event of the school festival was a dance around a large bonfire made in the courtyard. However, while a vast majority of the festival's attendants were at the dance, in a classroom on the school's third floor, a girl's moans could be heard coming from one of the closed rooms. Nadia sat in Seth's lap, wearing nothing but her skirt. Hidden underneath, his cock was already deep inside her. One thing had quickly led to their current situation after Nadia had calmed down. Nadia put her hands on her friend's shoulders, bouncing up and down on his cock while her moans rang out in the room. "I never would've thought all it'd take is a year for you to become such a pervert. Someone could catch us, you know?" Seth said. Nadia stopped moving and poked his cheek with a finger. "It's all your fault, Senpai. You made me wait for a whole year," Nadia replied, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her body up against him. "If it's all my fault, then you want me to take responsibility, right?" Seth asked. Before Nadia could answer him, he put his hands on her hips and started thrusting up into her. A loud moan escaped from Nadia's lips after Seth took control, his strong thrusts making wet sounds echo through the room. Nadia soon found herself bent over a desk while Seth pounded her from behind. She covered her mouth with one hand, trying to stop any of her loud moans from coming out. The sounds of music and people outside managed to drown out most of their noise. Before long, Seth felt himself reaching his limit, and with one last thrust, stuffed his cock into Nadia one last time before shooting out his cum deep inside her. After a short time, Nadia went and put back on the rest of her clothes and the pair walked out of the room together. The pair walked hand in hand down the quiet hallway, neither saying anything. Nadia had a bright smile on her face, staying close to Seth as they walked. As they reached the stairs heading down to the second floor, Nadia stopped for a moment. "Hey, Senpai? Do you want to go get something to eat? I'm feeling a little hungry after earlier," she asked. After a short pause, she flashed a grin. "And maybe afterward, you can show me how much you love me again." Seeing the smile on her face, Seth already had an idea of what she was talking about. 'Chief, I don't think I'll be back tonight.'

THE CHALLENGE For Thanksgiving, your challenge is to write a scene, story, or scenario around the theme of seduction, stuffing, and seasonal submission. Write a spicy, sultry, or hilarious Thanksgiving-themed story inspired by the phrase “Stuff Me, Senpai.” Interpret it however you like: literally, figuratively, metaphorically, magically, monstrously... Bring your best anime-style holiday ecchi chaos. School festival? Just a student and their senpai left behind during college break? The two of them at the hot springs trip during fall break? Baking pumpkin pie in an apron (and nothing else)? Food as a flirtation device? Bring the teasing, the comedy, and the steamy fallout. Deadline Midnight (EST) Saturday 22 Nov, 2025 Limits 1 entry per person keep it around 2,000 words, no penalty for going a little over but remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits

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