by Reed James
“Hey, man,” Evan grinned. “I see it worked out with you and Corrigan.”
Gunnar's best friend was a huge, Black man, a big grin on his face. He gave Gunnar a big hug, clapping him on the back. “Way to go. I knew you'd two would be great together. She's better for you than Maeve.”
“Is that why you took me there?” Gunnar asked, pushing away from his friend.
“Man, Maeve was bad for you. I mean, look, you were jumping into marriage. You barely knew the girl. But I see you and Corrigan are looking close. And, I mean, Maeve is wanted by the police. Akiko told me the entire front of the sorority house was blown away.”
“Did Akiko see anything?” Akiko was Evan's Japanese girlfriend. She had been at Maeve's bachelorette party.
“Naw, she was sleeping upstairs. The party got too wild for her. I'm not surprised. Maeve is such a slut.”
Gunnar's fist clenched. He wanted to deck Evan. Instead, he sat down at his desk. Corrigan sat beside him, and Evan on the other side. “I can't believe you tried to break me and Maeve up,” Gunnar hissed at his friend.
“Hey, man. You're my best friend. I'd do anything to protect you.”
“And he was right,” Corrigan whispered. “Evan's been talking to me about Maeve. I told him about her threats.”
“Is that why you were so dead-set against my proposal?”
Evan nodded. “I couldn't tell you without you getting pissed. It was clear that girl had some crazy hold on you.”
Gunnar frowned. Is that why you bought Corrigan the iron poker? Did she know it would be effective against Maeve?
He opened his mouth to ask Corrigan, but Professor Webster began her lecture.
~ ~ ~
Corrigan smiled. Evan was playing his part perfectly. Every word that came out of his mouth chipped off another sliver of Gunnar's fragile love for the Pixie. Bit by bit, it would crumble away until there was nothing left.
And then he'll be all mine.
Dominating Evan and transforming him into her familiar had been the perfect decision. Evan had used his position of trust to maneuver Maeve and Gunnar into the proper place. He was a good hound, far more biddable than stubborn Gunnar.
Corrigan's mind drifted. Once Gunnar was broken and fully chained, she would begin to train him to hunt for the Balance. It had to be near. The Balance was one of the most powerful objects in all of Creation. Recently, something had disturbed the Equilibrium between Summer and Winter—some deceitful plot of Titania—and the Balance had chosen Gunnar to be its wielder. It was ready to resurface. If Corrigan could deliver the Mortal Champion and the Balance to Mab's service, Winter would have a great advantage against Summer's plot.
But the Balance could appear as any object. It had been cunningly hidden by Cinniuint, a Fey unaligned with either Court. Cinniuint was a weaver of fates, a spinner of destiny. She had glimpsed some future that compelled her to take the Balance and hide it. But an object that powerful couldn't stay hidden forever.
Gunnar was perceptive. Time and time again he had broken through Corrigan's glamours. When he was driven and focused, he could perceive through almost any disguise. Gunnar would quickly find the Balance once he knew what to look for.
Corrigan squeezed her thighs together. She couldn't wait for tonight. Gunnar had grown comfortable with bondage yesterday. She would add some light pain. A nice crop to stripe his broad chest. Soon, when he called her Mistress, he would actually mean it and more of his soul would be hers.
~ ~ ~
Students passed by her rose bush all day long. Maeve didn't care.
None of them saw her. None of them even bothered to stop and admire the beauty of her roses.
Maeve stared up at the endless, gray sky. Not once did the blue skies peak through. She was covered in gray, surrounded by filth. Her wings were caked in mud. Maeve doubted she had the strength to free herself.
She just wanted it to end. She just wanted to the great, empty pain in her heart to be filled. Gunnar hated her. Despised her. Feared her.
The sour smell of muck filled her nose, overpowering the sweet scent of her roses. Worms wiggled through the mud around her, brushing her arms as they rooted sightlessly in the muck. The world grew darker as night fell.
Gunnar and Corrigan walked by a second time. The Lean Sidhe's triumphant smirk drove back Maeve's spirit. She retreated even farther into herself. The world was slowly vanishing. The Pixie began to fade away.
She had nothing to cling to. Gunnar was Corrigan's now.
“Umm, it's going to be so much fun to tie you up,” Corrigan purred. “I know how much fun you loved it yesterday.”
“Yeah,” Gunnar answered. “It made me forget about...her.”
Maeve let go of her life. Gunnar's tone was full of such repulsion. There was no point in clinging on. Her fingers faded, growing hazy. She would let her essence disperse into the rose bushes. She could live on as some half-glimmer of intelligence buried in the bushes' roots. The fading spread up her fingers, her flesh blurring away as her despair ate her.
“Are you still wallowing?” a harsh voice demanded.
Professor Webster stood beside her bush, the woman's beautiful, mature face staring down, her lips pursed into a tight smile. Every gray hair was pulled up into a tight bun. The professor shook her head in disgust.
Maeve blinked. Can she see me?
“Children these days. I think lying in the muck for what, two days, is enough self-flagellation. Have some self-respect, Maeve.”
Maeve's flesh grew solid as a stab of indignation floated through her.
“Pouting and moping is such an unbecoming trait. It so self-centered.” A mocking tone crept into the professor's words. “Oh, poor me. I messed up. I did something bad. No one likes me. No one will care if I just crawl up into a ball and die. It's pathetic, Maeve.”
“Go away,” Maeve whispered. “I just want to be alone.”
“Then don't sulk where I have to walk by you every day. So get your scrawny butt up and face your problems instead of being a whiny, self-important brat.”
Maeve grit her teeth. “I have every right to grieve.”
“Oh, yeah? What happened?”
“I lost him?”
“Yes. I saw that hussy had laid claim to him today.” Professor Webster tisked loudly. “Now how did you go and lose him? Last time I saw that boy, he was so besotted with you.”
“She...she tricked me,” sobbed Maeve. “I thought I knew what she was up to, but I walked right into her trap. She used my own passion to turn Gunnar against me.”
Maeve trembled, her hands going to her face as her tears poured out.
“I messed up. I had him. I had this amazing man, and I let Corrigan destroy everything we had become. I didn't think. I was just so angry.”
“Yes. Nothing good ever happens when reason is abandoned.”
“I want so desperately to go back to that night, to do it all over. But it's too late. It'll never be the same. He hates me.”
“Does he?”
“Yes!” Maeve shrieked, her voice cracking. “So nothing matters! I'm worthless. I had one thing to do and I failed. I just had to love him and guide him.”
“So love him and guide him.”
“It's not that simple.”
“No. Love rarely is. But you're not going to accomplish that lying in the mud. Stand up and go get your man back.”
“How?”
“Because he loves you. Oh, child, I saw that in him the night you were stabbed. Maybe things are rough between you, but it's not the end of the world. Stop being a silly little girl and be a woman.”
“A silly, little girl?” A flash of anger rushed through Maeve. “How am I being a silly, little girl?”
“You're wallowing in the mud,” sneered the old woman. “A little girl goes and hides when things don't go her way. I bet there was a part of you that kept hoping Gunnar would come here and find you. That he would rescue you from your despair and make everything roses and sunshine aga
in.”
Maeve opened her mouth, then frowned. She sat up, her wings fluttering. Each time she had glimpsed Gunnar, there had been a part of her hoping he would walk over and speak with her. That his love would be strong enough to overcome Corrigan's trick.
“Well, a woman is strong enough to stand up when things go wrong. A woman doesn't wait for the world to come to her. She goes out and seizes it. A woman fights for what she wants. So who do you want to be, Maeve? A silly, stupid, little girl that lost her boyfriend. Or do you want to be a woman that fights to get her man back?”
“A woman,” Maeve said, standing up.
“Then go be one.”
Maeve nodded her head. I love Gunnar. I should have the strength to fight Corrigan for him. I can overcome the damage she has inflicted.
Professor Webster walked off as Maeve began her transformation, assuming her human disguise. Her gossamer wings retracted, and the angular beauty of her face softened into more human, feminine beauty. The roses parted before the naked Pixie. She strode out into the dark Green.
I need clothes.
Maeve headed for her sorority.
Chapter Four: Voyeur's Pain
“What are you thinking, Gunnar?” Akiko hissed, walking up to him as he waited for Corrigan.
“You know what happened at the sorority,” Gunnar answered. “I...I can't be with Maeve.”
I want to be with Maeve, but...
“So you hook up with that trollop?” The sneer in Akiko's voice made Gunnar wince . “It's disgusting, Gunnar.”
“My man's doing what he has to,” Evan said. “Leave off him, Akiko.”
“You think this is a good idea?” Akiko glared up at her larger boyfriend. Next to Evan, Akiko's petite body looked almost child-like, though no child had the porcelain beauty of her face. She planted her hands on her hips, her face growing stony.
“Yeah. I never thought Maeve was good for him.”
Akiko's eyebrows furrowed. “What has gotten into you lately, Evan?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, don't give me that innocent look. Where do you go after school?”
“I just have stuff to do,” Evan shrugged.
“It's not...” Akiko's face fell.
Gunnar swallowed, his cheeks burning as Akiko's implication hung in the air.
“You know I love you, saintiful.” Evan's dark finger caressed her cheek. “It's just...I have stuff to do. It's important.”
“So important you can't tell me?”
“What's going on? I thought you were mad at Gunnar? Why are you taking it out on me?”
Akiko paused, then glanced at Gunnar. “You need to find Maeve, Gunnar, and make things right. She must be so hurt by your break up. Especially if you're with...her.”
“Her?” Corrigan purred, striding up to Gunnar and Akiko.
“Hi, Corrigan,” Evan smiled, his eyes lighting up. His knees bent and he half lowered himself before pausing.
“What are you doing?” Akiko muttered.
“Um, my shoe's untied.”
“No, it's not.”
“Yeah, you're right. I thought it was.” Evan forced a laugh. “Well, um, you've said your peace, but I don't think Gunnar's going to listen. Corrigan's a much better—”
Akiko let out a frustrated groan. “Come on,” she said, seizing her boyfriend's hand. “You and Gunnar are both idiots.”
“Where are we going, saintiful?”
“To talk.”
Gunnar winced as Corrigan took his arm, then a flush of shame went through him. Why am I even with Corrigan? It's so soon.
“Let's go home and play,” Corrigan whispered in his ear, her sultry purr warming his blood.
Why am I so weak? Gunnar let Corrigan lead him away.
Corrigan was eager, almost dragging Gunnar on the walk to his apartment. Corrigan had a happy smile on her face, her voice bubbling with joy. Her fingers were cold on his arm, but their touch still inflamed his blood.
“I have such a naughty idea for tonight,” Corrigan purred. “I can't wait to tie you up. Umm, it's so sexy to watch your strong body helpless before me.”
This isn't right. Why does she want me helpless. But yesterday had been hot. Gunnar couldn't fight his desire. It was simpler. I won't let Corrigan touch my heart. I'll just have fun with her.
Gunnar and Corrigan walked through the Green. Gunnar tried to keep his eyes from looking at the rose bushes. But he was drawn to them. Maeve was still in there, lying in despair. Professor Webster was nearby, her arms folded as she also stared at the bushes. Gunnar barely noticed his history professor, his thoughts tangled around Maeve.
Why did you have to be a monster?
Corrigan yanked on his hand, pulling him along after her. Gunnar didn't fight her.
The walk to his apartment took only a few more minutes. When they arrived, Corrigan dragged him upstairs, her ass writhing in her tight jeans. She pushed him up against his apartment door before he could open it, pouncing on him like a hungry lioness. Gunnar groaned, her predatory kiss sealing on his lips. He shuddered, letting Corrigan's tongue glide through his mouth.
His cock hardened as she writhed against him. Gunnar groaned, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass through her tight jeans, pulling her closer to him. He needed to take her. He needed to have her. She inflamed his blood.
Gunnar shoved his hands into his pocket, pulling out his keys. Fumbling as he kissed her, he managed to get the key into the deadbolt, twist, and pop the door open. They fell inside, stumbling and clutching each other.
Gunnar ripped off her shirt. She wore no bra. Those perfect breasts didn't need support. They were round and heavy, almost unnaturally perky.
He froze, gazing at them. He had never seen a pair of breasts that big that didn't have some sag to them unless they were full of silicon. But hers were real. He squeezed them just to make sure.
“What's wrong?” Corrigan demanded, her face suddenly angular in the light, almost inhuman, her golden eyes narrowing, becoming like cat-slits.
Gunnar blinked, and she looked normal. He shivered, a cold draft blowing in through the door.
Her face had almost seemed like the strange, alien beauty Maeve had been that night. Gunnar remembered that brief moment where she hadn't looked terrified. Her face had an inhuman beauty even twisted by heart-wrenching grief.
Corrigan was on him, her kiss banishing his thoughts. Her sharp fingernails scraped across his skin as she pulled off his shirt, her hands exploring his powerfully-muscled chest. She moaned her appreciation, her teeth nipping his nipples.
Gunnar groaned as her hands slid down and unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them down his thighs. She found his cock, giving his hard shaft a squeeze. “Slaves kneel before their Mistress,” she purred, her thumb brushing the tip.
“I'm not your slave,” Gunnar whispered as she squeezed a little harder.
“Not yet,” she purred, turning and pulling him to the bedroom by her cock, her perfect breasts bouncing and jiggling, crystals of ice beading on the tips of her nipples.
He blinked again, shaking his head.
“Stop drifting into your thoughts,” Corrigan purred, her cold fingers brushing the tip of his cock. “Or Mistress won't take care of you.”
“Sorry,” Gunnar muttered. “I think I'm just...tired.”
“Umm, you don't get off that easily.” She pushed him down on the bed. “Stretch that body out. Reach your arms up. You know the position.”
Gunnar watched her jiggling breasts as she grabbed the lace ribbon. He sighed, stretching out his arms for her. Corrigan's golden eyes were hungry on his body. She purred, her hips shaking in her tight jeans.
“You're perfect,” she purred. “A living statue. My mighty, submissive warrior.”
“Thank you...Mistress.” Gunnar shuddered as he said the word. His heart tightened. A surge of guilt washed through him. “But...maybe...”
Corrigan touched his lips. “Quiet, slave. You just lie there, and I'll make sure
you enjoy every second of it.”
“Yes...” he didn't want to say the word.
She pinched his nipple, her hungry face stern. “That's not how you address me.”
Gunnar's face grew angry. “Listen, Corrigan—”
“Relax,” she laughed. “It's just a game. But please, try to mean it when you call me Mistress.” Her eyes grew pouty, her arms pressing her breasts together.
“Fine,” Gunnar groaned. “Mistress.”
The squeezing on his heart increased, a cold pain shot through him for a moment.
“Umm, that's better.” Corrigan reached out, binding his arm to the bed post. “I love it when you surrender. Bit by bit, you'll come to enjoy serving me. I can be a very pleasurable mistress.”
She tied the ribbon tight about his wrist and bedpost. Gunnar didn't fight her, his cock rising hard before him. She's not really my Mistress, Gunnar reminded himself as she leaned over, her breasts dragging across his heavy chest to tie up his other arm.
“Perfect,” she purred, standing up and shimming out of her jeans. Her scent brushed Gunnar's nose, his cock throbbing harder. Her pussy's aroma was intoxicating, trickling into his body, his tight heart beating faster.
She bent over, rooting around, waggling her perfect ass at Gunnar, her pussy peaking out between her thighs. An icy draft blew through the room. Ice tinkled. Gunnar shivered. Corrigan straightened, an icy flail in her hand, steam rising off the blue-white strands.
He blinked, and it was just a plain, leather whip, straight out of some bondage porno. “Why do you have that?”
Corrigan arched her eyebrow at him, smacking the flail into her palm. The leather cracked loud. “Bad slaves are disciplined,” she purred. “You keep forgetting to address me properly. Maybe this will help.”
The flail hissed. The leather cracked across his chest. Cold, numbing pain flared, prickling through his body. Gunnar groaned, his arms jerking at the lace. The pain reached his cock, and Gunnar throbbed, his back arching.
“Sorry, Mistress,” he groaned.
