The water sloshed over the bucket’s rim with every heavy step you took up the stairs. You didn’t often venture around the Castle, usually sticking to the kitchens and the rooms you kept tidy, but you were a good cleaner, and the head housemaid needed you to do a good thorough cleaning of the main hall.
You dusted off the two knights by the fireplace and picked off beads of hardened wax from the candles that had dripped over the ornate wood of the winding staircase.
A trusty broom in your hand, you swept the tiled floor of dirt and muck, trying to overlook the obvious blood stains that you would need to scrub hard at to get off the surface.
You paused a moment, listening for any buzzing of bugs or heavy footsteps. The staff was instructed to stay quiet, to not bother the ladies of the Castle, and often you just slipped in and out, doing your duty and getting out of their way as fast as possible.
But you had heard they were out today, or at least nowhere near you. The Castle was extensive anyway, you figured you'd hear them if any of the four women did approach.
So you began to hum as you worked, methodically sweeping until the white tiles began to shine a little brighter.
The rug would need a proper vacuum later, but that wasn’t your duty this time. You wiped down the coffee table and tidied the chairs, the dust clearing away as you hummed and sang softly under your breath.
When all the loose dirt was removed you hiked up your skirt to bunch around your knees so the cold floor wasn’t as tough on you, and began scrubbing with a soaped-up brush.
The song got a little louder as you scooted around the hall, cleaning as you went. You added words as you polished the stairs, and were completely oblivious to the matriarch standing, hidden in the shadows of the balcony above, listening to your bewitching voice.
Your voice wasn’t necessarily the best, but you could hold a tune. Often when you were working nearby, Alcina would stop to take a break from work and just listen to your singing, whether or not she knew the melody.
It made her smile as you hummed and worked, not to mention that you were in fact one of the better staff they had around here, obedient and diligent. She wanted to keep you around, and so Alcina had told her daughters not to ever take you down for blood-draining in the dungeons, which made them amused, but she simply ignored their wide eyes and maniacal grins.
At least they left you alone. And right now, they were hunting on the castle grounds somewhere, and if she remembered rightly, you were also the only maid up here on this floor right now.
Something stirred deep inside Alcina and she was tempted to throw you over her shoulder, take you up to her room and lock the door until you were exhausted by her efforts.
But instead, she just wanted you nearer this time. The seduction would have to wait. You were scrubbing on the lower stairs, and she drifted down, silently. So enthralled by the mindless, rhythmic cleaning of your job and your focus on your song, you didn’t notice the Lady until the hem of a creamy dress appeared in your vision.
You shrieked and nearly fell back off the stairs at the sight of her. You stood and righted your skirts, bowing your head, the brush clutched in your head as you trembled with this sudden shock.
“G’evening, m-my lady,” you said, stepping to the side so she could get down the rest of the stairs. But she didn’t. Instead, her gloved fingers tapped the railing, and you felt her golden eyes pierce through you before sweeping along the hall, inspecting your work from where she stood.
“Good evening,” she said, her rich voice rumbling through your body, “I see you’ve done a fine job of cleaning this hall.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” you said, eyes still on the floor. Did she hear you singing? You desperately hoped not.
“I need you upstairs. Bring your bucket,” she said, before turning without another word.
You were frozen to the floor for a moment, looking up as her tall, intimidating figure turned and walked back up the stairs.
“Come along, pet,” she hummed when she noticed you weren’t following immediately. That seemed to snap you back and you hurried to bring your trusty bucket. You stayed a respectful distance behind her, shuffling quietly and trying your best to not look up at her curvaceous figure walking ahead of you. Your cheeks flamed at the thought.
You entered one of the studies that seemed to be hardly ever used, and the first thing you noticed was the smell of old blood. It was explained, obviously, by the stains of blood on the floor and rugs.
“My daughters can get a bit.. wild sometimes,” Alcina said, “do what you can to clean here. I’l just be going through some documents.”
“Of course, my lady,” you said. She walked towards the desk at the other end of the room, and you set about scrubbing down whatever surface your brush could handle. You wondered why she had to work in here as you cleaned, it was much more stressing to have her so near, scrutinizing your work.
“And hum that song you were singing down below, little songbird,” Alcina added without looking over at you. You blushed, songbird?
You were now losing focus on the cleaning at hand because you tried to keep the tremble out of your song as you tried to sound as good as possible for her, hoping you didn’t sound too terrible.
“Don’t be shy, dear,” Alcina said, “I enjoy hearing you sing.”
Your fingers shook as you gripped the brush again, this time willing yourself to do as she said, scrubbing and singing and humming and scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing. She didn’t look over at you the entire time you worked, for which you were eternally thankful.
A loud cackle and a call exclaiming ‘Mother!’ announced the three daughters had returned, probably with some poor, thrashing creature in their clutches that they had snatched from the nearby forestry.
Alcina rose from her spot and left the room, and your racing heartbeat had a moment to calm down. She had said nothing else about your singing, and didn’t indicate you had any other duties left to do after you cleaned what you could.
When Alcina came back to the study, both the smell of old blood and the sound of your voice were gone.
The Smut Chapter
thank you for all the love so far!!! It really makes my day.
Here is the SMUT <3
Over the next few days, Lady Dimitrescu barely caught a glance of you. Either you were overworking yourself, or avoiding her. The thought made her bristle with annoyance, mostly aimed at herself. Had she scared you off?
Down below in the servants’ quarters, you tried your best not to pay attention to the rush of heat that went through your body every time you remembered Lady Dimitrescu’s lingering gaze on you.
You hadn’t seen her, or frankly you had tried avoiding her. You kept to your duties, overworking yourself, distracting yourself, wondering if what you felt was unholy. Wondering if she felt the same.
“Lady Dimitrescu has asked you to clean her personal study,” the head housemaid said one day in the kitchens. You paled a little, nearly dropping the plate you were drying off.
“You’re to go there after dinner tonight.” She was absent-mindedly polishing some of the silverware at the counter, not noticing how you had reacted. “The Lady will run you through what’s needed.”
“She.. she’ll be there?”
“Yes, of course," she replied, “she’d never let any of us in by ourselves. I would know.”
She definitely would. It was only her that would ever be allowed in Lady Dimitrescu’s study to clean. But she didn’t seem to mind it was you who was on that duty tonight... you dreaded the massive list of things you would probably have to do. Was this a punishment?
“Clean yourself up before you go.” She eyed your dirtied apron and ashy skirt. “No use if you're just going to mess up what you’ll be cleaning.”
And so, with fresh clothes and your face scrubbed clean of grease, you made your way up through the castle levels to get to the study. On the way, you heard faint buzzing down the hall.
You turned to see dark robes disappearing around the corner, and suddenly the dimly-lit hallway was a lot more ominous and foreboding than before. Hurrying down the direction you needed to go, you tried not to drop any of your supplies as your heart-rate picked up.
Just around the corner, you kept thinking, just a little further and-
You shrieked, shock coursing through your body in a split second as Miss Daniela appeared right in your face when you turned the last corner. Her bloodied mouth split into a wide, cunning smile at your reaction, your face flushing red in embarrassment and sudden fear.
“Oh, now that was fun, wasn’t it?” she cackled, circling around you with the curiosity of a feline, far too close for comfort, “I haven't seen you up here before.”
The water in your bucket had managed to spill over the side in your jump, and you felt your stockings and shoes soaking through. You grimaced at the feeling and Miss Daniela could only giggle.
She tugged at your hair like a bratty younger sibling as she disappeared in a swarm of insects that buzzed around your head, calling after you,
You felt the water squish in your shoes as you walked the last few steps towards the intimidating double-doors of Lady Dimitrescu’s personal study.
It wasn’t anything like the last study you had cleaned. It felt massive to you- everything must have been custom made for her. The chairs, the desk, the bookcase. You’d have to do some real climbing to clean all the nooks and crannies in here.
But it was the piano in the centre of the room that really caught your eye. It was dark- but not quite black. There was a rich, deep red sheen to it, and just like everything else in the room, it seemed to tower above you.
Lady Dimitrescu was already in her nightly attire- a long-sleeved nightgown. It was a cream colour, as always, and you wondered if the light was a little stronger, how sheer the fabric would be..
“Ah, there you are.” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you straightened up a little. “Come closer, little songbird. Into the light.”
The nickname made you blush furiously, though you did as she asked. So she hadn’t forgotten you. Was that supposed to be a relief? The squish of your shoes made you grimace, and from the way her eyes trailed down, she heard it as well.
“Did it rain on the way here?” she asked, dryly. You looked down at the carpet, clutching your supplies. You were leaving footprints behind. You’d definitely have to clean that thoroughly.
“I- I spilled some water on the way here. I.. tripped,” you said. You didn’t think ratting out her daughter would put the Lady in a good mood.
Her expression didn’t prove to you that she believed you, but she let it be. She picked up a small sheet of paper with listed chores and handed it to you without much thought.
You expected an explosive list of unending duties, but you were quite surprised with the sparse instructions. Dust the bookshelves, sweep under the piano, scrub the floors...
This was one of the few rooms in the entire castle that looked, quite frankly, immaculate. Everything seemed to have a place already, so you really didn’t need to do much at all.
You quietly set to work without any further commentary, and didn’t catch the way Lady Dimitrescu watched you from her desk when you came into her peripheral vision. The letters from Mother Miranda didn’t register in her mind as she listened to you work, hoping for the sound of your voice. Then she heard you hum, lightly, only for you to catch yourself mid-dusting, and stop altogether.
When you got to the piano, you needed to move the bench to get under and sweep, but when you pushed against the heavy piece of furniture, it screeched against the floor, startling both of you.
“Sorry,” you squeaked, barely audible. You looked up and caught her deep yellow eyes staring at you intently, and something stirred deep inside you.
“I didn’t know you played,” you commented once you realized Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t going to say anything to break the awkward silence. In fact, she adored seeing you so flustered and shy, and didn’t want it to end.
“I don’t often,” she eventually replied. She stood up from her desk, and you nearly snapped your neck keeping your eyes on hers as she rose above you.
You hurried out of the way as she came to sit on the bench. Lady Dimitrescu lifted the fallboard and a soft, light chord rung out as she pressed down on the keys.
“Can you match pitch?” She was testing some of the sound in various chords, simple but effective. You watched her fingers dance, only to realize you had not seen her without gloves before now. The nails were painted in a dark, deep red. Her fingers were long and pale, and the skin on the backs of her hands were marred with little silvery scars. You wondered what they tasted like.
She gestured for you to come sit next to her, and you clambered up on the bench to kneel on the cushion. Lady Dimitrescu played a little more as you hummed along with the chords.
“Sing a song for me, pet,” she said, without glancing towards you. Her hands stilled to give you a moment to think, but your brain was only short-circuiting. It was like all of a sudden, every known song had disappeared from your memory.
Then a finger tapped your chin and lifted your head up to gaze into her eyes, and you sighed in contentment at the physical touch.
Her eyebrow quirked a little, as if barely registering the sound you made.
“No? No ideas?” she asked. Her perfume was that much denser when close to you, and it overwhelmed you. You could only weakly shake your head, nerves churning in your stomach.
“Well, we can’t have that,” she hummed. “I still want to hear you, little one.”
“I’m sorry...” you began, but she tutted. She’d make you sing in a.. different way. She wasn’t going to let you go after all those agonizing days without getting to hear you properly.
The hand that was holding your chin dropped down to your thigh. Your eyes were still adoringly glued to her face as she dropped the fallboard back over the keys. It nearly made her blush.
The world surged around you as you were suddenly lifted up from your seat. You were put on top of the piano, facing Lady Dimitrescu, and she nudged your legs apart so she could lean forward a little more. Your eyes were level with hers now, and you caught a flash of her white teeth as she smiled, lovingly, but devilishly.
“Do you think you can sing well?” she asked, one hand wrapping around the entirety of one of your ankles. You immediately shook your head. The dampness of your feet and legs caught her attention, and she tutted again.
“Off,” she ordered, leaning away, before wiping her hand on her dress. You hurriedly did as she asked, tugging down your still-wet stockings, ripping a little bit of the fabric, but you couldn’t mind with the way Lady Dimitrescu was eyeing you.
You clamped your thighs together, and she definitely didn’t miss that. Her hand went back to wrap around your ankle, now fabric-free. The other reached out to cup the side of your jaw, trailing down and wrapping around your neck, squeezing lightly for less than a second. Then it lowered even more and undid the top button of your dress.
“Still want to stay and sing for me, little songbird?” she asked, her hand lingering, but not moving from its spot. “Your tasks are long done.”
That was not true, you hadn’t even swept yet. But you slowly began to realize maybe the chores had nothing to do with you coming up here tonight.
The question burned deep inside you, and Lady Dimitrescu looked like she wasn’t going to move until you gave your consent. Though you loved the tension that was building, you began to feel restless.
“Yes, please.” You inched your legs a little wider, and her smile grew.
“Such a pleasant sound, your voice,” she said, as her hand from your ankle trailed up your leg. “I was enraptured many weeks ago, when I heard you for the first time.”
“You.. you’ve heard me before?” you gasped a little, because her cool fingers pressed against the sensitive inside of your thighs. You thought you were always alone when you sang during work.
“Oh yes,” she grinned, “now sing for me, little pet. Make all the noise you want.”
Her mouth was on yours in an instant, filling your lungs with perfume and warm breath. The buttons on your dress came apart as her hands pulled at them one by one. Your skirt was pushed up, and then she pressed down on your torso to get you to lie on your back. The piano was smooth and cold beneath, and there was a brief moment you regretted that it was definitely going to be dirtied by what was to come. But then Lady Dimitrescu’s mouth latched onto your neck and all thoughts evaporated from your brain.
There was a pinch as she nipped at the soft skin between neck and shoulder, making your back arch and your body lift off the piano.
“Hmm.. delightful,” she growled. Her large hands slid up your dress and your entire lower half was exposed.
“Oh, I can smell you,” she sighed. She pulled back only a moment to tug the dress off your whole body. Your fingers scrabbled against the piano’s slick surface as you felt your nipples harden at her touch.
She sat back on the bench and scooted forward, leaning down to inhale your alluring smell as you lay there, gasping for air.
“Now.” She pulled your legs apart, eyes zoning in on your cunt. “I want to hear you sing.”
Her mouth pressed against your folds and a warm, wet tongue slipped up to catch your clit. A squeal escaped you and she kissed it a little more in reward.
“That’s it. More.”
Her fingers dug into your thighs before she began sucking and licking almost aggressively. Your body was trembling with every swipe of her tongue, every delicate nibble on your folds.
Your gasps rose in volume, your voice breaking in small squeaks and whimpers. Though she adored it when you carried a tune, this was much more satisfying.
Her tongue pressed inside without any hesitation. You felt it curl and push inside you, catching your wetness and scent. A low growl in the back of her throat made you cry out, and her grip tightened even more.
It wasn’t going to take long, you realized. The despair in her relentless tongue, her piercing eyes watching your body rise and drip with sweat made the coil tighten with every passing moment.
Her pupils were blown, and every time you let out another sound, she pressed on a little harder, a little faster.
“Oh!” Her tongue had slipped out and were replaced by two thick fingers. Your cry of delight earned you her warm lips wrapping around your clit, and you couldn’t help but grab at her head of thick, smooth hair.
The curls slipped delightfully through your fingers and you were watching the ceiling, trying to make out the shapes in the darkness, until she pulled away and said,
“Eyes on me, dear. Nowhere else.”
You had to hoist yourself up with one hand to watch her, and she got back to work immediately. Eyes locked, one hand in her hair, and hers wrapped around you so tightly you couldn’t move away.
“Fuck..” you hissed out as her fingers curled. Her eyes flashed; she seemed to like it, so you kept going.
“Please..” you begged, hips trying to buck in her hold, “oh, please please.. it feels..s-so good.”
Your thighs had been completely smeared by her lipstick, or those were bruises forming from her grip. Either way, the marks made your head spin with arousal.
“Please don’t stop... Please, don’t ever stop.” You were gasping, trying hard to focus on your words, but then her mouth sucked hard on your clit, and you were lost in meaningless sounds and little cries of pleasure as you came.
She didn’t stop, revelling in your gasps and broken whimpers, music to her ears. When your body began pulling away and you felt a tingling sensitivity every time she tried to touch your clit again, that was when she knew to let you go.
Lady Dimitrescu sat back a moment, basking in the sight of you, wet and spent, spread out over her piano and with cum dripping down your thighs. She lifted her hand and wiped her mouth with the back of it to catch any further stray lipstick, but she didn’t quite catch all of it.
When you could finally breathe normally, you sat up slowly and trembled again under her piercing gaze.
Your small hands reached out to cup her cheeks, startling her. She thought you’d dash off with your bucket and leave immediately. You inched closer and used your thumbs to wipe the last bits of lipstick, and then kissed her. Soft, sweet, just like your singing.
You peppered her lips and chin with kisses for a few minutes. She allowed all of it, held you close as you breathed her in. You shifted, feeling your body unstick from the piano with an unsavoury sound and you pulled a face, making her laugh. It made you giddy inside.
You stayed like that for a long while, and you relished in how warm and soft she was.
“Perhaps you can sing again for me sometime,” she suggested, “an actual song.”
You buried your head into the crook of her neck, making a whiny noise in the back of your throat. She said she liked your singing, yes, but it still intimidated you. Whether it was nerves, or the fact it was her that was listening.. but you did want to please her. Always.
“You realize you sing beautifully, little one?” she eventually asked. “Even when I’m not inside you?”
You let out a burst of giggles and she lovingly kissed your shoulder. The glee of her enjoying your voice and the aftermath of your orgasm soared like butterflies inside you.
“You best get back to your duties,” she hummed, though her hand curved around your waist and held you close, like she wasn’t going to let you go. “The shelves in this castle aren’t going to dust themselves.”
You laughed again, feeling adoration swell up inside you as you ran your fingers through her loosened locks of hair.
“...can I come back tomorrow night?” you asked feebly.
She chuckled, low and sultry, and tipped your head up to look at her, “you can come whenever you want.”
Your face went beet-red in a matter of second and she grinned widely.
“But tomorrow night.. come to my chambers. And don’t bother with your supplies. Won’t want you getting wet again... at least not like that.”
The extra Smut Chapter ;)
The next day, you were a bit exhausted from the previous night’s... activities. But you set about work the same way as usual, though buzzing with an unusual excitement about the evening to come.
You were working on repairing a rip in one of your old dresses. You really wanted to impress the Lady and look as good as possible, now that she had taken a liking to you. As you worked, the head maid asked you about your previous night’s duties while preparing lunch.
“It wasn’t all bad.” You kept your gaze on the hole in the dress you were mending as she prepped ingredients. “The Lady seemed very preoccupied. I don’t think I was much of a bother.”
“That’s very rare,” another maid cackled while peeling potatoes next to you. “She always looks at us like we’re the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. But I suppose the pay is good.”
“Not freezing out in the cold is very good pay, I agree,” the head house maid said dryly. “I suggest you try to keep it that way.”
The maid looked flustered at the comment and scampered off, intimidated by her gaze and muttering something about more things to be done. You bit your lip to stop from smiling.
“How was it really, my dear?” The head maid turned to you, a much kinder look in her eyes now. “The Lady can be a touch.. harsh.”
“It was fine, really. I didn’t know she had a piano until now.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve never heard her play myself, but I’ve heard stories she used to perform. Especially around holidays or important events.”
“Really?” Your mouth gaped a little as she explained. “I didn’t know she was that good at piano.”
“Oh, no, dear. Not piano. She would sing. It’s a bit sad we haven’t heard her sing at all in our time at the castle. I suspect it would make her a little more approachable. But that may not be what she wants. I’ve heard she was quite a talented singer though...”
As she kept talking, the needle had stilled in your hands, your body freezing at the sudden revelation. Lady Dimitrescu, a singer? Surely not.
“..Are you alright?”
You snapped out of your thoughts, thinking of how she would sound, what she would sing, and if you would ever get to hear her sing.
“Yes, yes I’m fine.” You kept pushing the needle through the fabric, trying to remain calm. You felt your body tingle as you remembered the way she wanted to hear you sing. “I have to say, it is quite surprising.”
“Our Lady is definitely full of surprises.” She patted your shoulder before leaving you to your thoughts and your half-stitched handiwork. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to focus on any tasks for the rest of the day now.
Later that night, you hurried to sneak through the hallways on your way to your Lady’s bedchambers. You really didn’t want anyone to see you on the way, since you had no supplies to have an excuse of a chore to be done this time. There was one maid who caught your eye, and she gave you a curious once-over as you walked by in your nicest dress, looking like you were going out rather than going to bed.
When you got to the door of the room, your heart was thundering in your chest. Your hands had gotten sweaty, and you didn’t understand what was so stressing for you. She had seen every inch of you already, had stripped you on top of the piano, and made you come like you never had before.
You delicately rapped your knuckles on the door, and waited for long, agonizing moments for a response. When none came, you became curious. You turned the door handle and pushed. It opened with no resistance, and there seemed to be no noise coming from inside the room.
You poked your head inside, and was once again astounded by the sheer size of the room. Against your better judgment, you slipped inside and shut the door behind you. Being early was always a good thing, you decided.
Since Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t there yet, you had time to take it in. You were drawn to the massive bed, and the dark red sheets that adorned it. Probably the best colour choice, you figured, considering the high risks of blood stains on any surface in the entire castle.
You approached and ran a hand over the edge of the fabric, marvelling at its silkiness and expensive textures. It reminded you of everything Lady Dimitrescu liked to wear; expensive, silky, smooth...
The door slammed open, ripping the quiet thought out of your brain, and there stood Lady Dimitrescu. Her expression was fuming, angry, but it didn’t seem to be directed at you, because the minute she saw you standing in the room, it softened in confusion. Like she had forgotten you’d be coming.
You let go of the sheets and clasped your hands behind your back, curtsying quickly in fear of her anger and not wanting to step out of line. She nearly scoffed at you, and took a few long strides to the vanity, sitting down heavily on the bench.
“Help me with my dress.” Her tone was curt, demanding. You paled a little, thinking this night wasn’t gonna go how you expected it to, but still doing as she said. You were a maid, after all.
With her seated, it was easier to reach the buttons along her back, and you made quick work of them. But when you stepped back and she didn’t make any move to get out of her seat, you realized she wanted you to get the entire garment off her.
Her pointed gaze at you in the mirror disappeared from view as you approached the open back and pushed the two halves of the dress aside like peeling delicate fruit. You couldn’t help it; you ran your hands along the thick skin of her back as the dress fell off her shoulders, revealing a tantalizing bra clasp right at eye level that you could have undone quickly if you wanted to.
“You’re being quite bold, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu finally spoke, her voice deep, sultry, but not gentle like it had been last night. There was an iciness to it that stung. Your hands had been lingering a little too long on her skin.
“Forgive me, my lady,” you said, stepping away as she got up to her full height and let the dress pool at her feet. You saw heels in your view and stockings raking up long legs, but you didn’t dare look any higher.
“Oh, pet. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She ran a hand over your head and walked past you. Your instincts kicked in and you picked up the dress to fold tidily on the vanity’s bench. The slightest touch from her fingers made you shiver, and a blush crept up the back of your neck.
“Look at me, sweetling.”
You turned around to face the bed, where she was sitting, one leg swung over the other, hands perched behind her on the mattress. Yellow eyes looked at you and you gulped for air at the sight of her.
“You’re allowed to look, darling. It would be a bit inconvenient if you weren’t.”
Your cheeks were burning now, but you finally let your eyes wander down her frame. Her lingerie was the epitome of femininity, yet dark and sultry, just like her. The black lace hugged her curves. Her stockings were held up by a garter belt, and she kicked off her heels with one smooth jerk of her legs.
Her tummy folded in when she was seated, and her thighs, though muscular and lean, were thick and looked strong enough to crush your entire body if she wanted to.
“Come here.” That familiar voice zapped through you and you approached the bed, briefly wondering if what you had heard about her singing talents were true. You supposed it wouldn’t surprise you. A lady of her standard, learning an instrument or musical skill must’ve been a required lesson for her etiquette.
She picked you up to sit in her lap, and you squeaked in surprise as she lifted you once again. A chuckle rang throughout the room and you looked up at her, relieved to see the earlier anger had dissipated from her gaze when she looked at you.
“I’m glad you’re here. I had almost forgotten you were coming,” she said, running hands soothingly over your thighs as you straddled her. “I apologize if I was a bit of a sight when I arrived. The staff in this castle is somewhat... incompetent at times.”
So it was the staff that had made her angry. Did another maid try to escape? Enter the cellar? Was there an errand boy that couldn’t keep his hands off of one of the new deliveries?
Her head lowered to breathe in your scent, lingering right by your ear. You let out a heavy sigh at the feeling of her so close to her, and you reached out to grip her upper arms that framed your body. You ran your fingers along her skin, and she recoiled for a moment, pulling away.
You froze. Did you do something wrong? Fear etched in your eyes, you looked up at the Countess, wondering if you stepped out of line for touching her. Then her gaze focused in on you and she seemed to relax a little.
Was it a request? An order? You didn’t mind either way, because now your hungry hands ran over her, feeling the dimples and ridges of scars and stretched skin all over. You explored with your hands as much as you did with your eyes, gazing at her cleavage, the curve of her neck, the muscles in her shoulders.
You ran a hand over her tummy, feeling softness and subconsciously prodding it a little with your fingertip. She giggled at the feeling. Giggled. Her body jostled a bit, moving you about. You liked the feeling and the softness, so kept your hands there.
“I can see a question in your eyes, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu purred, combing a hand through your hair. You cast your gaze downward, running a hand over her skin repeatedly, familiarizing yourself with the patterns of the stretch marks.
“Just.. something I heard today.”
“And what was that?”
You squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if you want to hear.”
A finger tipped your chin up to her piercing eyes, “I doubt it’ll go unnoticed by me, sweetling. Even if you don’t tell me now, I will hear about it.”
Your mouth went a little dry at that. She was right, nothing happened in this castle without her knowing about it, but goodness... the power behind those words made you weak in the knees. Thank heavens you were sitting.
“I was told you used to be a singer.”
An amused look crossed her face. “Is that it? I was expecting you to announce a mutiny at hand.”
You shrugged slightly, delighted in the way her hand reached to cup the back of your neck, a thumb running over your throat. “I was hardly a singer, darling. But yes, I used to.. dabble in performance. Long ago.”
“Is that why you were so interested in my singing?”
She grinned, teeth gleaming. “I was interested in your singing because I was interested in you, little songbird.”
She tugged you impossibly closer, leaning down and running her wicked tongue over where her hand had just been on your neck.
“W-will I ever get to hear you?” you managed to huff out, because now her firm hands were holding your middle, exploring your body the way you had been exploring hers.
“Is that what you want? To hear me sing?”
You nodded, because the low timbre of her voice was reverberating throughout your whole body, and you suddenly needed to hear it singing a tune.
“Perhaps... if you indulge me like I had indulged your last night, you may get to hear me sing too.”
You felt the tips of your ears nearly burst into flames, but you were so desperate... so eager to please. You nearly dropped down to the floor to get on your knees.
She chuckled, “not so fast. I have a better idea.”
Lady Dimitrescu shuffled back on the bed until she was up against the pillows. Shoving a pillow under her lower back, she crooked a finger to beckon you closer, spreading her legs. The sight of her, half in candle light, spread out for you this time, but still in charge, made you swoon.
You crawled towards her and pressed your lips against the inside of her knee. She rocked her hips a little at the feeling of your warm, small mouth on her body, and fisted a hand in your hair.
“I really won’t need any foreplay, dear,” she said in a hushed tone. “Give me your mouth.”
You raced to tug the black lace panties off of her long legs, and were met with the sight of slick, swollen flesh. A carnal desire overtook you, and you surged forwards to press your mouth against her, desperate to taste.
A soft ‘oh’ escaped the giantess at your eagerness and your soft tongue tasting her arousal without hesitation. She enjoyed teasing you, yes, making you beg and dance around the sexual gratification she could give you. But this, your hunger and desire to please, made her warm all over.
“Good girl,” she said softly as your tongue began flicking over her swollen clit, lightly and experimentally. Your hands gripped the inside of her thighs, keeping them steady and spread. She was able to look down at you, and realized her rough gripping had made your hair come undone, causing curls and locks to drop down, loose and wild. Your eyes met hers, pupils dilated, and then you sucked.
The high-pitched cry that escaped her was broken and sudden, and it made your body flood with arousal. Your legs trembled a little, the space between your legs begging for attention.
“Oh, who would have thought you’d be so good with your tongue, sweetling?” Lady Dimitrescu moaned, “I knew you were talented.. but that mouth...”
Her sentence was left unfinished, and she bit her lip, groaning softly in the back of her throat as you kept going. Your fingers rubbed her folds, teased her entrance, kissing and sucking until you could find a rhythm that made her squeak.
A nip at the hood of her clit made her gasp delightfully, so you did it again. The hand in your hair pressed down to bury your face in her cunt.
“Wicked girl,” she growled, and you moaned against her, your face wet. “Don’t you dare stop now.”
You pressed harder, one hand pushing three fingers at her entrance without any resistance as they slid inside. Your brain wasn’t working enough to keep up the pace of both, so you curled them and pressed against that soft, swollen frontal wall, scratching with the pads of your fingertips.
She nearly howled, a string of soft curses and... were those pleads? Her eyes were screwed shut, and you looked up at her strong, soft body. You couldn’t help but reach down and rub yourself through the fabrics of your clothes with your other hand.
Eventually she noticed when she opened her eyes again, and she chuckled, making a point of slowly rolling her pelvis into your face.
“Couldn’t keep your own hands off of yourself?” she said, her voice slurred with arousal. You made a whiny sound, restrained by your tongue and mouth against her cunt.
“I want you to come with me,” she gasped, her thick thighs beginning to shake from approaching her orgasm. You rubbed yourself even harder, eager to do as she said.
Her usually-reserved voice came out in whimpers and low growls, and you sucked hard at her clit again, pressing your fingers deep inside, and her whole body instantly convulsed.
Her cries of pleasure and incoherent words of praise made you topple over the edge shortly after. Her well-kept hair was undone, her mascara a little smeared, and her hands were digging painfully into your scalp. She let go once the last tremors left her body, and you relaxed against her thigh, breathing in her smell and kissing her everywhere you could reach.
“Well done, little songbird,” she cooed, eventually managing to open her eyes again and look at you. “You really are too precious for words.”
You blushed. You extracted your hand from between your legs, grimacing a little at the stickiness of your clothes.
“Let’s get you out of those,” Lady Dimitrescu whispered softly. You let her hands lift you up like you weighed nothing, and strip you.
“But- work...” you made a feeble attempt to get up, but she tutted, holding you closely to her chest, your head resting on her breasts.
“Nonsense. You will stay the night here. You’re in no state to return to your duties yet.” She spoke curtly again, meaning there was no room for argument, but the soft throb between your legs and the haziness of your sated mind already left you limp and jelly-like. You wouldn’t have made it out the door without collapsing even if you did try to leave.
And so, you were bundled up in her arms, the blankets pulled up around your trembling form. She had pulled out a book from her nightstand and let you relax against her body as she flicked through the pages, a quiet peace filling the atmosphere around you. And then you heard it.
With your head pressed against her chest, you heard the rumble of her voice under your ear, and then her soft humming filled the room. You held your breath as you listened to the low, baritone-like notes, and the occasional page flipping of her book.
You didn’t know the song, didn't know if it came with words, or if she had come up with it right now, but it made your heart flutter. Did she know you were still awake?
Eventually, a hand came off of the book and pressed on your head, helping you settle against her warmed skin a little more, and then she spoke,
“Sleep, little songbird. There’ll be plenty of times for you to hear me later.”