Bayou Fairy Tale

by Lex Chase

  With the house, and likely the nearby properties, safe from Taylor’s destructive magic, he was free to continue his princess tantrum and stomp in an angry path like a child denied candy. The bubble bobbed and rolled like a human-size enchanted hamster ball, squeaking as it rubbed against the coffee table and side chairs.

  “Are you done?” Corentin asked coolly from the doorway to the bedroom. He crossed his arms, a towel around his waist.

  Taylor went silent as he watched Corentin. His safety bubble popped with a happy plink.

  Corentin leaned on the doorframe and narrowed his eyes.

  Taylor swallowed, then cleared his throat. “I got a letter from Andersen’s,” he muttered, gesturing to the notice in question on the coffee table. He sighed and then threaded his hand into his hair, tugging at the roots. An anxious habit he’d picked up from Corentin. “They transferred Atticus to a new facility and got him a conversion therapy psychologist.”

  Corentin’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “Who the fuck authorized that?”

  Taylor crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

  That was all Corentin needed to know, as he clearly understood. He ran a hand over his face and puffed a sigh. “That fucking jackass. It’s not going to help him.”

  “I know!” Taylor snapped, throwing his arms out. “I wish there was something I could do. We were given joint power of attorney.” Taylor flopped onto the couch. “But it seems he found a way to bypass all of it.”

  Ringo and Honeysuckle nodded to each other, and then they took flight, finally settling on opposite arms of the couch.

  “Well…,” Ringo said, glumly.

  “We all know your family does have friends in high places…,” Honeysuckle added.

  Taylor grumbled. “Even with all of the Hatfield line being intermarried princesses, despite that scandal, Dad’s played the game enough that no one wants to listen to a Curseless princess. And….” He hesitated and looked over at Corentin.

  “Whatever.” Corentin snorted. “You’re not Curseless, and we proved that. Fuck it if I’m a damned Cronespawn. We have pixie chaperones living with us. You have Zee. It’s all complicated, but we make do. We always have.”

  Taylor chuckled despite himself. “Ah yes, Zee. Destroyer of Property every time I come.”

  Corentin folded his arms behind his head. “Well, Honeysuckle and Ringo are going to be awhile with making dinner. And I think you can see the asteroid shower down on Chapel Rock.” He gave Taylor the unmistakable glance.

  Ringo nodded quickly. “Very busy. Really super busy. Long time. Honeysuckle demands perfection.”

  Honeysuckle smiled and snapped her fingers, conjuring jeans and a T-shirt for Corentin. “I hear the asteroids are lovely this time of night. You can even see the rift in the Milky Way with the naked eye.”

  Corentin pressed his hand over his mouth to keep from outwardly laughing.

  “What’s your hurry? Here’s your hat!” Ringo said, shooing Taylor to the door.

  Taylor hesitated. “But I don’t have a hat.”

  Corentin took Taylor by the wrist and led him out the door. He kept his grip as they walked down the gravel driveway. “Come on, we’re keeping the asteroids waiting.”

  Taylor laughed, and then Corentin tossed him over his shoulder, giving Taylor’s rear a firm pat. He squealed in a tone fitting a princess.

  “Rogue! Brigand! Unhand me at once!” Taylor said in a snooty tone.

  Corentin strolled on into the night as Taylor dangled helplessly like a fresh kill. “Yeah, yeah. You like it.”

  “You’re not supposed to know that,” Taylor whispered harshly.

  “I kept notes,” Corentin purred. “Thorough notes.”

  Taylor squeaked and curled his toes. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  AS TAYLOR gnawed on the bandanna tied over his mouth, he glared at Corentin. This was not exactly what he had in mind when it came to getting some.

  Oh, Corentin got some. As in he got Taylor’s clothes and then proceeded to bind Taylor’s wrists and feet, followed by setting him beside the fire pit. Corentin then left him alone on the shore of the Chapel Rock campground and went for a night swim.

  As Corentin floated about in the lake, Taylor bit angrily into the bandanna. His butt was cold. His nose itched. His shoulders ached. He was getting a bit hungry.

  Zee stirred, roused by Taylor’s growing irritation. Maybe if he used Zee to get Corentin’s attention, Corentin would realize what a shit he was being and come and fuck him already.

  Taylor nodded to himself and made an attempt at a roar through the bandanna. The trees swayed with the pulses of Zee’s power. Leaves showered over him and the lake rippled.

  After another ten minutes of no reaction, Taylor chomped on the bandanna. He scowled at the water. From the light intrusion from the fire pit, Taylor could barely make out Corentin in the lake.

  “I’d like to think it’s the anticipation that makes it better,” Corentin growled low over Taylor’s shoulder.

  Taylor stiffened as Corentin turned him around to face him, like Taylor was nothing more than a ragdoll. Taylor’s eyes widened as he was eye to dick with Corentin’s erection. Corentin stood before him, naked, wet, and apparently ready, or had been ready for a while. Taylor bit down on the bandanna in annoyance.

  Corentin smirked and stooped to tug off the bandanna. “You have a problem with patience.”

  “And you have a problem with pointing your pig-sticker where it doesn’t belong,” Taylor snapped.

  Corentin stood over Taylor and petted his hair as if he were nothing more than a beast he had captured. “Oh, I think you know where it belongs,” Corentin said as he took himself in hand. After a few slow pumps, he presented his length to Taylor’s mouth. “Well?”

  Taylor flushed and bowed his head. His belly quivered. He looked up at Corentin and then down at Corentin’s cock. Raising his bound hands, Taylor clasped his fingers at the base. He leaned in, gave a tentative lick at the head, and then chuckled when Corentin made an approving grunt.

  Taylor wet his lips, then lapped along Corentin’s length. He looked up at Corentin and scowled. “And if I suck you off, you’ll let me go? The king will surely reward you for your kindness.”

  There wasn’t a king, and Taylor wasn’t being held for ransom, but getting in the act was all part of the ambiance.

  “We’ll see, princess,” Corentin said as he ran his fingers through Taylor’s hair. “If you do a good job, you’ll get a reward.”

  Taylor snorted and fought not to break character. It seemed Corentin also knew how their whole act was headed straight into the realm of cheesy porn. It didn’t last long until they both burst out laughing.

  “This isn’t going to suck itself, you know,” Corentin said, pointing to his cock.

  “But I sucked you off this morning,” Taylor said, indignant. He turned up his nose. “You just like it too much.”

  Corentin chuckled and dragged his fingernails over Taylor’s cheek. “If I recall, I had to finish you off or else Zee was going to implode the truck or something.” He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “You have no idea how much it gets me off to see you glaring up at me.”

  Taylor shrugged with an overdramatic sigh. He shivered at Corentin’s words. Corentin was right, though, and Taylor really did enjoy it. Maybe a little more than Corentin liked receiving one.

  “Okay, okay,” Taylor said in half mockery. He turned back to Corentin’s cock and failed at hiding his hungry grin.

  “That’s what I thought,” Corentin said, catching Taylor’s gleeful expression. He hissed a long note of approval when Taylor took him into his mouth and gave a small suck.

  Tingles traveled up Taylor’s spine, and he forgot about his discomfort and annoyance as he savored Corentin down his throat. His arousal made itself known, and Corentin hummed at the sight.

  “Getting a little excited?” Corentin purred.


  Taylor moaned in agreement around a mouthful of cock. He pulled away, and long trails of saliva clung to his lips. “If I please you, will you release me?” he said, pouting. He assumed the playful act once again.

  Corentin smirked. “I never knew a princess so eager to cooperate. You’re a naughty one. I might have to punish you instead.”

  Taylor’s eyes rounded in fear. “No, I’ll be good.” He kissed the tip of Corentin’s length. “You’ll see.” He resumed his work and watched Corentin’s expression as he took a breath and then swallowed Corentin into his throat.

  “Fuck.” Corentin groaned as they watched each other.

  Taylor’s cock ached for release, and he renewed his sucking and slurping on Corentin’s. His lashes fluttered as Corentin bit his lip. His end was close, and Taylor encouraged it with a quickened rhythm.

  “That’s a naughty princess,” Corentin warned him.

  Taylor watched as Corentin’s breath hitched, and then he shot his cum into Taylor’s mouth. Taylor drank greedily, swallowing as much as he could. When Corentin pulled away, he gave a plaintive mewl, begging Corentin for the rest of it. “I want more,” Taylor whined.

  “Oh, with that you’re going to get more,” Corentin said as he pulled Taylor to his feet. He led Taylor to the nearby bench and took Taylor over his knee.

  Taylor blinked as he lay on his stomach in Corentin’s lap. “No, you’re not—” His words were cut short with a small squeak when Corentin gave a single sharp spank to his rear. His face flushed, and then Corentin gave another. The slap of his palm on Taylor’s flesh echoed through the trees.

  “Princesses must be taught lessons,” Corentin said, his tone firm. He spanked twice, and Taylor gasped with the sting.

  “Fuck you,” Taylor growled. He was rewarded in quick order with two cracks on his rear. The heat on his skin against the cool night air made his cock swell painfully. Corentin might enjoy Taylor’s blowjobs, but Taylor took too much enjoyment in being taken over Corentin’s knee. Many of Taylor’s unending lists of princess things were a mixture, from annoying to exciting. Being punished like a bratty princess was definitely high on excitement.

  “Such a filthy mouth,” Corentin said, unamused, and then smacked again. Taylor yelped at the warmth. “You’re going to get fucked soon enough.”

  With three more sharp cracks of Corentin’s hand across Taylor’s rear, Taylor whimpered as his balls tightened. “I’m gonna cream,” Taylor cried.

  “Oh yeah?” Corentin spanked him with three strikes, and Taylor screeched as pleasure tore through him.

  Taylor didn’t last a second longer. He spilled himself across Corentin’s knee, moaning with each pulse of release, and Zee rumbled within him.

  The trees swayed overhead with Zee’s force emanating from Taylor.

  “Did I say you could come?” Corentin asked in a firm tone. “Did I?”

  “N-no…,” Taylor said sadly. “It just happened.”

  “It just happened,” Corentin repeated Taylor’s words in spite. “Wait until the king hears you come under a huntsman’s touch. Do you know what the king would do to you?”

  He pulled the nearby knife from behind the log, and a breath hitched in Taylor’s throat at the sound. Knives weren’t a part of the act. Ropes and dorky lines, maybe a handful of sex toys, but knives were a no.

  “Don’t move,” Corentin said and pressed a hand to Taylor’s lower back, holding him steady.

  There was a flick of metal through the silk of the rope, and Taylor’s legs parted as the bonds at his feet fell away. Corentin nudged Taylor off his knee and helped him sit up against the log. Taylor narrowed his eyes and frowned as Corentin stabbed the hunting knife back into the dirt behind the log.

  “How else was I going to untie you in a hurry?” Corentin said with a grin.

  “Not cool.” Taylor growled and then chomped on his lip to hide the start of a smile.

  “Then why are you smiling?” Corentin asked.

  Taylor cussed under his breath. Of course Corentin would catch him smiling that he liked it anyhow. “Just warn me next time.”

  “As you wish, princess,” Corentin whispered and Taylor shivered with the words warming his chest.

  “Spread your legs,” Corentin commanded as he stood. He effortlessly returned to the scenario.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Taylor asked angrily, falling back into character.

  Corentin stepped away to rummage through his pack, and Taylor caught the glint of a foil condom wrapper and a travel bottle of lube. Corentin tossed the bottle and then snatched it out of midair. He gave Taylor a wolfish smile. “Be a gentleman, of course.” Corentin returned and dropped to his knees between Taylor’s legs.

  Taylor blushed as red as his freshly spanked rear when Corentin uncapped the bottle, then squeezed a generous swirl of the clear liquid onto his fingers. Taylor jerked his hips and fought to wiggle away from Corentin’s hand.

  “No! Don’t,” Taylor mock-fussed as Corentin spread the cold lubrication around Taylor’s needy entrance. Taylor gasped as the shocks of pleasure ran over his skin. They watched each other as Corentin worked Taylor open. Moaning with each breath, tears filled Taylor’s eyes. “Yes, yes, please…,” he croaked and pushed against Corentin’s fingers. He shrieked when Corentin’s index and middle slipped inside.

  “Not protesting as much now, are you?” Corentin purred as he moved in a gentle rhythm inside Taylor.

  “Mmmno.” Taylor pressed his lips together and rocked his hips against Corentin’s hand. “Deeper,” he whispered in a long sigh, and Corentin obliged by slipping in up to his knuckles. Taylor crowed with the throb of exquisite need.

  “Princes don’t fuck princesses like that, do they?” Corentin said, then chuckled.

  Taylor licked his lips as he guided the pace against Corentin’s hand. His thighs shuddered with the effort. “Princes don’t fuck princesses like huntsmen do,” Taylor whispered and tossed his head back with a strangling gasp. “Zee’s waking.”

  The trees shivered under Zee’s rumblings, and the lake bubbled with the oncoming tempest. Corentin had led him out to Chapel Rock on purpose. Taylor could lose control of his own body, as well as of Zee, without the damaging consequences of obliterating kitchen appliances, vehicle tires, or dairy joy windows.

  Corentin laughed under his breath and then ripped open the foil packet with his teeth. “You will learn to tame her,” he said as he rolled on the condom. “Just as I will tame you, dragon princess.”

  Taylor let loose a needy cry as Corentin readied himself at his entrance. “Hurry,” he begged. “Fuck me….”

  Corentin smirked, and with a deft shove, entered Taylor with little resistance. Taylor shrieked at the intensity and fullness.

  “I’m not going to fuck you,” Corentin said as he bucked into Taylor. “I’m going to ruin you.”

  From Taylor’s lips, Zee roared.

  Chapter 7: Bedtime Story

  May 4

  The Devereaux-Hatfield Home, Sullivan, Maine

  AS 3:25 a.m. crept steadily on to 3:30 a.m., Corentin blinked awake and noticed the blue flickering glow from the upstairs den from the safe shadows of the darkened bedroom. Taylor was up again, and Corentin frowned because he was trying to numb himself enough to sleep. They rarely kept the same sleep schedule, Corentin had learned. Taylor’s insomnia was a growing concern, and it was baffling how he functioned on fewer and fewer hours of sleep.

  Corentin listened as Ringo and Taylor chatted among themselves. Ringo seemed eager about something, and Taylor would grunt on occasion.

  Corentin pushed from the bed. He’d never quite fallen asleep to start with, and his thoughts ran in a muddled mess about the old journal. He had hidden it earlier in the secret compartment behind the medicine cabinet, in an attempt to keep it from himself. Out of sight, out of mind, and it would be out of his thoughts next Monday night. It was already Wednesday morning, and if he could resist the pull of the journal’s magic, h
e’d forget it was ever there.

  Corentin’s strategy had already unraveled. The journal was calling to him in hissing whispers and groans. Strong dark magic soaked through the pages. He assumed it was his own magic. He’d learned through his notes that the power waned, and the more he used it, the more he was slowly killing himself. When he had met Taylor, he’d been on the last seconds of his borrowed time. He didn’t expect their true love’s kiss on Mackinac Island to save his life. The curiosity clung to him, pulling him toward the bathroom. Corentin yanked himself away, escaping the journal’s near physical grip.

  He rubbed his bleary eyes and instead headed to the den, then remained quietly in the doorway.

  Taylor slumped on the couch with his legs spread in a manner most unbecoming a princess, even a male one. His PJ bottoms rode low on his hips, and the strap of his tank top—six sizes too big for him—hung off one shoulder around his forearm. Corentin tilted his head to better survey the surroundings. Ringo sat on Taylor’s head, likewise mindlessly staring at the TV.

  The latest syndicated rerun of Shark Tank had captured Taylor and Ringo in its capitalist spell. Taylor leaned forward and took his Super Big Gulp of chamomile tea from the coffee table. Ringo shifted to keep his balance on Taylor’s head as he leaned back while taking several long sips through the purple straw.

  “Oh, oh,” Ringo said and pointed at the TV. “We should buy that. A shammy that cleans any surface. We should get that!”

  Taylor sighed and held out his hand to the TV. “See? Look. Even Mr. Wonderful ducked out. It won’t work.”

  Ringo huffed. “Oh pish, Mark Cuban will pick it up. He has so much money to burn, he tosses stacks of hundreds in the fireplace to keep him warm and cozy at night.”

  Taylor pointed as if to an idea and smirked. “My bet’s on Lori. She’d sell a fuckton on QVC.”

  They waited as the shrewd investors bickered over the fate of the poor product designer’s invention.

  Ringo wiggled on top of Taylor’s head. “Five bucks says Cuban takes it.”