Fable of Happiness (Fable 1)

The satiny pants clung to her legs as she pulled them to her waist. The outline of her spine, flanked with powerful muscles, flexed as she slipped a white T-shirt over her head, followed by the gray sweater.

The clothes were a little tight, adding to the sex appeal of her strength.

With her nakedness now covered, her shoulders slipped back with more confidence. She slowly turned to face me with balled hands and a cool look in her eyes. “Thank you for the clothes.” She licked her lips. “Are there any spare amenities I can borrow? A toothbrush? Hairbrush? Maybe some face moisturizer?”

I stayed where I was on the bed. I couldn’t get a read on this girl. She refused to be afraid of me. She remained polite despite her entrapment. She obeyed me when I commanded pleasure, and apart from her moment of emptiness inside the bathroom, she’d shown no signs of breaking.

She would’ve made a good member of our team...before the end came.

The Fable household would’ve benefited from her more than most. She would’ve been worth any price if she continued to protect her soul and trade her body for things that benefited her survival.

“Did you hear me?” she asked quietly. “Any spare toothbrushes at least?”

“Vanity. Bottom drawer.” I waved toward the bathroom. “There’s a kit.”

“A kit?”

“Spare items that a guest might require during their stay here.”

Her eyes flared. “So, you do have guests? What is this place? Some type of Air BnB?”

I scowled. “I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s a third-party program that allows homeowners to rent their properties to vacationers. Kind of like a hotel, but you stay in their personal homes.”

That sounded godawful. “You sleep in someone else’s bed?”

She shrugged. “Well, yes. Isn’t that the same principle of a hotel? Multiple people sharing the same bed? The sheets are changed, but the mattress is the same.”

My skin crawled, and I shot off the bed I was sitting on.

Fables wasn’t that sort of place. We weren’t a venue for hire. Randoms couldn’t just pay to stay here. To be invited meant you were elite. To have a permanent bedroom here meant you were untouchable.

“Get the kit and finish whatever you need to do. I’ve wasted enough time on you.” Crossing my arms, I lowered my voice to a snarl, “Hurry.”

She backed up, keeping her eyes on me as she crossed the bedroom to the bathroom. With a wary look, she darted inside. The sound of a drawer opening, followed by the zipper of a leather bag echoed back.

Tracking her on silent feet, I leaned against the doorframe as she unwrapped a toothbrush, squirted a new tube of paste onto the bristles, and almost sank in relief as she tasted minty freshness.

I never looked away as she cleaned, spat, rinsed, then applied the expensive moisturizer to her face before quickly running a brush through her shower-damp hair. My cock never deflated, and by the time she was done, I danced on the decision to make her serve me again.

She was nice and clean. Skin dewy fresh and lips just begging to be messed up with my cock.

Placing everything neatly back in the bag, she zipped it up and went to put it in the drawer.

“Keep it,” I said, pushing off the door and wincing at the pain between my legs. “Take it with you.”

“Take it where?” Her eyes met mine as she spun to face me.

“Where do you think?” I stepped toward her. “Your accommodations, of course.”

She balked. “Wait...you’re taking me back down into the cellar?”

I laughed with ice. “You didn’t think I’d upgrade you to this room, did you?” Waving my arm at the opulence and the many escape routes, I shook my head. “And give you the keys to run? This isn’t secure. We both know that.”

Even with a leash, she could possibly get free if I wasn’t here to supervise.

I wasn’t prepared to take that chance.

She huffed. “I won’t run. Didn’t I already prove that to you?”

“You merely proved your limits. You let bodily functions get in the way of your ability to stay strong.”

And you don’t?

The fact that I couldn’t touch my own cock. That I could handle anything—literally any-fucking-thing—yet I still couldn’t get past my aversion of self-sex. If I was braver, I had the answers inside my messed-up skull. Somewhere inside me, I knew why that was. But if I had my way, I would never remember.

Fury blazed through her gold-hazel eyes. “You’re saying you find me weak?”

“I’m saying you need to get over such things if you’re to survive here.”

“And that turns you on? Watching me use the bathroom in front of you?” Her lips turned into a sneer as she glanced at my stiff erection. “Any other fetishes I should be aware of?”

“Not a fetish. Just a part of life.”