The name’s Chase. Franklin Roosevelt Chase. I’m a private Dick in Pratchett or Fairyville as the locals call it. It’s not a profession for someone who’s averse to getting a little dirt on them. Suits me perfectly. It doesn’t pay well, but it puts enough change in my pocket to keep my vices going; drinking to excess, losing at cards, and pissing off good looking dames. Today I was on a roll. Not even happy hour and already I’d lost next month’s rent to a joker holding a trio of ladies and blown my last cheddar on hooch. Two for three. Not bad. Maybe I should give my ex a call and let her know the alimony check would be late. Again. I’d gotten as far as picking up the phone when a knock on the door stayed my hand. A glance through the frosted window with my moniker etched in copper had me setting the receiver back in the cradle. Looks like lady luck had a serious beef with me today and was sending me a doozy.
“It’s open,” I called out, doing my best to straighten my tie into a semblance of dignity and give my hair a quick finger comb as the dull brass knob on my side of the office turned and in walked the nicest pair of gams I’d ever set eyes on.
“Franklin Chase?”
Her voice oozed of sex or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
“At your Service. What can I do you for?”
“I want to hire your services, Mister Chase.”
“Pull up a chair, Miss…?” Third thing I’d taken notice of was the lack of a wedding band. I should mention the first two; she had legs to die for, not to mention she was stacked to the rafters up top.
She gave me the once over before answering, and I could only imagine what she was seeing; the rumpled suit, disheveled hair, and two days’ worth of stubble on my cheeks. The desk I was sat behind matched my appearance. I made a mental note to hire a cleaning lady and immediately scratched it off the list as another expense I couldn’t afford.
“Day. Valentine Day.” There was a hint of ice in her voice as if she was daring me to crack wise. Have to admit, I had to swallow down several remarks before they left my lips.
“Take a seat, Miss Day, and tell me why you’re here.”
Another glance around the office, followed by a small sigh, gave me a good impression of her reluctance to come into contact with the single unoccupied chair on her side of the desk. Somehow, she managed to keep her expression of disdain a momentary thing as she sat.
“It’s my sister. I think she’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” I did my best to disguise my disappointment at the way she kept her knees pressed together. The sheer black stocking she wore hinted at expensive lingerie. The kind that men like me only dreamed of burying their face in. Even a glimpse would have made me forget about my troubles for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe even longer.
“Skittles,” she replied distastefully, her fingers curling momentarily, drawing my attention to the crimson lacquer she’d coated them with. Strange. She was obviously upper class – that pastels and pearls crowd. You notice things in my business. A dame like her rarely wore something so garish.
“Skittles? Only effects those with a bit of fairy blood.” I held back a chuckle as I played connect the dots. I’d heard this story a million times. A little youthful rebellion. Younger sister out sowing her wild oats and getting in over her head with the fairies. Easy enough job if you knew the right people to pay off and I’d been at this long enough to know all the right people. “Tell me about this sister of yours, Miss Day.”
“I can assure you, Mister Chase, that she’s pure of blood,” Valentine leveled a frosty, blue eyed stare at me.” Bingo. My day was complete. I’d managed to piss off one of the hottest dames I’d ever set eyes on. “Olivia’s been missing for three days. I’m concerned for her safety.”
“Tell me the details.”
oOo
I’m not sure how I managed it, but Miss Day’s icy frown had thawed slightly, even after agreeing to pay me fifty buckaroos an hour plus expenses. I was glad it was going to be an easy case. I bring her sister in, maybe she’d warm up to me. Franklin Chase, eternal optimist. I might even get another smile out of her. Not the only thing I wanted to get a glimpse of; it was impossible not to enjoy the sight of her swishing derriere up until the moment the door closed behind her, the hinges protesting faintly. I made a mental note to have them oiled at the first opportunity. First, however, I had some calls to make.
oOo
Like I’d said, with a little grease, it was easy enough for me to track Valentine’s little sister down. Can’t say I was surprised to find out she’d been hanging around with Ivy’s crowd. Not a bad bunch, although thoroughly committed to hedonism. Sex, booze, and drugs, twenty four seven was how they rolled. I’d have to put a little extra charm on. Not to mention some new duds. Ivy would consider it disrespectful to show up dressed in my usual grey suit and navy tie. She appreciated a little effort, no matter how uncomfortable it might be or maybe because of it. Armed with only my wits and my fists, and an etched glass tube filled with over a dozen of the small round candies that the fairies craved. I’d been holding onto it for a long time in case of an emergency like impressing someone clearly out of my league.
I caught a cab out to Tinktown, as the locals liked to call it, a section of Pratchett out on the eastside, bordered on one side by the lake. It wasn’t a bad place, as long as you knew your way around and were ready to bluff your way through it. Every once in a while life threw you a bone. This case, for example. I had a bad habit of playing the tarnished knight from time to time and this was right up my ally; rescuing a damsel in distress from the ‘evil fairies’ and her own indulgences, never mind that she probably didn’t want rescuing.
I pulled the photo Valentine had provided me from my breast pocket, studying it one more time, not out of need, but as a way to pass the time. It sure as hell beat talking to the cabbie about the weather or the local sports team. Olivia took after her sister in all the right ways. A real looker. Legs that seemed to go on forever, a nice ass, and, while her tits weren’t nearly as impressive as Valentine’s, no one in their right mind would say she didn’t have a nice pair; nice and perky, just like the expression on her face. From the photo, she seemed like a nice ‘kid’, full of summer sunshine unlike her sister’s ice queen persona. Girl like her would be easy pickings for the skittle dealers of Tinktown, especially if, as I suspected, she had any fairy blood running through her veins. I’d noticed enough of a point to Valentine’s ears to guess that, somewhere along the line, the bloodline wasn’t as pure as she’d like to pretend. Even the best of families had a penchant for philandering with the fey from time to time with few exceptions.
Upon arrival, I tipped the cabbie handsomely. In my line of work, it paid to make as many people remember my mug for the right reason as possible. One never knew when catching a cab might make the difference between spending the night in bed or spending it on a slab.
I took a moment to gaze up the serpentine like stairs that led to Ivy’s House of Pleasures. It was magnificent in its gaudiness. Built of marble and quartz it practically shone like a beacon beneath the light of the moon. The way led through gardens that were both wild and over grown and bursting with color. Flowers of every variety fought for dominance behind the wall that protected the small hill upon which the mansion sat, broken only by the wrought iron gate of the entrance. I chuckled, thinking, not for the first time, that it needed a huge flashing neon sign that read ‘Abandon all morals ye who enter here’ over the door. It was Tinktown’s most notorious den of iniquity. One thing that fairies had down pat was vice. It just came to them naturally.
Standing upon either side of the main entry door were a pair of perfectly matched trolls who managed to look both bored and menacing at the same time. Tall, dark, and ugly number one and number two.
“Gentlemen,” I said, putting on my most charming smile as I paused on the marble steps.
“Fifty bucks if yous wants in,” Number One announced unceremoniously.
“Cash,” Number two added, unnecessarily. Trolls weren’t the most imaginative of creatures which made them perfect for door duty.
“I don’t suppose you know where I might find your boss?” I asked, reaching for my wallet and mentally tabulating my expenses for the night so far.
“Miss Ivy’s in da garden, playing croquet,” Number One said, both of them snickering as he slowly counted out the dough I’d handed over. Apparently I wasn’t privy to the joke. If it even was a joke.
“No touching without an invitation. Food is on da house. Drinks and everything else ain’t. No fights and no trouble, or yous get tossed and me and Jasper get to show you a good time.”
“Don’t worry, boys. Not here to cause trouble,” I replied, managing to hide my wince. Unlike the trolls, my imagination was quite vivid, and the last thing I wanted was to be shown ‘a good time’ by the pair.
I recalled the first time I’d ventured through these doors several years and too many cases ago to count and still a little green under the collar. I’d probably stood there for ten minutes straight shocked by my first glimpse beyond the doors of Tinktown’s infamous house of ill repute. It still had that power all these years later, even though I’d known what to expect. Ivy allowed anything and everything salacious to go on under her eaves as long as no one got hurt, unless, of course, that’s what they were here for. In that case, all bets were off. The goings on I’d witnessed had given me an education beyond anything I’d been prepared for; While you see base perversions and abject carnality, she’d giggled, her quiet laughter laced with a sensuality that went straight to my root, if you know what I mean, I see the pinnacle of inspired deviance. She had, I’d conceded to myself more than once, a point.
“Take your coat, sir?” Unlike the pair of brutes outside, the staff inside, both male and female, were handpicked as what could only be described as eye candy. I found myself looking into a pair of emerald eyes and a smile to die for, both belonging to a pair of sculpted breasts tipped by rosy nipples. It took me a moment to realize that she wasn’t actually naked, if you called the nearly invisible diaphanous shift she wore clothing. Only the fact that it glimmered when the light caught it gave any indication to its existence.
“Um, no thanks,” I managed, somehow forcing myself to look her in the face rather than checking to see if the carpet matched the drapes. After all, it’s not every day you get a gander at neon green bush.
“Pants, then?”
“No,” I managed hurriedly, waving her away, her slender fingers already doing their best to unbuckle my belt. Bright neon green and sparkling with lemon colored glitter. I did my best not to blush. “Looking for Ivy. Business.”
“Oh,” she sighed. Either she was a brilliant actress or she was truly disappointed at not being allowed to undress me. Cynical as ever, I chose gifted actress. It doesn’t pay to get caught up in fantasies, no matter how tempting, in this business.
“Second door on the left, down the hall, out back. Miss Ivy is entertaining guests in the rose garden.” She paused, looking almost thoughtful, eyelashes fluttering almost shyly. “You’re that PI, aren’t you? Mister Chase? Candy says you’ve got a nice prick.”
I did my best not to let my cheeks color at her words, mentally going through names and faces. Candy. Yeah, I recalled her. Hair the color of a maraschino cherry and a mouth that was custom made to suck cock. My cock. Sometimes, a guy couldn’t help himself. All work and no play was the best way to get a terminal case of blue balls.
“You tell Candy I said ‘hello’, doll. Any other night, but I’m working a case.”
“Maybe afterwards? Even charge you half price.”
My thoughts went to the screw-top tube in my pocket. If she’d any idea what I was carrying, she’d beg me to plug every hole, twice, for free. Can’t say the thought wasn’t tempting. That said, I was here on a case and I had a rep to uphold, even if no one but me gave half a damn.
“Yeah, maybe later I’ll look you up.”
Calling Ivy’s place of business decadent wouldn’t quite capture the essence. Suffice it to say that it drew the sex obsessed like moths to a flame or, more appropriately, an addict to their drug of choice. The mansion reeked spiritually, and in some cases literally, of deviance and sex. There were acts going on, even here, in the main room that made me blush. It didn’t take much to imagine what went on behind closed doors. The clientele was almost exclusively human, while the ‘hosts and hostesses’ were, without exception, of fey bloodline; full and half-breed fairies, nymphs, satyrs, elves, even a well hung centaur or two. The crowd ebbed and flowed as I made my way through it towards the outer gardens, doing my best to ignore the looks and smiles I was attracting. While my mug wasn’t classically handsome, what with a nose that had been broke once too often and a scar on my left cheek, a memento from nasty little turd who liked hitting women a little too much, I kept fit, and I’ve found that many of the women who passed through the doors here liked guys who were a little rough around the edges. Between the front doors and the back, I’d gotten a total of three offers by dames who weren’t bad in the looks department. No accounting for taste. I was even tempted by one, a redheaded siren who’d forgotten to put on her skirt before leaving the house. I made it a rule to never mix business with pleasure. Too bad. She looked like a wild one. I watched, from the corner of my eye, as she gobbled on a pair of fairy cocks, giving me a salacious wink as she caught me watching. Damn rules. By the time I found the entrance to the rose garden, I was sporting a stiffy that wasn’t about to go away with wishful thinking or even a cold shower.
And, of course, unsurprisingly, I found my way blocked by a pair of muscle bound elves whose idea of modesty was wearing matching loin clothes.
“Party’s behind you,” the taller of the two minced, his arm outstretched gracefully, one carefully manicured fingertip pointing the way back into the main hall.
“Not here to party, Blondie,” I said, doing my best to ignore his near twin as he scowled, recognition dawning in his clear blue eyes.
“Fuck off, Chase. Mistress Ivy’s busy. Why don’t you go molest a tree?”
“Rather take your sister’s virginity, although I’m sure you’ve beat me to it. Let me through. I just want a quick word with Ivy. No trouble, I promise.”
“Private party. You’re not invited.”
I sighed. I really hadn’t wanted any trouble with the pointy eared pricks.
“How about if you let her choose. Just tell her that I’m here to pay my respects. Please?” I gritted my teeth on the last word. Nothing gave me indigestion more than having to pretend to be polite. At least it gained its desired effect. They looked confused as they whispered back and forth before finally coming to a decision.
“No funny stuff, Chase.”
“No funny stuff. Promise.” I kept my fingers crossed, just in case. You never knew, with fairies, when things were going to get slightly out of hand. Or, for that matter, completely out of control.
“Wait here.”
I presented them with my best impression of a sincere smile and waited, whistling softly, and slightly out of tune a little jazz number I’d heard earlier. Ellington, I think. Whatever it was, it was catchy.
Didn’t take long for Blondie to return, sporting a pout.
“Mistress Ivy would be delighted by your company and extends an invitation to join her in a game of croquet.”
“Nancy boy,” I muttered under my breath, knowing that Elves were renowned for their sharp hearing. Just to add insult to injury, I pulled a two-bit piece out of my pocket and, with a flip of my thumb, bounced if off his chest. “For your troubles.” I despised Elves. At best they are egotistical little bastards and It gave a little lift to my stride as I left him fuming in my wake.
I was met at the door leading into the inner gardens by a mountain of flesh that called itself Mister Pinkwell. Half bull, half man and completely devoted to his Mistress. Not a bad guy, either, as long as you showed Ivy proper respect. We’d been crossing paths for one reason or another long before Ivy’d gotten her hooks into him.
“Good to see you, Pinky,” I grinned, tipping an imaginary hat at the Minotaur. “Ivy get around to castrating you yet?”
He gave me as much of a smile as he could muster, thick slabs of ivory showing behind thick rubbery lip. “The boss says that if anything ever happens to me, she’s gonna cut it off and have it turned into a fountain. Biggest cock in Tinktown, Rooster.” I think Ivy kept him around as much for his sense of humor as his muscle. Rooster, I should mention, was a nickname from the old days, before I’d gone respectable.
“That’s only because she hasn’t seen mine yet, big guy.”
Pinkwell chuckled with amusement before wiping the smile off his mug and getting down to business.
“Empty your pockets, Chase. Everything.”
“Hey, it’s me. She knows I’m allergic to bean shooters and I’ve got no beef with her.”
“Yeah, I know, Rooster, but she’s been kind of edgy lately. Trouble brewing. Empty them.” He put out his hand for emphasis. It was big enough to crush my head with.
With a sigh, I began dumping everything into his palm. Wallet, keys, lighter – I’d given up smoking ages ago, but it had been a gift from someone I’d cared about deeply, once upon a time – spare change and, of course, the vial of skittles. He raised his eyebrows at that, looking me hard in the eyes. I simply shrugged nonchalantly in return. Everything else, he returned. The candy, however, he slipped into the breast pocket of his dark grey suit.
“No funny stuff. Like I said, She’s on edge.”
“You take the joy out of life, Pinky.”
“Only yours, Chase. Only yours.” He did his best not to chuckle.
This was the second time in my career that I’d been invited into Ivy’s private rose gardens. They could only be described as tasteful, especially compared to the rest of the place. I should amend that. The garden itself was almost prim and proper. What was going on, however…
Within the tall stone wall, were carefully placed rose hedges, an immaculately manicured lawn, and a patio, set with pristine furniture that spoke of high tea. When I entered, Ivy and some guests, none of whom registered in my head, were involved in the most decadent game of croquet imaginable. I felt my jaw tighten the closer I got.
I should mention that Ivy, as well as being the shrewdest fairy I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, was also among the most beautiful and definitely the most decadent, and let me tell you, fairies were a decadent lot. She was dressed in a gown that seemed to be stitched together starlight and that left very little to the imagination. While that drew my gaze, initially, it was the peg, or rather, the girl tied to the peg that held my attention.
Although no one could hold a candle to Ivy, for a human, she gave her a good run, especially posed naked, hands behind her back and tied to the wooden peg, while her legs were spread wide, held that way by metal wickets trapping her ankles.
“Well, Damn,” I muttered under my breath, recognizing Valentine’s younger sister Olivia staked out like a prize in the middle of the lawn. Finding her had been easy. Discovering that she was, at least for now, Ivy’s personal toy, however, might complicate things.
I almost bumped into Pinkwell when he came to a halt.
“Wait and watch. She doesn’t like to be disturbed in the middle of a game.”
I had no other choice. I waited and watched as Ivy and her guests maneuvered their balls with precision through the wickets, their smiles turning wicked every time they turned their gaze on the girl who was whimpering with what sounded like anticipation.
Finally, Ivy lined up a shot with one of the balls. They weren’t the large wooden one I was used to seeing. These were smaller, about the size of a ripe plum and they seemed to shimmer against the backdrop of the lawn.
The garden was strangely quiet, the sounds of the party within well muted, as she give the ball a soft whack, sending it rolling between the shapely legs of Miss Olivia Day and into her parted lips. I felt a little dirty, but it was impossible not to have to adjust myself covertly at the sight.
“Oh, god,” she murmured, shaking her head from side to side. I was close enough to see her eyes roll slightly back as she began to tremble all over and then writhe against her bonds, moaning louder and louder. She was magnificent. I felt myself grow hard as she began to shake, her head lulling back, mouth agape, clearly on the verge of orgasm.
“You like my new toy?” Ivy asked, gripping my wrist gently so that she could drop one of the balls into the palm of my hand. I’d been so engrossed in watching the girl that I hadn’t noticed her approach. The moment the ball touched my flesh, it began to vibrate, gently at first, tickling gently, and then, slowly building.
“The longer it’s inside her pretty little pussy, the more intense, Franklin. It’s fun to watch her come until she passes out. Almost as much fun as to watch it take her to the brink and….” Ivy muttered something in fairy. An incantation, perhaps, or simply a command. I watched as the ball popped out of the girl, glistening with moisture and roll back to Ivy, coming to a halt at her feet.
“No, please, I haven’t come all evening,” she pleaded, her expression desperate.
“Exquisite, no? This is our third game of five. By the fifth, she’ll be willing to do anything I ask of her. Would you care to play a round?”
I swallowed, shaking my head, not trusting my words. I was here to rescue the girl, although, by the looks of things, she wouldn’t exactly be pleased about that. Still, I had a job to do. Tearing my eyes from her jutting nipples and quivering breasts and the drool that was sliding from the corners of her pretty little mouth, a mouth that would have felt wonderful wrapped around my cock, I went with the direct approach.
“Her sister wants her back, Ivy. That’s why I’m here.”
“To spoil our fun, you mean?” she pouted, her eyes gazing toward Oliva, and then up at mine. I felt myself getting lost in deep pools of lavender. Like all fairies, she had huge, luminous eyes that you could drown in. Lavender, however, was a rarity, even among the fey.
“Yeah, that’s me. You know how much I hate seeing anyone having a good time.”
“She begged me to take part, you know. I let her watch and afterwards, she begged me to let her be the peg-girl. She doesn’t need rescuing. She doesn’t want rescuing.”
“Ivy. It’s business. You know how it is.”
She let loose a sound somewhere between a sigh and a giggle as she stretched herself up on tip-toe and planted a kiss on my chin.
“Make you a deal, Franklin. One round. Winner gets the girl.”
“I’m not leaving without her, Ivy. You know I can’t.”
This time, her voice was a whisper, so quiet that I knew it was for my ears only.
“I’ll even go easy on you, big boy, but only if you play by my rules. Deal?”
I filled my lungs and let the air out slowly. Deals with Ivy were never what they seemed. She had an angle going, if I could figure it out. Thing is, she never went back on her word. She’d as good as promised me that, if I played her way, I could deliver Olivia back to her sister this very night. Seemed like a no-brainer, quite frankly.
“Deal.”
“My rules?”
“Yeah, your rules,” I sighed, feeling uncomfortably like I was missing something here. Turns out, I was.
Ivy’s rules weren’t exactly traditional. Trust me, it’s difficult to concentrate on hitting a small ball while being distracted such as I was. Before we even started, she’d sent Pinkwell to fetch the hot little number from the coat check station. Without ceremony, she stripped down to nothing and planted her cootchie squarely in Olivia’s face, humping what I suspected was her tongue with playful squeals. Olivia didn’t seem to mind one bit, by the looks of things.
“Concentrate on the ball, Chase,” Ivy tittered after watching me stand there and manage nothing more than to lick my lips and swallow uncomfortably.
“Yeah, right,” I managed, having to take a moment to reach into my pants and adjust myself again. Not my finest hour, I have to admit. Still, I managed to get the ball through the first wicket.
“Impressive.” I colored as Ivy ran her hand over my bulge, obviously not referring to my shot.
“Yeah, well, I work out. What can I say.”
“Consolation prize. If you lose, I’ll let Murial entertain you for the evening. Take the sting out of it.”
Murial was, apparently, the fairy being vigorously licked in the middle of the lawn and making all sorts of enticing noises.
“Not planning on losing this one,” I said moments before seeing my ball knocked out of play. Ivy, to her credit, didn’t say a word, although the smile she flashed me spoke volumes.
Doing my best to ignore the obvious sounds of pleasure from the girls, I set up another ball, and, once again, put it through the wicket.
“Watch,” Ivy said, eyes glittering with delight, breasts heaving slightly, her breathing suddenly rough.
“Oh.”
The word seemed to come from both girls simultaneously. I watched, transfixed, as a steam of clear gold liquid began running down Olivia’s chest, making a beeline for her vulnerably displayed pussy. From the sound she was making, she seemed to be doing her best to swallow as much as she could as Murial relaxed her bladder and filled her mouth with piss. Apparently, it was quite an orgasmic feeling, from the not quite human sounds she was making as she ground herself against Olivia’s face, her hand tangled in her hair, holding on for dear life as she shuddered and shook her way through unimaginable bliss.
“I’m curious, Frank. If I just left you two alone out here, you and Olive-“
“Olivia. Her name’s Olivia.”
Ivy shrugged, obviously nonplussed by my correction. “Olive, Olivia, makes no difference. She’s as bad as a nymph. She’d let you fuck that pretty little mouth of hers, Frank. She’d beg for it. Just think about it. Secured to the peg while you shove your thick cock into her wet little mouth, Murial’s piss and cum dripping down her chin, sucking you off until you shoot your load down her throat. It’s what she wants, too. Not to go back to her dreary life with her boring family and her stuck up sister. She’s engaged to marry some pimply boy with tons of money, Chase. She’s being sold off to the highest bidder so that she can die of boredom while popping heirs out of that tight little cunt of hers. Such a waste, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes,” the emerald eyed fairy cried out, her apple shaped ass shaking as she exploded in ecstasy.
“It’s open,” I called out, doing my best to straighten my tie into a semblance of dignity and give my hair a quick finger comb as the dull brass knob on my side of the office turned and in walked the nicest pair of gams I’d ever set eyes on.
“Franklin Chase?”
Her voice oozed of sex or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
“At your Service. What can I do you for?”
“I want to hire your services, Mister Chase.”
“Pull up a chair, Miss…?” Third thing I’d taken notice of was the lack of a wedding band. I should mention the first two; she had legs to die for, not to mention she was stacked to the rafters up top.
She gave me the once over before answering, and I could only imagine what she was seeing; the rumpled suit, disheveled hair, and two days’ worth of stubble on my cheeks. The desk I was sat behind matched my appearance. I made a mental note to hire a cleaning lady and immediately scratched it off the list as another expense I couldn’t afford.
“Day. Valentine Day.” There was a hint of ice in her voice as if she was daring me to crack wise. Have to admit, I had to swallow down several remarks before they left my lips.
“Take a seat, Miss Day, and tell me why you’re here.”
Another glance around the office, followed by a small sigh, gave me a good impression of her reluctance to come into contact with the single unoccupied chair on her side of the desk. Somehow, she managed to keep her expression of disdain a momentary thing as she sat.
“It’s my sister. I think she’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” I did my best to disguise my disappointment at the way she kept her knees pressed together. The sheer black stocking she wore hinted at expensive lingerie. The kind that men like me only dreamed of burying their face in. Even a glimpse would have made me forget about my troubles for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe even longer.
“Skittles,” she replied distastefully, her fingers curling momentarily, drawing my attention to the crimson lacquer she’d coated them with. Strange. She was obviously upper class – that pastels and pearls crowd. You notice things in my business. A dame like her rarely wore something so garish.
“Skittles? Only effects those with a bit of fairy blood.” I held back a chuckle as I played connect the dots. I’d heard this story a million times. A little youthful rebellion. Younger sister out sowing her wild oats and getting in over her head with the fairies. Easy enough job if you knew the right people to pay off and I’d been at this long enough to know all the right people. “Tell me about this sister of yours, Miss Day.”
“I can assure you, Mister Chase, that she’s pure of blood,” Valentine leveled a frosty, blue eyed stare at me.” Bingo. My day was complete. I’d managed to piss off one of the hottest dames I’d ever set eyes on. “Olivia’s been missing for three days. I’m concerned for her safety.”
“Tell me the details.”
oOo
I’m not sure how I managed it, but Miss Day’s icy frown had thawed slightly, even after agreeing to pay me fifty buckaroos an hour plus expenses. I was glad it was going to be an easy case. I bring her sister in, maybe she’d warm up to me. Franklin Chase, eternal optimist. I might even get another smile out of her. Not the only thing I wanted to get a glimpse of; it was impossible not to enjoy the sight of her swishing derriere up until the moment the door closed behind her, the hinges protesting faintly. I made a mental note to have them oiled at the first opportunity. First, however, I had some calls to make.
oOo
Like I’d said, with a little grease, it was easy enough for me to track Valentine’s little sister down. Can’t say I was surprised to find out she’d been hanging around with Ivy’s crowd. Not a bad bunch, although thoroughly committed to hedonism. Sex, booze, and drugs, twenty four seven was how they rolled. I’d have to put a little extra charm on. Not to mention some new duds. Ivy would consider it disrespectful to show up dressed in my usual grey suit and navy tie. She appreciated a little effort, no matter how uncomfortable it might be or maybe because of it. Armed with only my wits and my fists, and an etched glass tube filled with over a dozen of the small round candies that the fairies craved. I’d been holding onto it for a long time in case of an emergency like impressing someone clearly out of my league.
I caught a cab out to Tinktown, as the locals liked to call it, a section of Pratchett out on the eastside, bordered on one side by the lake. It wasn’t a bad place, as long as you knew your way around and were ready to bluff your way through it. Every once in a while life threw you a bone. This case, for example. I had a bad habit of playing the tarnished knight from time to time and this was right up my ally; rescuing a damsel in distress from the ‘evil fairies’ and her own indulgences, never mind that she probably didn’t want rescuing.
I pulled the photo Valentine had provided me from my breast pocket, studying it one more time, not out of need, but as a way to pass the time. It sure as hell beat talking to the cabbie about the weather or the local sports team. Olivia took after her sister in all the right ways. A real looker. Legs that seemed to go on forever, a nice ass, and, while her tits weren’t nearly as impressive as Valentine’s, no one in their right mind would say she didn’t have a nice pair; nice and perky, just like the expression on her face. From the photo, she seemed like a nice ‘kid’, full of summer sunshine unlike her sister’s ice queen persona. Girl like her would be easy pickings for the skittle dealers of Tinktown, especially if, as I suspected, she had any fairy blood running through her veins. I’d noticed enough of a point to Valentine’s ears to guess that, somewhere along the line, the bloodline wasn’t as pure as she’d like to pretend. Even the best of families had a penchant for philandering with the fey from time to time with few exceptions.
Upon arrival, I tipped the cabbie handsomely. In my line of work, it paid to make as many people remember my mug for the right reason as possible. One never knew when catching a cab might make the difference between spending the night in bed or spending it on a slab.
I took a moment to gaze up the serpentine like stairs that led to Ivy’s House of Pleasures. It was magnificent in its gaudiness. Built of marble and quartz it practically shone like a beacon beneath the light of the moon. The way led through gardens that were both wild and over grown and bursting with color. Flowers of every variety fought for dominance behind the wall that protected the small hill upon which the mansion sat, broken only by the wrought iron gate of the entrance. I chuckled, thinking, not for the first time, that it needed a huge flashing neon sign that read ‘Abandon all morals ye who enter here’ over the door. It was Tinktown’s most notorious den of iniquity. One thing that fairies had down pat was vice. It just came to them naturally.
Standing upon either side of the main entry door were a pair of perfectly matched trolls who managed to look both bored and menacing at the same time. Tall, dark, and ugly number one and number two.
“Gentlemen,” I said, putting on my most charming smile as I paused on the marble steps.
“Fifty bucks if yous wants in,” Number One announced unceremoniously.
“Cash,” Number two added, unnecessarily. Trolls weren’t the most imaginative of creatures which made them perfect for door duty.
“I don’t suppose you know where I might find your boss?” I asked, reaching for my wallet and mentally tabulating my expenses for the night so far.
“Miss Ivy’s in da garden, playing croquet,” Number One said, both of them snickering as he slowly counted out the dough I’d handed over. Apparently I wasn’t privy to the joke. If it even was a joke.
“No touching without an invitation. Food is on da house. Drinks and everything else ain’t. No fights and no trouble, or yous get tossed and me and Jasper get to show you a good time.”
“Don’t worry, boys. Not here to cause trouble,” I replied, managing to hide my wince. Unlike the trolls, my imagination was quite vivid, and the last thing I wanted was to be shown ‘a good time’ by the pair.
I recalled the first time I’d ventured through these doors several years and too many cases ago to count and still a little green under the collar. I’d probably stood there for ten minutes straight shocked by my first glimpse beyond the doors of Tinktown’s infamous house of ill repute. It still had that power all these years later, even though I’d known what to expect. Ivy allowed anything and everything salacious to go on under her eaves as long as no one got hurt, unless, of course, that’s what they were here for. In that case, all bets were off. The goings on I’d witnessed had given me an education beyond anything I’d been prepared for; While you see base perversions and abject carnality, she’d giggled, her quiet laughter laced with a sensuality that went straight to my root, if you know what I mean, I see the pinnacle of inspired deviance. She had, I’d conceded to myself more than once, a point.
“Take your coat, sir?” Unlike the pair of brutes outside, the staff inside, both male and female, were handpicked as what could only be described as eye candy. I found myself looking into a pair of emerald eyes and a smile to die for, both belonging to a pair of sculpted breasts tipped by rosy nipples. It took me a moment to realize that she wasn’t actually naked, if you called the nearly invisible diaphanous shift she wore clothing. Only the fact that it glimmered when the light caught it gave any indication to its existence.
“Um, no thanks,” I managed, somehow forcing myself to look her in the face rather than checking to see if the carpet matched the drapes. After all, it’s not every day you get a gander at neon green bush.
“Pants, then?”
“No,” I managed hurriedly, waving her away, her slender fingers already doing their best to unbuckle my belt. Bright neon green and sparkling with lemon colored glitter. I did my best not to blush. “Looking for Ivy. Business.”
“Oh,” she sighed. Either she was a brilliant actress or she was truly disappointed at not being allowed to undress me. Cynical as ever, I chose gifted actress. It doesn’t pay to get caught up in fantasies, no matter how tempting, in this business.
“Second door on the left, down the hall, out back. Miss Ivy is entertaining guests in the rose garden.” She paused, looking almost thoughtful, eyelashes fluttering almost shyly. “You’re that PI, aren’t you? Mister Chase? Candy says you’ve got a nice prick.”
I did my best not to let my cheeks color at her words, mentally going through names and faces. Candy. Yeah, I recalled her. Hair the color of a maraschino cherry and a mouth that was custom made to suck cock. My cock. Sometimes, a guy couldn’t help himself. All work and no play was the best way to get a terminal case of blue balls.
“You tell Candy I said ‘hello’, doll. Any other night, but I’m working a case.”
“Maybe afterwards? Even charge you half price.”
My thoughts went to the screw-top tube in my pocket. If she’d any idea what I was carrying, she’d beg me to plug every hole, twice, for free. Can’t say the thought wasn’t tempting. That said, I was here on a case and I had a rep to uphold, even if no one but me gave half a damn.
“Yeah, maybe later I’ll look you up.”
Calling Ivy’s place of business decadent wouldn’t quite capture the essence. Suffice it to say that it drew the sex obsessed like moths to a flame or, more appropriately, an addict to their drug of choice. The mansion reeked spiritually, and in some cases literally, of deviance and sex. There were acts going on, even here, in the main room that made me blush. It didn’t take much to imagine what went on behind closed doors. The clientele was almost exclusively human, while the ‘hosts and hostesses’ were, without exception, of fey bloodline; full and half-breed fairies, nymphs, satyrs, elves, even a well hung centaur or two. The crowd ebbed and flowed as I made my way through it towards the outer gardens, doing my best to ignore the looks and smiles I was attracting. While my mug wasn’t classically handsome, what with a nose that had been broke once too often and a scar on my left cheek, a memento from nasty little turd who liked hitting women a little too much, I kept fit, and I’ve found that many of the women who passed through the doors here liked guys who were a little rough around the edges. Between the front doors and the back, I’d gotten a total of three offers by dames who weren’t bad in the looks department. No accounting for taste. I was even tempted by one, a redheaded siren who’d forgotten to put on her skirt before leaving the house. I made it a rule to never mix business with pleasure. Too bad. She looked like a wild one. I watched, from the corner of my eye, as she gobbled on a pair of fairy cocks, giving me a salacious wink as she caught me watching. Damn rules. By the time I found the entrance to the rose garden, I was sporting a stiffy that wasn’t about to go away with wishful thinking or even a cold shower.
And, of course, unsurprisingly, I found my way blocked by a pair of muscle bound elves whose idea of modesty was wearing matching loin clothes.
“Party’s behind you,” the taller of the two minced, his arm outstretched gracefully, one carefully manicured fingertip pointing the way back into the main hall.
“Not here to party, Blondie,” I said, doing my best to ignore his near twin as he scowled, recognition dawning in his clear blue eyes.
“Fuck off, Chase. Mistress Ivy’s busy. Why don’t you go molest a tree?”
“Rather take your sister’s virginity, although I’m sure you’ve beat me to it. Let me through. I just want a quick word with Ivy. No trouble, I promise.”
“Private party. You’re not invited.”
I sighed. I really hadn’t wanted any trouble with the pointy eared pricks.
“How about if you let her choose. Just tell her that I’m here to pay my respects. Please?” I gritted my teeth on the last word. Nothing gave me indigestion more than having to pretend to be polite. At least it gained its desired effect. They looked confused as they whispered back and forth before finally coming to a decision.
“No funny stuff, Chase.”
“No funny stuff. Promise.” I kept my fingers crossed, just in case. You never knew, with fairies, when things were going to get slightly out of hand. Or, for that matter, completely out of control.
“Wait here.”
I presented them with my best impression of a sincere smile and waited, whistling softly, and slightly out of tune a little jazz number I’d heard earlier. Ellington, I think. Whatever it was, it was catchy.
Didn’t take long for Blondie to return, sporting a pout.
“Mistress Ivy would be delighted by your company and extends an invitation to join her in a game of croquet.”
“Nancy boy,” I muttered under my breath, knowing that Elves were renowned for their sharp hearing. Just to add insult to injury, I pulled a two-bit piece out of my pocket and, with a flip of my thumb, bounced if off his chest. “For your troubles.” I despised Elves. At best they are egotistical little bastards and It gave a little lift to my stride as I left him fuming in my wake.
I was met at the door leading into the inner gardens by a mountain of flesh that called itself Mister Pinkwell. Half bull, half man and completely devoted to his Mistress. Not a bad guy, either, as long as you showed Ivy proper respect. We’d been crossing paths for one reason or another long before Ivy’d gotten her hooks into him.
“Good to see you, Pinky,” I grinned, tipping an imaginary hat at the Minotaur. “Ivy get around to castrating you yet?”
He gave me as much of a smile as he could muster, thick slabs of ivory showing behind thick rubbery lip. “The boss says that if anything ever happens to me, she’s gonna cut it off and have it turned into a fountain. Biggest cock in Tinktown, Rooster.” I think Ivy kept him around as much for his sense of humor as his muscle. Rooster, I should mention, was a nickname from the old days, before I’d gone respectable.
“That’s only because she hasn’t seen mine yet, big guy.”
Pinkwell chuckled with amusement before wiping the smile off his mug and getting down to business.
“Empty your pockets, Chase. Everything.”
“Hey, it’s me. She knows I’m allergic to bean shooters and I’ve got no beef with her.”
“Yeah, I know, Rooster, but she’s been kind of edgy lately. Trouble brewing. Empty them.” He put out his hand for emphasis. It was big enough to crush my head with.
With a sigh, I began dumping everything into his palm. Wallet, keys, lighter – I’d given up smoking ages ago, but it had been a gift from someone I’d cared about deeply, once upon a time – spare change and, of course, the vial of skittles. He raised his eyebrows at that, looking me hard in the eyes. I simply shrugged nonchalantly in return. Everything else, he returned. The candy, however, he slipped into the breast pocket of his dark grey suit.
“No funny stuff. Like I said, She’s on edge.”
“You take the joy out of life, Pinky.”
“Only yours, Chase. Only yours.” He did his best not to chuckle.
This was the second time in my career that I’d been invited into Ivy’s private rose gardens. They could only be described as tasteful, especially compared to the rest of the place. I should amend that. The garden itself was almost prim and proper. What was going on, however…
Within the tall stone wall, were carefully placed rose hedges, an immaculately manicured lawn, and a patio, set with pristine furniture that spoke of high tea. When I entered, Ivy and some guests, none of whom registered in my head, were involved in the most decadent game of croquet imaginable. I felt my jaw tighten the closer I got.
I should mention that Ivy, as well as being the shrewdest fairy I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, was also among the most beautiful and definitely the most decadent, and let me tell you, fairies were a decadent lot. She was dressed in a gown that seemed to be stitched together starlight and that left very little to the imagination. While that drew my gaze, initially, it was the peg, or rather, the girl tied to the peg that held my attention.
Although no one could hold a candle to Ivy, for a human, she gave her a good run, especially posed naked, hands behind her back and tied to the wooden peg, while her legs were spread wide, held that way by metal wickets trapping her ankles.
“Well, Damn,” I muttered under my breath, recognizing Valentine’s younger sister Olivia staked out like a prize in the middle of the lawn. Finding her had been easy. Discovering that she was, at least for now, Ivy’s personal toy, however, might complicate things.
I almost bumped into Pinkwell when he came to a halt.
“Wait and watch. She doesn’t like to be disturbed in the middle of a game.”
I had no other choice. I waited and watched as Ivy and her guests maneuvered their balls with precision through the wickets, their smiles turning wicked every time they turned their gaze on the girl who was whimpering with what sounded like anticipation.
Finally, Ivy lined up a shot with one of the balls. They weren’t the large wooden one I was used to seeing. These were smaller, about the size of a ripe plum and they seemed to shimmer against the backdrop of the lawn.
The garden was strangely quiet, the sounds of the party within well muted, as she give the ball a soft whack, sending it rolling between the shapely legs of Miss Olivia Day and into her parted lips. I felt a little dirty, but it was impossible not to have to adjust myself covertly at the sight.
“Oh, god,” she murmured, shaking her head from side to side. I was close enough to see her eyes roll slightly back as she began to tremble all over and then writhe against her bonds, moaning louder and louder. She was magnificent. I felt myself grow hard as she began to shake, her head lulling back, mouth agape, clearly on the verge of orgasm.
“You like my new toy?” Ivy asked, gripping my wrist gently so that she could drop one of the balls into the palm of my hand. I’d been so engrossed in watching the girl that I hadn’t noticed her approach. The moment the ball touched my flesh, it began to vibrate, gently at first, tickling gently, and then, slowly building.
“The longer it’s inside her pretty little pussy, the more intense, Franklin. It’s fun to watch her come until she passes out. Almost as much fun as to watch it take her to the brink and….” Ivy muttered something in fairy. An incantation, perhaps, or simply a command. I watched as the ball popped out of the girl, glistening with moisture and roll back to Ivy, coming to a halt at her feet.
“No, please, I haven’t come all evening,” she pleaded, her expression desperate.
“Exquisite, no? This is our third game of five. By the fifth, she’ll be willing to do anything I ask of her. Would you care to play a round?”
I swallowed, shaking my head, not trusting my words. I was here to rescue the girl, although, by the looks of things, she wouldn’t exactly be pleased about that. Still, I had a job to do. Tearing my eyes from her jutting nipples and quivering breasts and the drool that was sliding from the corners of her pretty little mouth, a mouth that would have felt wonderful wrapped around my cock, I went with the direct approach.
“Her sister wants her back, Ivy. That’s why I’m here.”
“To spoil our fun, you mean?” she pouted, her eyes gazing toward Oliva, and then up at mine. I felt myself getting lost in deep pools of lavender. Like all fairies, she had huge, luminous eyes that you could drown in. Lavender, however, was a rarity, even among the fey.
“Yeah, that’s me. You know how much I hate seeing anyone having a good time.”
“She begged me to take part, you know. I let her watch and afterwards, she begged me to let her be the peg-girl. She doesn’t need rescuing. She doesn’t want rescuing.”
“Ivy. It’s business. You know how it is.”
She let loose a sound somewhere between a sigh and a giggle as she stretched herself up on tip-toe and planted a kiss on my chin.
“Make you a deal, Franklin. One round. Winner gets the girl.”
“I’m not leaving without her, Ivy. You know I can’t.”
This time, her voice was a whisper, so quiet that I knew it was for my ears only.
“I’ll even go easy on you, big boy, but only if you play by my rules. Deal?”
I filled my lungs and let the air out slowly. Deals with Ivy were never what they seemed. She had an angle going, if I could figure it out. Thing is, she never went back on her word. She’d as good as promised me that, if I played her way, I could deliver Olivia back to her sister this very night. Seemed like a no-brainer, quite frankly.
“Deal.”
“My rules?”
“Yeah, your rules,” I sighed, feeling uncomfortably like I was missing something here. Turns out, I was.
Ivy’s rules weren’t exactly traditional. Trust me, it’s difficult to concentrate on hitting a small ball while being distracted such as I was. Before we even started, she’d sent Pinkwell to fetch the hot little number from the coat check station. Without ceremony, she stripped down to nothing and planted her cootchie squarely in Olivia’s face, humping what I suspected was her tongue with playful squeals. Olivia didn’t seem to mind one bit, by the looks of things.
“Concentrate on the ball, Chase,” Ivy tittered after watching me stand there and manage nothing more than to lick my lips and swallow uncomfortably.
“Yeah, right,” I managed, having to take a moment to reach into my pants and adjust myself again. Not my finest hour, I have to admit. Still, I managed to get the ball through the first wicket.
“Impressive.” I colored as Ivy ran her hand over my bulge, obviously not referring to my shot.
“Yeah, well, I work out. What can I say.”
“Consolation prize. If you lose, I’ll let Murial entertain you for the evening. Take the sting out of it.”
Murial was, apparently, the fairy being vigorously licked in the middle of the lawn and making all sorts of enticing noises.
“Not planning on losing this one,” I said moments before seeing my ball knocked out of play. Ivy, to her credit, didn’t say a word, although the smile she flashed me spoke volumes.
Doing my best to ignore the obvious sounds of pleasure from the girls, I set up another ball, and, once again, put it through the wicket.
“Watch,” Ivy said, eyes glittering with delight, breasts heaving slightly, her breathing suddenly rough.
“Oh.”
The word seemed to come from both girls simultaneously. I watched, transfixed, as a steam of clear gold liquid began running down Olivia’s chest, making a beeline for her vulnerably displayed pussy. From the sound she was making, she seemed to be doing her best to swallow as much as she could as Murial relaxed her bladder and filled her mouth with piss. Apparently, it was quite an orgasmic feeling, from the not quite human sounds she was making as she ground herself against Olivia’s face, her hand tangled in her hair, holding on for dear life as she shuddered and shook her way through unimaginable bliss.
“I’m curious, Frank. If I just left you two alone out here, you and Olive-“
“Olivia. Her name’s Olivia.”
Ivy shrugged, obviously nonplussed by my correction. “Olive, Olivia, makes no difference. She’s as bad as a nymph. She’d let you fuck that pretty little mouth of hers, Frank. She’d beg for it. Just think about it. Secured to the peg while you shove your thick cock into her wet little mouth, Murial’s piss and cum dripping down her chin, sucking you off until you shoot your load down her throat. It’s what she wants, too. Not to go back to her dreary life with her boring family and her stuck up sister. She’s engaged to marry some pimply boy with tons of money, Chase. She’s being sold off to the highest bidder so that she can die of boredom while popping heirs out of that tight little cunt of hers. Such a waste, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes,” the emerald eyed fairy cried out, her apple shaped ass shaking as she exploded in ecstasy.
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I swallowed, hard, unable to tear my eyes from the girls, eventually giving my head a shake and forcing myself to look away.
“None of my busi-“
I was interrupted by the sound of gunfire. Have to admit, it made my heart skip a beat or two. Ivy, cold blooded bitch that she could be, simply looked annoyed.
“See to it that whoever’s making that racket has a nice funeral, Pinky.”
“I don’t think he’s listening,” I managed before hitting the ground, moments before Pinky did. In my case, it was meant as a way to make myself as small a target as possible. In Pinky’s case, it had more to do with a flattened slug sticking out of his thick skull. He was going to have one hell of a headache when he woke up.
Remember what I’d said earlier about things often getting completely out of control with fairies? People began to scream. Can’t say I blamed them. When a dozen cigar chomping satyrs in pin stripes showed up at a party with tommy guns blazing, there was plenty of reason to be afraid. I wasn’t sure what they were after, or why they were so pissed; knowing Ivy, it could have been just about anything. What I did know was how to take advantage of the hub-bub. It might be the only chance I’d get. Time for ‘the funny stuff’.
Thankfully, Olivia was a petite girl. It made slinging her over my shoulder and running like my pants had caught fire as easy as stealing candy from a baby. Speaking of which, I managed to grab the vial of skittles from Pinkwell’s pocket. Never knew when they might come in handy. The garden erupted in chaos as Ivy showed her true colors, flinging balls of glitter that erupted with devastating results, setting a hapless satyr’s head on fire and searing a huge bald patch into chest fur of another. I felt bad about leaving Murial behind. One of these days the instinct to play the white knight was going to get me drilled full of holes. Today, however, I managed to resist the urge. I just hoped that she had enough sense to make herself scarce.
“Put me down this instant,” Olivia managed a weak protest.
“Not on your life, sister. You’re coming with me. Now behave, or I’ll give the spanking you deserve once we’re clear of this place.”
That seemed to shut her up, although by the sound of her soft gasp, I wondered if maybe she wasn’t warming up to the possibility. Pushing that thought as far away as I could, I made a bee-line for the garden wall. If there was one thing I was good at, it was beating a hasty retreat when things went to hell. With a curse or two, I managed to get both of us to safety, taking a moment to catch my breath, Olivia still flung over one shoulder like a sack of flour.
“You’re rather rude,” she informed me. Whether that had to do with my swearing, the way I’d man-handled her, or the positioning of my hand on her shapely bottom, I wasn’t entirely sure.
“Not a lot of call for being polite in my line of work. Now, shut your maw for a bit. We’re not in the clear yet. Not sure what those goat-fuckers are after, but I’d rather not find out the hard way.”
As if to drive my point home, we heard another burst of gunfire somewhere on the other side of the wall. I felt Olivia tremble against me and immediately felt sorry for her. She was, in some ways, just a kid who’d gotten in over her head. Yeah, a drug addled, sex addicted kid, but I’d always had a soft spot for damsels in distress.
“I know somewhere safe to hole up. It’s close by. You up to taking a bit of a walk, or you want me to carry you?”
“I can manage. I think.” She sounded determined, if unsure.
Rough around the edges I might be, but I knew when and how to be a gentleman. Before we set off, I pulled my coat off and got her into it, giving her at least the illusion of modesty. Poor kid looked shell shocked. Can’t say I blamed her. Must have been a rough night for her, even before the party ended with a bang.
“Come on. It’s safe, warm, and there’s a tub. We can get you cleaned up and fed. Trust me, you’ll feel better once you’ve got some grub in your belly.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice still trembling a little. “I mean it.”
“No problem, Kid-“
“I am not a kid,” she said, petulantly, her mouth forming a pout that made me want to take her in my arms and kiss her like she’d never been kissed before. Damn, she was a looker. “I’m eighteen.”
Giving her a lopsided grin I simply motioned for her to follow me, wisely not saying a word as she slipped her hand hesitantly into mine and held on for dear life as we made our way carefully through the dark, occasionally stumbling over a loose rock or a fallen limb until, finally, we were at the bottom of the hill upon which Ivy’s place sat.
“Couple of blocks to go. You’re doing good, ki- Olivia.”
“Thank you, Mister Chase,” she said, squeezing my hand shyly.
“Don’t mention it. And call me Frank.”
oOo
The night began to grow chilly. Thankfully we didn’t have far to walk. Still, by the time we reached the bungalow that I’d been paying rent on in case I ever needed to go on the lam, she was shivering. It seemed only natural to put my arm around her shoulder and keep her close, so she could absorb some of my warmth. Pulling out my keys, the soft jingle seeming loud in the quiet little neighborhood, I pushed open the door and ushered Olivia in, before shutting and closing the bolt behind us. The Satyr’s hadn’t been after me, but it never paid to take chances.
It wasn’t much. A few pieces of furniture, one lone electric bulb for lighting, an icebox, and a bed, all stuffed into one small room. Most importantly, though, it had indoor plumbing and I’d stowed some spare duds in the closet. Perfect for spending the night. I figured it’d be best to return Olivia to her home first thing in the morning.
“Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up, doll? Should be a robe and some towels in there. Meanwhile, I’m going to pour myself a drink. You’re welcome to join me after.”
“Sure, Frank. That sounds nice.” Her voice, though quiet, at least sounded steady. At least she wasn’t some fragile flower ready to fall apart the first time someone said ‘boo’ to her. I was impressed.
I listened to the water run while I helped myself to some hooch I’d stowed away under the bed. Since I had feminine company, I even dug up a couple of glasses and some ice out of the cooler. Classy dame like Olivia probably couldn’t imagine drinking bourbon straight from the bottle. I made myself at home on the sofa and loosened my tie. I even contemplated kicking off my buster browns, but thought that might be a little off putting to Olivia, strangely enough, especially after what I’d witnessed her do. I tried not to think about it too much, embarrassed at how quickly the memory of her and Murial together made me hard. Glancing towards the bathroom door, I couldn’t help but imagine her sitting naked in the tub, steam rising around her as she lay back and scrubbed some of her more sensitive parts…
“She’s my client’s sister,” I told myself harshly. “And, sweet as she might seem, she’s trouble. Not the kind of girl I want to get tangled up with.”
I poured myself another and did my best to think of something else. I’d almost succeeded when the door opened, framing her dripping wet and very naked body, the shadows barely concealing her womanly delights.
“Aren’t you coming in, Frank?”
Her voice was slightly slurred. I wondered if I’d left some booze in the medicine cabinet by accident. That’s when I spotted the vial in her hand, the one I’d relieved Pinky of before we fled. The one I’d stashed in my coat pocket and forgotten all about until just now. Olivia hadn’t wasted anytime pinching it for herself.
“Give me those,” I said, my voice hardening a little. Last thing I needed on my hands was a drug addled sex nymph with her sights set on me.
“You still want to give me that spanking?”
Yeah, you could hear it in her voice. She was definitely high as a kite. Like I’d guessed, somewhere down the line her family had done a bit of mixing it up.
“You don’t give me that bottle, I’ll do more than give you a spanking, kid.”
“I told you. I’m not a kid. I’m eighteen and I’m horny as hell. Come on, Frank. The water’s still nice and hot.” I swear to god, I would have resisted if she hadn’t reached down and cupped her pussy, making a show of slipping her middle finger in all the way to her knuckles before drawing it out again and sucking it clean, her eyes never once leaving my mug.
“You want me, you know where to find me,” she giggled before retreating to the john and shutting the door behind her.
I did my best to talk myself out of it but, in the end, I did what any other red blooded male would do. Sometimes a man’s going to do what a man’s going to do.
“I like the red ones best, Frank. They make me feel like doing dirty things. Things my stuck up sister would never do. Fun things.”
She was sitting on the edge of the tub, her legs spread wide, one hand stroking her lightly furred pussy, the other palm up, a trio of red skittles forming a triangle against her soft pink flesh. “You should try one.”
“Sorry, Dollface. I’m a red-blooded American. About the most they’ll do is give me a sugar rush.”
That made her pause, her lips turning up in a pretty little pout that made me want to do exactly as she’d asked; turn her over my lap and give her a good, hard paddling. Then, she giggled and did something totally unexpected. Leaning back across the tub, supporting herself on the other rim, she lifted her hips and pushed one of the red candies into her pussy with a cat like grin.
“Sure you don’t want just a little taste?”
A heartbeat later she’d pushed one into her tight little puckered bottom. I felt my jaw drop and prayed that I wasn’t embarrassing myself by drooling.
“I promise not to tell a soul.” She stuck her tongue out at me and placed the third on it, tilting her head back and letting it slide into her mouth, making a show of sucking on it as she spread her legs wide for me, and then closed them again. “Anything, Frank. Anything you’ve ever wanted to do. I won’t say no to nothing. First, you have to spank me. Please?”
The last was delivered with a fluttering of lashes specifically designed to tear away my reservations and crumble my resolve. The little minx new exactly what she was doing, bless her horny little heart.
Though I wasn’t gentle with her, I wasn’t too rough as I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her over to the crapper, taking a seat on the porcelain lid and pushing her down over my thick thighs. God, she had a nice posterior. It was as close to perfect as I’d ever seen.
“You’re one of those girls who likes to be man-handled, Olivia? You like it when your boyfriends treat you a little rough?”
“None of them would dare. They’re such… sticks in the mud. I need a man. A real man to treat me like I deserve.”
Without warning, I gave her ass a good hard smack, the sound almost echoing in the tiled room. Predictably, she let out a cry, struggling against me as I grabbed a handful of her hair to hold her still.
“This is what you asked for. Just delivering the goods.”
I took a moment to admire the pink patch growing on her bottom before giving her other cheek a swift swat.
“Yes,” she hissed, doing her best to grind her pussy against my thigh while I did my best to prevent her, my prick straining against my trousers, hungry for her sweet little skittle filled kitty.
Four more blows, another to each cheek, one to the back of each thigh, had her sobbing quietly for me to stop and alternately begging for me to hit her harder.
“I think that’s enough for now,” I told her, pushing my hand between her thighs from behind so that I could cup her sex. Just as I suspected, she was dripping wet. I took pity on her and did a little exploring, finding her little pleasure button with ease, and stroking it until her breathing became hard and labored once more.
“No, please don’t stop,” she whimpered, doing her best to hump my hand until I withdrew it.
“Not so fast,” You got what you wanted. Now it’s my turn.” Recalling the events of the night, I allowed myself a soft chuckle. Murial had pushed her right to the edge again and again and yet, never once allowed her to climax. No reason she couldn’t wait a little longer. Besides, the skittles in her tight little holes needed more time to dissolve.
“Kid, I almost feel sorry for you, even though you’ve done it to yourself.”
“I’m not a ki-ow!” I smacked her twice for that outburst, leaving her bottom an even brighter pink.
“Sorry Frank,” she finally managed, her voice trembling as she shivered from head to toe, the effects of the high obviously beginning to really hit her. “Please, if I don’t come soon, I’m going to die.” It was said with so much sincerity that I couldn’t help myself. I had to laugh.
“Fine, but we do it my way, doll.”
My way wasn’t what, I was guessing, any of her pimple-faced friends would approve of. My way had her bent over, her legs spread, hanging on to the sink for dear life as I rammed my cock deep into her, pumping her tight little slit. Not that she minded. From the sound of things, I’d say she enthusiastically approved. I’d been randy ever since that green haired fairy had tried to get into my trousers and Valentine Day’s little sister hadn’t helped matters any and yet. She surprised me by somehow climaxing twice before I finally filled her gluttonous pussy with my load.
“Had enough?” I growled into her ear, my full weight against her, trapping her against the heavy sink. It was meant as a rhetorical question.
“Come in my ass, Frank. Be my first.”
There was something about being the first that makes a guy randy again. It didn’t take much coaxing for me to get ‘Little Frank’ going again. We made it out of the head, but not much further, before I had her on hands and knees, my prick buried balls deep into her bottom, immune to her cries of pain, concentrating on her words.
“Fuck me like an animal. Tear me apart like a beast. Harder!”
What can I say? I always tried to give a dame what she wanted. There was nothing gentle about it. For a while I let my inner beast out and fucked her with a vengeance, coming with such force that I drove her to the floor, filling her to overflowing with thick white cum.
“Had enough yet, sweetheart?”
“Just warming up,” she purred, crawling out from under me, reaching for my hand, and doing her best to drag me to the bed.
Laughing breathlessly, I pulled her back against me and kissed her hard, my tongue filling her mouth as I wrapped one arm around her waist, lifting her and tossing her playfully on the mattress.
“Let’s do this right, then.”
Maybe it was the adrenaline still flowing through my body after the violence back at the mansion. Maybe it was simply her unbridled enthusiasm. Whatever the reason, I was insatiable for her. I wanted to ravage her until she’d had enough and, judging by her appetite, that would be far into the next day. Still, I was mortal, or at least my cock was. After blowing another load in her ass, it needed a cigarette break. There were other ways to pleasure a woman, though, and Olivia didn’t seem at all hesitant to experience them. I pulled her down on top of me, her thighs spread wide on either side of my head so I could give her wet, juicy pussy an affectionate kiss, my cum just now beginning to slowly leak from her hot little bunghole.
“Tongue fuck me, Frank,” she moaned, planting her hands on either side of my head as she rolled her hips hypnotically above me, so close that all I had to do was thrust my tongue out to get a good taste of her cum. She smelled faintly like cherry blossoms. I wondered, briefly, if that was a side effect of the skittle lost somewhere in side of her. It made me wonder if her ass tasted of cherries as well. She didn’t seem to mind when I grabbed her cheeks and spread them wide, opening her to me, my cum drooling out slowly as I opened my mouth and drank from her, my suspicion confirmed. I began to suck the cum from her anus greedily, occasionally pushing my tongue past her tight little ring, or simply licking her pucker until her hips began to grind in earnest.
Mostly, her words were incoherent, not that it mattered. She was obviously on the brink of ecstasy as I fucked her tight little hole with my tongue, spearing into her, my own cum smeared on my chin and lips as well as filling my mouth enough that I had to swallow it down every so often until finally, she ran dry, coinciding with yet another cry as she grabbed hold of the bedspread and held on for dear life. I could feel her ass pulsing as she let out of a gush of fluids all over my face, trembling long after her cries had died down and I’d gone back to gently lapping at her dripping cunt like a kitten with a bowl of cream.
“I need more,” she finally breathed, and I couldn’t help but chuckle a little tiredly.
“Willing to work for it, doll?”
“Mmhm,” she managed breathlessly.
“Good girl. Roll over. I’m just going to watch.”
She was, obviously, still riding out her high. She didn’t even hesitate; simply rolled over on the rumpled and stained sheets, spread her legs wide and began fucking herself, first with a pair of fingers, adding a third, and then a forth and finally, with a grunt of orgasmic pain, she somehow managed to get her entire hand inside. I watched in lurid fascination as she pumped her small fist into her pussy. It was so wet that it sounded like she was slurping down a milkshake.
“Damn,” I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight, her legs spread obscenely as she shook her head back and forth. I’m not even sure if, in her state, she was aware of me. I felt myself growing impossibly hard again. As hard as I had been the first time I’d fucked her. Crawling over to her, I ran my hand over the inside of her thighs until my palm was slick with our mixed fluids, and began to jerk myself off, the mushroom shaped head of my prick brushing against her hard little nipple while her moans grew increasingly orgasmic and her hips began to buck uncontrollably. Her long, drawn out cry of passion sending me over the edge. I painted her flesh with my cum, leaving spurts of milky cream on her heaving breasts, along her throat, and all over her lips, groaning as I watched her lick them clean and swallow every drop she could rescue. She was insatiable, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck and pull me to her, kissing me hard, giving me a taste of my own medicine.
“Can I have another?”
I could have played dumb. I didn’t. I knew what she wanted. Another skittle. One of the red ones. I should have refused her, but at that point, if she’d asked me for my last dime, I’d have told her yes. Fumblingly, I managed to fish a couple more from the vial and fed them to her, one at a time, before propping myself up against the head board, against a pillow, watching her, waiting for whatever came next before. I didn’t have long to wait before she was running her hands all over her damp, flushed flesh, gasping and moaning, with each touch as if her nerve endings had grown incredibly sensitive. Curious, I sat up and gently tangled my fingers in her hair, holding her still while I blew on her nipple. She writhed, trembling from head to toe, her bright blue peepers rolling back in their sockets.
I tenderly kissed the tip, giving it a flick with my tongue, before sucking it between my lips. I thought she was having a seizure at first, and then, she giggled and slipped free from my grasp, scrambling to the far end of the bed, where she sat her cute little ass on her heels and regarded me, wide eyed and open mouthed.
“You make me feel amazing,” she whispered, the look on her face reminding me, once again, of how young she was.
“It’s the candy, doll,” I said with a shrug, at which she shook her head violently, her blonde mane covering most of her face when she stilled.
“I never felt like this at Ivy’s.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m special.”
That’s when my conscious did an ugly thing; it reared up and smacked me upside the head. Laugh all you want, but I’d always seen myself as one of those white knight types. Yeah, the armor was a little rusted and tarnished, but usually, I tried to do the right thing. Rescuing Olivia from that mess had been the right thing to do. Doing the nasty with her until she couldn’t see straight, however, might have pushed me into a gray area.
“Listen, Kid, you’re high. Maybe we should cool it, let you get some sleep and then, in the morning, we’ll get you back to your family.”
She giggled. It looked cute on her, dammit.
“Maybe I don’t want to go back. Maybe I like it here. Maybe I could be your dirty little skittle girl,” she grinned, reaching down between her legs and stroking her glistening pink opening while licking her lips seductively. She paused long enough to blow me a kiss before licking her fingers clean of her own cum. God, how I wanted to ravish her until she begged for mercy.
“Kid-“
“Don’t call me that again, Chase,” she spat, her eyes narrowing for a split second before she broke out into a stoned sounding giggle. “Sorry. I’m a bad girl. Maybe you should spank me some more.”
“Maybe I should, doll.”
Quick as lightening, she bounced her way across the mattress and onto my lap, laying herself over my thighs and raised her bottom, presenting an irresistible target.
“Spank me until I come, Frank,” she teased, wiggling her ass at me.
Temptation, thy name is Olivia. With an exasperate sigh, I gave in and began to paddle her milky white ass, at first gently and then, realizing what she wanted, what she needed, with more fervor until she did, indeed, come on my lap, crying out my name as she ground her hips against my thighs, my hand pausing on the globe of her ass so that I could push my fingers into both her pussy and her anus as she went so far over the edge that I wondered if she might never return.
She slept after that, finally worn out by the night’s debauchery. Funny, she looked like an innocent little angel, her cheek on my bare chest, as I tenderly ran my hands through her silky blonde tresses. It hit me, suddenly, how easy it would be to do exactly as she wanted. Hide out here and play house for a few days. It wasn’t just the sex tempting me, either. I could read people pretty well. Behind all that wild, candy fueled crazy was a pretty sweet kid. In this profession, someone like her was a rarity. Sighing, I reached over and turned off the lamp, making myself comfortable, smiling to myself as she let out a soft moan and cuddled against me in earnest.
“Sweet dreams, kid,” I said, sotto voce, managing to kiss the top of her head without disturbing her slumbers.
As for myself, worn out as much as I was by her appetites, I lay there and stared ceiling-ward for upwards of an hour before finally drifting off, my own thoughts in turmoil, trying to put off the harsh reality of the morning after for as long as humanly possible.
oOo
I awoke to the sound of music. I’d forgotten about the phonograph, quite honestly. It had come with the place, as well as a couple dozen recordings, all stored at the back of the closet. Apparently Olivia had had time to do some exploring this morning. With a soft groan, I rolled over, blinking the sleep from my eyes. God, she was a sight to wake up to, moving around the room, naked as a jaybird. Perfect in every way, graceful as she moved along to the music, a scratchy rendition of Frankie’s ‘You’re Getting to be a Habit With Me’ accompanying her. She had a sweet voice, too, if a little off key. I suppose I could have let her know I was up, but I was enjoying the view too much.
“Oh,” she said, obviously startled when she finally turned my way.
A breath taking sight from the front as well as the rear. I felt myself go hard again, much to my chagrin. From the sound of her delighted giggle, she’d taken notice as well. She slid across the floor to the music, her hips swaying seductively, her perky breasts leading the way to the disaster of a bed. Wordlessly, she pushed me back down, her palm flat against my chest, mounting me with a sly smile, lowering herself on my swollen prick. I slid into her easily, surprised both at how wet she was and how incredibly tight. She rode me that way, slowly pumping up and down, her finger pressing against my lips when I started to speak, shaking her head to silence me. Her smile was beatific. How could I resist her charms? I couldn’t. Nor did I want to at that moment. With my hands on her hips, gripping tenderly, I let her ride me to ‘Too Marvelous For Words’, our breathing growing ragged as ‘I’ve Got You Under My Thumb’ began to play.
“Wait, Don’t,” I protested as she lifted herself suddenly from me, leaving my wet cock unsheathed and standing at attention.
“My way,” she laughed, giggling as she repositioned herself so that her gaping slit was brushing my nose as she engulfed my manhood with her eager mouth, taking me in so deep that I could feel her nose digging into my sack and no, I didn’t need a written invitation; without hesitation, I began lapping at her, occasionally plunging my tongue into her dripping wet slit, enjoying the sensation of her shuddering as she lay stretched out against me, our flesh hot and damp as we ground our bodies against each other rhythmically.
I felt myself swell almost painfully, as she slurped away, one hand cupping my ass, her finger massaging my anus. I let out a soft gasp as she slipped it inside of me, heightening my need to unleash gallon upon gallon of cream down her throat.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” she managed, stilling suddenly, my cock lodged in her throat. I thought she was about to come. I was close. A flood of warm, wet fluid suddenly filled my mouth with such force that much of it simply ran down the sides of my face and chin and soaked the sheets beneath it. The dirty little creature had just pissed in my mouth! I would have thrown her off if it hadn’t sort of pushed me over the edge. I came hard, jerking as I shot my load down her throat, her muscles constricting around my prick as she did her best to swallow every last drop. She came too, her hot piss leaking from her, her cunt tightening around my tongue as she shook silently above me for what seemed like hours until, finally, she went completely limp.
oOo
You’d think that, living on the edges of Tinkown, some of it would rub off; that some of that magic would make its way out and give you a fairy tale ending. I knew better. You could dream, but that’s all it was, a dream. Eventually, you wake up and realize that the roses you were smelling are planted in shit. It was like that with Olivia. Somethings aren’t meant to be. Eventually I dragged her back to her sister and collected my fee. Funny thing is, nobody seemed too happy about that. Valentine seemed upset about the scandal it would cause if the news got out that her sister had been spending her time at Ivy’s while Olivia didn’t seem too pleased at having to return to being ‘the prim and proper debutante and fated to marry some fiendishly boring heir to a shipping magnate, a fate, apparently, worse than death. As for me? Much as I hate to admit it, I’d taken a shining to her. Not enough to go and do something stupid, like hire some wheels and head to the border with her in tow, but the thing is, after she’d woken, she’d sobered up and, despite my best intentions, we’d spent the rest of the day, and the following night getting to know each other in and around acting like newlyweds who’d been saving it up for the honeymoon. In other words, I’d committed the cardinal sin of allowing myself to dream a little.
As for Ivy…
I never got the full low down. Probably better off that way. Fairy business was a tricky thing, and something you tried never to get involved with. I did get a note from her about a week later, thanking me for seeing to Olivia’s safety. Seems she’d developed a soft spot for the kid, too. Sometimes the world could surprise even the most cynical of us. It had been hand delivered by the coat girl with the neon green hair. I felt bad about not being able to remember her name up until the moment she gently pushed her way into my office, closed the door behind her, and began to unbuckle my trousers.
“None of my busi-“
I was interrupted by the sound of gunfire. Have to admit, it made my heart skip a beat or two. Ivy, cold blooded bitch that she could be, simply looked annoyed.
“See to it that whoever’s making that racket has a nice funeral, Pinky.”
“I don’t think he’s listening,” I managed before hitting the ground, moments before Pinky did. In my case, it was meant as a way to make myself as small a target as possible. In Pinky’s case, it had more to do with a flattened slug sticking out of his thick skull. He was going to have one hell of a headache when he woke up.
Remember what I’d said earlier about things often getting completely out of control with fairies? People began to scream. Can’t say I blamed them. When a dozen cigar chomping satyrs in pin stripes showed up at a party with tommy guns blazing, there was plenty of reason to be afraid. I wasn’t sure what they were after, or why they were so pissed; knowing Ivy, it could have been just about anything. What I did know was how to take advantage of the hub-bub. It might be the only chance I’d get. Time for ‘the funny stuff’.
Thankfully, Olivia was a petite girl. It made slinging her over my shoulder and running like my pants had caught fire as easy as stealing candy from a baby. Speaking of which, I managed to grab the vial of skittles from Pinkwell’s pocket. Never knew when they might come in handy. The garden erupted in chaos as Ivy showed her true colors, flinging balls of glitter that erupted with devastating results, setting a hapless satyr’s head on fire and searing a huge bald patch into chest fur of another. I felt bad about leaving Murial behind. One of these days the instinct to play the white knight was going to get me drilled full of holes. Today, however, I managed to resist the urge. I just hoped that she had enough sense to make herself scarce.
“Put me down this instant,” Olivia managed a weak protest.
“Not on your life, sister. You’re coming with me. Now behave, or I’ll give the spanking you deserve once we’re clear of this place.”
That seemed to shut her up, although by the sound of her soft gasp, I wondered if maybe she wasn’t warming up to the possibility. Pushing that thought as far away as I could, I made a bee-line for the garden wall. If there was one thing I was good at, it was beating a hasty retreat when things went to hell. With a curse or two, I managed to get both of us to safety, taking a moment to catch my breath, Olivia still flung over one shoulder like a sack of flour.
“You’re rather rude,” she informed me. Whether that had to do with my swearing, the way I’d man-handled her, or the positioning of my hand on her shapely bottom, I wasn’t entirely sure.
“Not a lot of call for being polite in my line of work. Now, shut your maw for a bit. We’re not in the clear yet. Not sure what those goat-fuckers are after, but I’d rather not find out the hard way.”
As if to drive my point home, we heard another burst of gunfire somewhere on the other side of the wall. I felt Olivia tremble against me and immediately felt sorry for her. She was, in some ways, just a kid who’d gotten in over her head. Yeah, a drug addled, sex addicted kid, but I’d always had a soft spot for damsels in distress.
“I know somewhere safe to hole up. It’s close by. You up to taking a bit of a walk, or you want me to carry you?”
“I can manage. I think.” She sounded determined, if unsure.
Rough around the edges I might be, but I knew when and how to be a gentleman. Before we set off, I pulled my coat off and got her into it, giving her at least the illusion of modesty. Poor kid looked shell shocked. Can’t say I blamed her. Must have been a rough night for her, even before the party ended with a bang.
“Come on. It’s safe, warm, and there’s a tub. We can get you cleaned up and fed. Trust me, you’ll feel better once you’ve got some grub in your belly.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice still trembling a little. “I mean it.”
“No problem, Kid-“
“I am not a kid,” she said, petulantly, her mouth forming a pout that made me want to take her in my arms and kiss her like she’d never been kissed before. Damn, she was a looker. “I’m eighteen.”
Giving her a lopsided grin I simply motioned for her to follow me, wisely not saying a word as she slipped her hand hesitantly into mine and held on for dear life as we made our way carefully through the dark, occasionally stumbling over a loose rock or a fallen limb until, finally, we were at the bottom of the hill upon which Ivy’s place sat.
“Couple of blocks to go. You’re doing good, ki- Olivia.”
“Thank you, Mister Chase,” she said, squeezing my hand shyly.
“Don’t mention it. And call me Frank.”
oOo
The night began to grow chilly. Thankfully we didn’t have far to walk. Still, by the time we reached the bungalow that I’d been paying rent on in case I ever needed to go on the lam, she was shivering. It seemed only natural to put my arm around her shoulder and keep her close, so she could absorb some of my warmth. Pulling out my keys, the soft jingle seeming loud in the quiet little neighborhood, I pushed open the door and ushered Olivia in, before shutting and closing the bolt behind us. The Satyr’s hadn’t been after me, but it never paid to take chances.
It wasn’t much. A few pieces of furniture, one lone electric bulb for lighting, an icebox, and a bed, all stuffed into one small room. Most importantly, though, it had indoor plumbing and I’d stowed some spare duds in the closet. Perfect for spending the night. I figured it’d be best to return Olivia to her home first thing in the morning.
“Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up, doll? Should be a robe and some towels in there. Meanwhile, I’m going to pour myself a drink. You’re welcome to join me after.”
“Sure, Frank. That sounds nice.” Her voice, though quiet, at least sounded steady. At least she wasn’t some fragile flower ready to fall apart the first time someone said ‘boo’ to her. I was impressed.
I listened to the water run while I helped myself to some hooch I’d stowed away under the bed. Since I had feminine company, I even dug up a couple of glasses and some ice out of the cooler. Classy dame like Olivia probably couldn’t imagine drinking bourbon straight from the bottle. I made myself at home on the sofa and loosened my tie. I even contemplated kicking off my buster browns, but thought that might be a little off putting to Olivia, strangely enough, especially after what I’d witnessed her do. I tried not to think about it too much, embarrassed at how quickly the memory of her and Murial together made me hard. Glancing towards the bathroom door, I couldn’t help but imagine her sitting naked in the tub, steam rising around her as she lay back and scrubbed some of her more sensitive parts…
“She’s my client’s sister,” I told myself harshly. “And, sweet as she might seem, she’s trouble. Not the kind of girl I want to get tangled up with.”
I poured myself another and did my best to think of something else. I’d almost succeeded when the door opened, framing her dripping wet and very naked body, the shadows barely concealing her womanly delights.
“Aren’t you coming in, Frank?”
Her voice was slightly slurred. I wondered if I’d left some booze in the medicine cabinet by accident. That’s when I spotted the vial in her hand, the one I’d relieved Pinky of before we fled. The one I’d stashed in my coat pocket and forgotten all about until just now. Olivia hadn’t wasted anytime pinching it for herself.
“Give me those,” I said, my voice hardening a little. Last thing I needed on my hands was a drug addled sex nymph with her sights set on me.
“You still want to give me that spanking?”
Yeah, you could hear it in her voice. She was definitely high as a kite. Like I’d guessed, somewhere down the line her family had done a bit of mixing it up.
“You don’t give me that bottle, I’ll do more than give you a spanking, kid.”
“I told you. I’m not a kid. I’m eighteen and I’m horny as hell. Come on, Frank. The water’s still nice and hot.” I swear to god, I would have resisted if she hadn’t reached down and cupped her pussy, making a show of slipping her middle finger in all the way to her knuckles before drawing it out again and sucking it clean, her eyes never once leaving my mug.
“You want me, you know where to find me,” she giggled before retreating to the john and shutting the door behind her.
I did my best to talk myself out of it but, in the end, I did what any other red blooded male would do. Sometimes a man’s going to do what a man’s going to do.
“I like the red ones best, Frank. They make me feel like doing dirty things. Things my stuck up sister would never do. Fun things.”
She was sitting on the edge of the tub, her legs spread wide, one hand stroking her lightly furred pussy, the other palm up, a trio of red skittles forming a triangle against her soft pink flesh. “You should try one.”
“Sorry, Dollface. I’m a red-blooded American. About the most they’ll do is give me a sugar rush.”
That made her pause, her lips turning up in a pretty little pout that made me want to do exactly as she’d asked; turn her over my lap and give her a good, hard paddling. Then, she giggled and did something totally unexpected. Leaning back across the tub, supporting herself on the other rim, she lifted her hips and pushed one of the red candies into her pussy with a cat like grin.
“Sure you don’t want just a little taste?”
A heartbeat later she’d pushed one into her tight little puckered bottom. I felt my jaw drop and prayed that I wasn’t embarrassing myself by drooling.
“I promise not to tell a soul.” She stuck her tongue out at me and placed the third on it, tilting her head back and letting it slide into her mouth, making a show of sucking on it as she spread her legs wide for me, and then closed them again. “Anything, Frank. Anything you’ve ever wanted to do. I won’t say no to nothing. First, you have to spank me. Please?”
The last was delivered with a fluttering of lashes specifically designed to tear away my reservations and crumble my resolve. The little minx new exactly what she was doing, bless her horny little heart.
Though I wasn’t gentle with her, I wasn’t too rough as I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her over to the crapper, taking a seat on the porcelain lid and pushing her down over my thick thighs. God, she had a nice posterior. It was as close to perfect as I’d ever seen.
“You’re one of those girls who likes to be man-handled, Olivia? You like it when your boyfriends treat you a little rough?”
“None of them would dare. They’re such… sticks in the mud. I need a man. A real man to treat me like I deserve.”
Without warning, I gave her ass a good hard smack, the sound almost echoing in the tiled room. Predictably, she let out a cry, struggling against me as I grabbed a handful of her hair to hold her still.
“This is what you asked for. Just delivering the goods.”
I took a moment to admire the pink patch growing on her bottom before giving her other cheek a swift swat.
“Yes,” she hissed, doing her best to grind her pussy against my thigh while I did my best to prevent her, my prick straining against my trousers, hungry for her sweet little skittle filled kitty.
Four more blows, another to each cheek, one to the back of each thigh, had her sobbing quietly for me to stop and alternately begging for me to hit her harder.
“I think that’s enough for now,” I told her, pushing my hand between her thighs from behind so that I could cup her sex. Just as I suspected, she was dripping wet. I took pity on her and did a little exploring, finding her little pleasure button with ease, and stroking it until her breathing became hard and labored once more.
“No, please don’t stop,” she whimpered, doing her best to hump my hand until I withdrew it.
“Not so fast,” You got what you wanted. Now it’s my turn.” Recalling the events of the night, I allowed myself a soft chuckle. Murial had pushed her right to the edge again and again and yet, never once allowed her to climax. No reason she couldn’t wait a little longer. Besides, the skittles in her tight little holes needed more time to dissolve.
“Kid, I almost feel sorry for you, even though you’ve done it to yourself.”
“I’m not a ki-ow!” I smacked her twice for that outburst, leaving her bottom an even brighter pink.
“Sorry Frank,” she finally managed, her voice trembling as she shivered from head to toe, the effects of the high obviously beginning to really hit her. “Please, if I don’t come soon, I’m going to die.” It was said with so much sincerity that I couldn’t help myself. I had to laugh.
“Fine, but we do it my way, doll.”
My way wasn’t what, I was guessing, any of her pimple-faced friends would approve of. My way had her bent over, her legs spread, hanging on to the sink for dear life as I rammed my cock deep into her, pumping her tight little slit. Not that she minded. From the sound of things, I’d say she enthusiastically approved. I’d been randy ever since that green haired fairy had tried to get into my trousers and Valentine Day’s little sister hadn’t helped matters any and yet. She surprised me by somehow climaxing twice before I finally filled her gluttonous pussy with my load.
“Had enough?” I growled into her ear, my full weight against her, trapping her against the heavy sink. It was meant as a rhetorical question.
“Come in my ass, Frank. Be my first.”
There was something about being the first that makes a guy randy again. It didn’t take much coaxing for me to get ‘Little Frank’ going again. We made it out of the head, but not much further, before I had her on hands and knees, my prick buried balls deep into her bottom, immune to her cries of pain, concentrating on her words.
“Fuck me like an animal. Tear me apart like a beast. Harder!”
What can I say? I always tried to give a dame what she wanted. There was nothing gentle about it. For a while I let my inner beast out and fucked her with a vengeance, coming with such force that I drove her to the floor, filling her to overflowing with thick white cum.
“Had enough yet, sweetheart?”
“Just warming up,” she purred, crawling out from under me, reaching for my hand, and doing her best to drag me to the bed.
Laughing breathlessly, I pulled her back against me and kissed her hard, my tongue filling her mouth as I wrapped one arm around her waist, lifting her and tossing her playfully on the mattress.
“Let’s do this right, then.”
Maybe it was the adrenaline still flowing through my body after the violence back at the mansion. Maybe it was simply her unbridled enthusiasm. Whatever the reason, I was insatiable for her. I wanted to ravage her until she’d had enough and, judging by her appetite, that would be far into the next day. Still, I was mortal, or at least my cock was. After blowing another load in her ass, it needed a cigarette break. There were other ways to pleasure a woman, though, and Olivia didn’t seem at all hesitant to experience them. I pulled her down on top of me, her thighs spread wide on either side of my head so I could give her wet, juicy pussy an affectionate kiss, my cum just now beginning to slowly leak from her hot little bunghole.
“Tongue fuck me, Frank,” she moaned, planting her hands on either side of my head as she rolled her hips hypnotically above me, so close that all I had to do was thrust my tongue out to get a good taste of her cum. She smelled faintly like cherry blossoms. I wondered, briefly, if that was a side effect of the skittle lost somewhere in side of her. It made me wonder if her ass tasted of cherries as well. She didn’t seem to mind when I grabbed her cheeks and spread them wide, opening her to me, my cum drooling out slowly as I opened my mouth and drank from her, my suspicion confirmed. I began to suck the cum from her anus greedily, occasionally pushing my tongue past her tight little ring, or simply licking her pucker until her hips began to grind in earnest.
Mostly, her words were incoherent, not that it mattered. She was obviously on the brink of ecstasy as I fucked her tight little hole with my tongue, spearing into her, my own cum smeared on my chin and lips as well as filling my mouth enough that I had to swallow it down every so often until finally, she ran dry, coinciding with yet another cry as she grabbed hold of the bedspread and held on for dear life. I could feel her ass pulsing as she let out of a gush of fluids all over my face, trembling long after her cries had died down and I’d gone back to gently lapping at her dripping cunt like a kitten with a bowl of cream.
“I need more,” she finally breathed, and I couldn’t help but chuckle a little tiredly.
“Willing to work for it, doll?”
“Mmhm,” she managed breathlessly.
“Good girl. Roll over. I’m just going to watch.”
She was, obviously, still riding out her high. She didn’t even hesitate; simply rolled over on the rumpled and stained sheets, spread her legs wide and began fucking herself, first with a pair of fingers, adding a third, and then a forth and finally, with a grunt of orgasmic pain, she somehow managed to get her entire hand inside. I watched in lurid fascination as she pumped her small fist into her pussy. It was so wet that it sounded like she was slurping down a milkshake.
“Damn,” I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight, her legs spread obscenely as she shook her head back and forth. I’m not even sure if, in her state, she was aware of me. I felt myself growing impossibly hard again. As hard as I had been the first time I’d fucked her. Crawling over to her, I ran my hand over the inside of her thighs until my palm was slick with our mixed fluids, and began to jerk myself off, the mushroom shaped head of my prick brushing against her hard little nipple while her moans grew increasingly orgasmic and her hips began to buck uncontrollably. Her long, drawn out cry of passion sending me over the edge. I painted her flesh with my cum, leaving spurts of milky cream on her heaving breasts, along her throat, and all over her lips, groaning as I watched her lick them clean and swallow every drop she could rescue. She was insatiable, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck and pull me to her, kissing me hard, giving me a taste of my own medicine.
“Can I have another?”
I could have played dumb. I didn’t. I knew what she wanted. Another skittle. One of the red ones. I should have refused her, but at that point, if she’d asked me for my last dime, I’d have told her yes. Fumblingly, I managed to fish a couple more from the vial and fed them to her, one at a time, before propping myself up against the head board, against a pillow, watching her, waiting for whatever came next before. I didn’t have long to wait before she was running her hands all over her damp, flushed flesh, gasping and moaning, with each touch as if her nerve endings had grown incredibly sensitive. Curious, I sat up and gently tangled my fingers in her hair, holding her still while I blew on her nipple. She writhed, trembling from head to toe, her bright blue peepers rolling back in their sockets.
I tenderly kissed the tip, giving it a flick with my tongue, before sucking it between my lips. I thought she was having a seizure at first, and then, she giggled and slipped free from my grasp, scrambling to the far end of the bed, where she sat her cute little ass on her heels and regarded me, wide eyed and open mouthed.
“You make me feel amazing,” she whispered, the look on her face reminding me, once again, of how young she was.
“It’s the candy, doll,” I said with a shrug, at which she shook her head violently, her blonde mane covering most of her face when she stilled.
“I never felt like this at Ivy’s.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m special.”
That’s when my conscious did an ugly thing; it reared up and smacked me upside the head. Laugh all you want, but I’d always seen myself as one of those white knight types. Yeah, the armor was a little rusted and tarnished, but usually, I tried to do the right thing. Rescuing Olivia from that mess had been the right thing to do. Doing the nasty with her until she couldn’t see straight, however, might have pushed me into a gray area.
“Listen, Kid, you’re high. Maybe we should cool it, let you get some sleep and then, in the morning, we’ll get you back to your family.”
She giggled. It looked cute on her, dammit.
“Maybe I don’t want to go back. Maybe I like it here. Maybe I could be your dirty little skittle girl,” she grinned, reaching down between her legs and stroking her glistening pink opening while licking her lips seductively. She paused long enough to blow me a kiss before licking her fingers clean of her own cum. God, how I wanted to ravish her until she begged for mercy.
“Kid-“
“Don’t call me that again, Chase,” she spat, her eyes narrowing for a split second before she broke out into a stoned sounding giggle. “Sorry. I’m a bad girl. Maybe you should spank me some more.”
“Maybe I should, doll.”
Quick as lightening, she bounced her way across the mattress and onto my lap, laying herself over my thighs and raised her bottom, presenting an irresistible target.
“Spank me until I come, Frank,” she teased, wiggling her ass at me.
Temptation, thy name is Olivia. With an exasperate sigh, I gave in and began to paddle her milky white ass, at first gently and then, realizing what she wanted, what she needed, with more fervor until she did, indeed, come on my lap, crying out my name as she ground her hips against my thighs, my hand pausing on the globe of her ass so that I could push my fingers into both her pussy and her anus as she went so far over the edge that I wondered if she might never return.
She slept after that, finally worn out by the night’s debauchery. Funny, she looked like an innocent little angel, her cheek on my bare chest, as I tenderly ran my hands through her silky blonde tresses. It hit me, suddenly, how easy it would be to do exactly as she wanted. Hide out here and play house for a few days. It wasn’t just the sex tempting me, either. I could read people pretty well. Behind all that wild, candy fueled crazy was a pretty sweet kid. In this profession, someone like her was a rarity. Sighing, I reached over and turned off the lamp, making myself comfortable, smiling to myself as she let out a soft moan and cuddled against me in earnest.
“Sweet dreams, kid,” I said, sotto voce, managing to kiss the top of her head without disturbing her slumbers.
As for myself, worn out as much as I was by her appetites, I lay there and stared ceiling-ward for upwards of an hour before finally drifting off, my own thoughts in turmoil, trying to put off the harsh reality of the morning after for as long as humanly possible.
oOo
I awoke to the sound of music. I’d forgotten about the phonograph, quite honestly. It had come with the place, as well as a couple dozen recordings, all stored at the back of the closet. Apparently Olivia had had time to do some exploring this morning. With a soft groan, I rolled over, blinking the sleep from my eyes. God, she was a sight to wake up to, moving around the room, naked as a jaybird. Perfect in every way, graceful as she moved along to the music, a scratchy rendition of Frankie’s ‘You’re Getting to be a Habit With Me’ accompanying her. She had a sweet voice, too, if a little off key. I suppose I could have let her know I was up, but I was enjoying the view too much.
“Oh,” she said, obviously startled when she finally turned my way.
A breath taking sight from the front as well as the rear. I felt myself go hard again, much to my chagrin. From the sound of her delighted giggle, she’d taken notice as well. She slid across the floor to the music, her hips swaying seductively, her perky breasts leading the way to the disaster of a bed. Wordlessly, she pushed me back down, her palm flat against my chest, mounting me with a sly smile, lowering herself on my swollen prick. I slid into her easily, surprised both at how wet she was and how incredibly tight. She rode me that way, slowly pumping up and down, her finger pressing against my lips when I started to speak, shaking her head to silence me. Her smile was beatific. How could I resist her charms? I couldn’t. Nor did I want to at that moment. With my hands on her hips, gripping tenderly, I let her ride me to ‘Too Marvelous For Words’, our breathing growing ragged as ‘I’ve Got You Under My Thumb’ began to play.
“Wait, Don’t,” I protested as she lifted herself suddenly from me, leaving my wet cock unsheathed and standing at attention.
“My way,” she laughed, giggling as she repositioned herself so that her gaping slit was brushing my nose as she engulfed my manhood with her eager mouth, taking me in so deep that I could feel her nose digging into my sack and no, I didn’t need a written invitation; without hesitation, I began lapping at her, occasionally plunging my tongue into her dripping wet slit, enjoying the sensation of her shuddering as she lay stretched out against me, our flesh hot and damp as we ground our bodies against each other rhythmically.
I felt myself swell almost painfully, as she slurped away, one hand cupping my ass, her finger massaging my anus. I let out a soft gasp as she slipped it inside of me, heightening my need to unleash gallon upon gallon of cream down her throat.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” she managed, stilling suddenly, my cock lodged in her throat. I thought she was about to come. I was close. A flood of warm, wet fluid suddenly filled my mouth with such force that much of it simply ran down the sides of my face and chin and soaked the sheets beneath it. The dirty little creature had just pissed in my mouth! I would have thrown her off if it hadn’t sort of pushed me over the edge. I came hard, jerking as I shot my load down her throat, her muscles constricting around my prick as she did her best to swallow every last drop. She came too, her hot piss leaking from her, her cunt tightening around my tongue as she shook silently above me for what seemed like hours until, finally, she went completely limp.
oOo
You’d think that, living on the edges of Tinkown, some of it would rub off; that some of that magic would make its way out and give you a fairy tale ending. I knew better. You could dream, but that’s all it was, a dream. Eventually, you wake up and realize that the roses you were smelling are planted in shit. It was like that with Olivia. Somethings aren’t meant to be. Eventually I dragged her back to her sister and collected my fee. Funny thing is, nobody seemed too happy about that. Valentine seemed upset about the scandal it would cause if the news got out that her sister had been spending her time at Ivy’s while Olivia didn’t seem too pleased at having to return to being ‘the prim and proper debutante and fated to marry some fiendishly boring heir to a shipping magnate, a fate, apparently, worse than death. As for me? Much as I hate to admit it, I’d taken a shining to her. Not enough to go and do something stupid, like hire some wheels and head to the border with her in tow, but the thing is, after she’d woken, she’d sobered up and, despite my best intentions, we’d spent the rest of the day, and the following night getting to know each other in and around acting like newlyweds who’d been saving it up for the honeymoon. In other words, I’d committed the cardinal sin of allowing myself to dream a little.
As for Ivy…
I never got the full low down. Probably better off that way. Fairy business was a tricky thing, and something you tried never to get involved with. I did get a note from her about a week later, thanking me for seeing to Olivia’s safety. Seems she’d developed a soft spot for the kid, too. Sometimes the world could surprise even the most cynical of us. It had been hand delivered by the coat girl with the neon green hair. I felt bad about not being able to remember her name up until the moment she gently pushed her way into my office, closed the door behind her, and began to unbuckle my trousers.
