Renfaire Fantasy 2: Feeding the Fire (Patreon)

“Ah, hold on,” Brian cautioned Stephanie. “I’ve got dirt in my hair an’ everything.”

“I can—um,” Stephanie’s eyes flicked up and down, checking him over. “Let me wash you. Please.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Brian said. “I’ll just—”

“Please,” Stephanie insisted.

“Rebecca’s got towels in her Suvaru, like, tons of towels,” Emily spoke up. “Towels for emergencies, towels for washing up, towels for every occasion. She’s got like, four different towels stacked up in—”

“I err, I actually think I wound up using them all,” Rebecca sounded embarrassed. “Over the past however many weeks we’ve been out here. There isn’t a laundromat in Tionetta. My one with oil stains is still out in the car, then I have my blue shamrocks one I’ve been using over with my bedroll kit, and then the other two are in the cabin, I was using them for Chloe.”

“A pink one and a tan one,” Christine confirmed. “But, uh—the tan one we barely used. Mostly just the pink one we had for giving me baths. We just had the tan one for my hair.”

“I’ll grab it?” Emily motioned towards the shack.

“Sure, go ahead,” Rebecca nodded her consent. “I’ll clean up Chloe a bit and see if I can shake out her clothes before we all go to bed.”

“Then—I’ll start making trips back and forth with the sleeping bags and stuff,” Kelly offered, starting back down the dark path towards the road.

“I’ll help,” Brian said, trying to shift Stephanie off of his knee so that he could stand.

“No,” Stephanie denied him. “Sit, stay here—p-please.”

“I can help,” Brian tried to read her expression in the warmth of the light from the fire. “Don’t want to have you girls doing everything.”

“You can help… by taking off your shirt,” Stephanie insisted. “Please. I’m going to wipe you clean and then, um. If you can lean back a bit, I can wash your hair. With the jug of water. So you can be cleaned up for snuggling. Okay?”

“Alright,” Brian conceded.

“We’re like, restraining and locking up Chloe again overnight, right?” Emily asked, trying to shoulder open the door to the cabin and failing. “What the fuck. How do you get this open? The knob’s turning.”

“You have to lift it up a bit and shove,” Rebecca explained. “Here—let me get it.”

“I can use this water?” Stephanie asked. “This one by the fire?”

“Of course,” Rebecca said. “Just had that one there for dousing things before I went to sleep, but it’s safe to drink and everything. From the Lyndies—one of our neighbors here just up the road, they have a cabin with a wellwater pump they’ll let me use.”

The other girls went about their business preparing them for the night while Stephanie slipped off of Brian’s leg and then stood between his knees. She was filled with a purpose as she helped him pull his shirt up over his head, and although she couldn’t make out much in the dim firelight her exploring fingertips found dust and grainy dirt had found their way just beneath his collar. Tracing across his broad shoulders and then down the breadth of his bare chest to search the rugged terrain of his abdominals, Stephanie found that he wasn’t in the mood.

She was going to fix that.

It was too disconcerting to feel his turmoil and pain, and the defeat, self doubt, and emotional exhaustion was unsettling. Stephanie didn’t want to just distract him from what was going on by trying to blot over all of the anguish with arousal, she needed to remind him how much she loved him, how fiercely her feelings burned for him, especially now. This was the important time to express her love, and after going through the pretense of brushing off non-existent dirt from his naked upper body Stephanie leaned in and pressed her lips against his shoulder.

“Steph,” Brian sighed. “I don’t know that… well.”

He put his hands on her shoulders as if he might push her away, but when she brought her own hands up overtop to cover his, the push never came. She kissed his skin slowly, ensuring he would feel the soft pressure, and worked the pads of her lips against him. Brian didn’t want to be intimate right now, but Stephanie had things to say to him that there weren’t words for, and the only way she knew how to communicate what she needed him to understand were through small, tender kisses across his chest and then his neck.

Brian… Brian, please. I need you to understand.

There were tears in her eyes, and when Emily arrived to offer her a towel Stephanie stood up again with reluctance.

“Lean back,” Stephanie finally asked, stepping around to stand behind him. “Close your eyes.”

Feeling through the tufts of his soft, downy hair Stephanie discovered that a bunch of dirt had fallen down onto him back when he was in that horrible grave with Chloe, and as gently as she could she combed out what she could. It was intimate serving him like this, and with a somber look accepted Emily’s help with the plastic gallon jug of water—together they carefully poured it from the top of his forehead so that it flowed back into his hairline. A line of water trickled down the side of his head and snaked down his neck, and Emily let Stephanie bear the weight of the jug so that she could dab him with the towel.

“Sorry for uh,” Emily started to apologize in a low voice. “Everything tonight. Me overreacting. I’m. I’m just so fucking mad.”

“I know,” Brian said, sounding exhausted. “Me too.”

“I’m still sorry,” Emily said. “I know it’s not helping. Me being like this. I—”

“Emily, kiss him,” Stephanie said. “Slowly.”

“Don’t know that I’m really feeling sexy times tonight,” Brian warned them with a rueful laugh. “In fact, I kinda just want to—”

“Ssshh,” Stephanie admonished him, guiding more water back through his hair with another pour of the jug. “Emily… kiss him. Please.”

Stepping in closer so that one leg was on either side of his knee, Emily straddled him and went in for a kiss. Droplets of water scattered everywhere as Brian shifted in surprise, and blue hissed against pink for a brief instant as Stephanie ran her fingers through his wet hair, massaging his scalp as best she could with one hand while tipping the gallon jug again with the other.

“Mm—hmMm—” Emily moaned into Brian’s mouth.

Brian rocked back on the log he was sitting on, but with Stephanie behind him and pressing her body up against his naked back there was no danger of him falling. She cupped spilling water in her hand and gently splashed it against the crown of his head, and then guided the sopping water along to reach the nape of his neck. Emily’s lips smacked against Brian’s, the Latina’s splayed fingers were resting against Brian’s jawline, and when finally she released him so that Stephanie could tilt his head the whole way back until he faced the night sky, Stephanie kissed him instead.

“Brian… I love you,” Emily blurted out. “I’m. I’m sorry all of this didn’t go better.”

“Mmh,” Brian broke Stephanie’s kiss. “Not your fault. Not really anyone’s fault, just—”

“It’s my fault,” Christine said in a small voice.

They discovered that Christine was now sitting on the log across the fire from them, now wearing just a faded pair of bra and panties. Rebecca off to the side shook the sweatshirt in her hands as if cracking a matador’s cape, and even in the low light of the fire they could see a cloud of dust hang in the air and hear grains of dirt and sand scatter across the leafy ground. Christine was pale white and a bit too thin, with several of her lower ribs visible.

“May I?” Rebecca asked, gesturing for the jug. “I want to rinse out her hair a bit before bed.”

“Here,” Stephanie passed it over, but she wasn’t able to peel her eyes away from Christine.

Christine was watching them with a distant, haunted look. It was as if she had never realized what good shape Brian was in, or that some part of her had never considered that so many other girls would be so attracted to him. Her anguish was muted, faded somewhat by the imperfect connection to their magic, but all the same it seemed to Stephanie like a dull reflection of the pain and loss she felt from Brian. Despite how pitiful and pathetic Christine appeared right now, the look of longing on the girl’s face made something altogether petty burn bright within Stephanie.

“Emily,” Stephanie said. “Brian’s pants.”

“I, uh,” Brian stilled Emily in his lap. “I think I’m probably fine. Not even really like much all got down my shirt or anything.”

“I know,” Stephanie said, locking eyes with Christine across the fire. “I… want her to watch.”

There was a pregnant pause between them all as they considered her words, and though Stephanie felt herself blushing fiercely, she meant them and she wasn’t going to take those words back. She’d never thought of herself as a vindictive person, but right now there was just a searing pink flame sizzling within her that demanded that satisfaction. She wanted Christine to watch, helpless, as they caressed Brian’s body with kisses and lavished attention upon him. Stephanie wanted Christine to see their hands working Brian’s cock in sensual movement, she needed to prove their lust for him in front of her jealous watching eyes.

“Umm,” Rebecca cleared her throat in embarrassment, giving the sweatshirt another few tiny shakes. “If—”

“Emily; Brian’s pants,” Stephanie managed to make her voice more firm this time. “Please.”

She took the towel that had been resting across Brian’s shoulder and dampened it with the water they had spilled across his skin. The embarrassment she felt at admitting her heart’s desire was like a breath of fresh air to the fire of spite she felt deep inside. It was a new feeling, and one all her own, and the urge to feed this feeling that had risen up out of her subconscious was in this moment irresistible. Emily gave her a look of surprise and a sheepish grin as she unbuttoned Brian’s pants. When Brian turned his head back to give Stephanie a questioning look, Stephanie began to carefully clean his face with the towel, using the wet cloth to wipe across his lovely brow and dab over his closed eyes and then the handsome contours of his nose.

The shocked silence made the night air of the forest so still that the sound of Brian’s zipper slowly being pulled down seemed to carry the whole way across the clearing, and Stephanie watched Christine stare transfixed at the sight.

“You, uh,” Brian finally spoke up. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I can—should I—?” Rebecca let out a nervous laugh. “Should I go?”

“Pull him out,” Stephanie felt a rush of excitement. “Emily—pull it out. I want her to see it.”

“Brian?” Emily asked for his permission, biting her lip.

“I-I want her to watch,” Stephanie said again. “Please?”

“I—” Christine looked torn with indecision. “Yeah. I should see. I… deserve it.”

“She deserves it,” Stephanie leapt on the girl’s words with enthusiasm. “Basically. It will help. I, uh. Sorry, Brian. I just—I just, I really want her to watch. We need to show her. Is that, um, is me saying that mean?”

“I want to,” Emily told him. “Can we?”

“Please?” Stephanie pleaded.

“Stephanie?” Rebecca interrupted them in a gentle voice. “Brian doesn’t look very comfortable.”

“We can—” Stephanie blinked rapidly in confusion. “We can make him comfortable. We’ll uh, we’ll make him feel so much better. Emily, can you—?”

“What I mean to say,” Rebecca sighed. “Is that Brian doesn’t look very comfortable with doing this.”

Stephanie froze as sudden doubt seized her inside, and that flame of feeling started to flag. She opened her mouth to argue, but all at once she didn’t understand how to phrase her reasoning. Wait, what reasoning? Somehow she had allowed her train of thought to shift onto the wrong track and the undercurrent of Brian that should have been present wasn’t present here. These feelings were strong, so powerful that they moved her, but without the sense Brian in them Stephanie suddenly found them foreign and frightening.

“I-I’m sorry,” Stephanie jolted back away from Brian. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Brian blew out a long breath and gently removed Emily’s hands from him. “It’s just—yeah guys, it’s been a long night.”

“Why don’t we sleep on it?” Rebecca offered. “Take a break, so that we can sort out how we feel about everything, and um. Digest everything that’s happened? Stephanie, if you’re also now picking up Christine’s feelings, then you… might need some time to learn how to deal with them possibly influencing you.”

CHRISTINE’S feelings, Stephanie felt her stomach lurch. No, not just her. Christine and Emily both.

The gnawing dissonance in the things she was feeling grew when she was able to turn her attention to them, and the overpowering I have something to prove along with the we should show Chloe her place being fed into her greedy flames did not originate from her. The heat of anger flashed at realizing it, because it made Stephanie feel manipulated—but even that sudden spike of temperature dropped when she realized Christine and Emily were likewise simply prisoners to their own feelings.

“Sorry, I—sorry,” Stephanie apologized in a fluster, horribly embarrassed. “I think… I think you’re right.”

She could see Emily’s look of annoyance in the firelight and knew the girl didn’t agree. They all knew that Emily’s feelings had been out of control tonight, however. Anything to do with Chloe was a touchy sore spot for her that seemed to make her fly off the handle. Looking across from them, Christine simply looked puzzled by what was going on. Stephanie wasn’t sure how to describe what Christine was feeling, but that alien I have something to prove did not mix well with other emotions; it was like adding a touch of crazy to everything it was introduced to.

It’s not a very forgiving thought, but—maybe this was part of what was wrong with her? Stephanie wondered, trying to take deep breaths and calm herself down. Some um, some core part of Christine’s mind is magnifying or multiplying the significance of things she feels? Affecting the severity? I don’t know.

“Wh-whatever that feeling was, I’m sorry, but,” Stephanie took a hesitant step back towards Brian and put her hands back on his shoulders. “But, it does not mix well with Emily’s emotions, right now.”

“There’s nothing wrong with what I’m feeling,” Emily huffed, glaring daggers at Christine. “I just want what’s best for Brian. I was with Brian all day and we didn’t have any problems, so—”

“What’s going on?” Kelly demanded, tromping back to the campfire clearing with a pair of sleeping bags under her arm. “Emily?”

“Everything’s fine,” Emily pouted. “We were just cleaning up a bit before bed. It’s no big deal.”

“Uh-huh,” Kelly flicked glances around the fire, taking in the tense situation. “Emily, you’re with me tonight. In the little tent.”

“What?” Emily’s face screwed up.

“Steph is sleeping with Brian,” Kelly continued. “Rebecca, I’d like you in there with them, too. Christine, are you okay with being alone in the cabin?”

“That’s not fuckin’ fair,” Emily protested. “You can’t—”

“You’re pissed, you need to vent, I get it,” Kelly tossed Emily one of the sleeping bags. “You’re even mostly justified, I think. This shit is all crazy. But, right now you can’t be venting all of that on Brian and them. It’s not helping. It’s making everything more difficult for everyone. So, tonight you’re with me.”

“Fine,” Emily spat.

“I’m saying this because I love you, and because right now you need me to be the friend who will call you on your bullshit,” Kelly jabbed a finger back towards the little tent. “Tent. Now. I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m not saying not to vent. Just, do it with me, when we’re alone. Everyone else has their plates full. Okay?”

“Fine,” Emily answered in a much more subdued voice.

“It’s my fault anyways,” Christine said.

“I don’t even care,” Kelly said. “Christine, are you okay being in by yourself tonight, or do you want Rebecca with you?”

“I can sleep wherever!” Rebecca spoke up. “I’ve been, you know. Just sleeping out under the stars. Since it’s so nice lately.”

“I’m fine with anything,” Christine said.

“Brian?” Kelly asked. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Brian answered. “The kind of tired that sleep won’t fix. I’m not turned on, I’m not mad I don’t think, or upset or anything. I’m just… done. With everything, right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Stephanie squeaked out.

“No, no you’re fine,” Brian motioned her forward again. “Come here.”

“I thought… I don’t know what I was thinking,” Stephanie admitted. “Everything just felt…”

“Not your fault,” Brian looked her in the eyes. “Thank you for helping me wash up. And, uh. Before we forget. Where is the charm, right now?”

“Uhhh—fuck,” Emily cussed. “I had it last, didn’t I? Zapped Chloe with it. And, then, after that—I don’t know, we were trying to get you out of the grave. I must’ve dropped it. It was dark!”

“I want to say I should just break the charm tonight,” Brian started to say. “But—”

“Brian, no,” Kelly shook her head.

“No!” Emily stood up. “Not once we’ve—”

“—Let me finish, fuck,” Brian shook his head. “But, I guess if we did that, things with ‘Christine’ would one hundred percent go back to being ‘Chloe.’ So—for now at least, we’re stuck with the magic bullshit. I just, yeah, I hate the idea that it’s affecting Stephanie like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Stephanie hurried to apologize. “I, I um—right in the moment it felt like, like a positive, like the right thing to do, but—”

“I think that’s proof that the charm magic stuff does try to skew things towards sex,” Brian sighed. “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, necessarily, just. It’s something we should be aware of? For times like this in the future.”

“Magic and drama don’t mix!” Rebecca tried to joke. “Or, hah. Well, I guess when you think about it, mixing drama with anything just turns into kind of a big mess…”

“You’re definitely not wrong,” Kelly agreed with a sour look. “But, it’s whatever. We’ll deal.”

“Can someone strap me back up?” Christine held up her wrists. “The braces, the tape—everything, tonight. Just in case.”

“Do you want to drink the jar, first?” Kelly asked.

Stephanie watched with fear and fascination as Kelly adjusted the remaining bag beneath her arm and then walked around the firepit to retrieve the glass jar. Even in the dim light she could see the way its milky contents shifted when Kelly lifted it up, and it was impossible to forget what was inside because she hungered for it. There was something wildly debauched about the idea of drinking a container full of someone’s semen, but the fact that it was Brian’s made the thought tantalizing.

It’s his love, Stephanie wet her lips and swallowed. It’s magic. It’s, it’s… BRIAN’S.

The brave face Christine was putting on fell quite a bit at the sight of it, however, and it was plain to see that she still balked at sampling the stuff. With her brunette tangles of hair bedraggled with water from when Rebecca had started to wash her hair it was hard to see the silver streaks, and with Christine still sitting at the fire in her underwear she was the very picture of vulnerability. Exposed, helpless, and defeated.

“If… if that’s what everyone wants,” Christine said with a rigid face.

“She needs to be full silver,” Emily pointed out. “So, she needs to drink it.”

“I’d feel better if you drank it,” Kelly agreed.

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” Brian said. “It’s natural if she thinks it’s kind of gross.”

“Drink it,” Stephanie found herself saying. “Please.”

“Rebecca?” Brian asked. “What do you think? You’re our… unaffected person.”

“Our control case,” Emily said.

“Um,” Rebecca winced as everyone turned their attention to her decision. “Why don’t we… here, let me see it, first.”

“Sure,” Kelly passed the jar over.

“So,” Rebecca put on a hesitant smile. “This is… fresh?”

She gave the jar a little shake, examining the contents as they swished within, and then hefted it. A step closer to the fire and crouching down allowed the tawny-haired girl to see the stuff inside a little better, but she frowned as if unsure of what to make of it. With a guilty glance back at everyone and another sheepish smile, Rebecca finally planted the jar on the ground in front of her, and unclasped the lid.

“It…” Rebecca took a cautious whiff. “It doesn’t smell like anything?”

“I’ll drink it if you want me to,” Christine repeated with a stiff look.

“Yeah, I just… I don’t know what to say,” Rebecca chuckled. “It’s probably fine? Like um, like it shouldn’t make you sick. It’s cold—or well, probably room temperature? The glass is cold.”

“It felt warm to me?” Kelly said, frowning. “Here, let me see it again.”

“Sure,” Rebecca swung the little lid over but didn’t clasp it shut as she handed it back up to Kelly.

“It’s warm,” Kelly decided, popping the lid back again. “Like, obviously warm. It’s warm and it smells like sex.”

“It didn’t smell like anything at all to me,” Rebecca pursed her lips.

“It smells like…” Kelly closed her eyes and sniffed in deep. “Like raw sex. Like when you’ve been rough and wild for a whole night, when your brain’s doused with pheromones and you just want to keep fucking and fucking and fucking.”

“Rebecca’s not zapped in,” Emily said. “Not initiated back into magic yet with us. Didn’t touch grass. Or, uh—charm. So, I guess it’s—it’s like it’s inert, to her. It’s just stuff, for Rebecca, but it’s magic stuff, to us?”

“Could be,” Kelly carefully closed the lid again. “‘Cause, it smells like pure horny, to me. Sex in a bottle. Brian?”

“I… no thanks, I don’t really want to smell it,” Brian shook his head. “I’ll pass?”

“Have Chloe smell it,” Emily suggested. “Chloe—Christine—whatever. That should prove whether or not she’s really with us.”

“Here,” Kelly stepped over to the girl.

Christine’s slender fingers reached up and settled around the glass, and then bobbed slightly as Kelly let her take it—Christine seemed surprised by the weight. Stephanie also thought that Christine was putting a lot of work into maintaining a neutral expression that didn’t show disgust or fear, but anxiety seeped out of the dusty silver mirror all the same.

“It’s definitely warm,” Christine judged, carefully holding it in front of her. “Like it was sitting closer to the fire or something. As for what it smells like…”

With a jangle of the metal clasp against glass, Christine opened the top of the jar wide and then lifted it to her face. Stephanie couldn’t see the girl’s expression at that point but she felt Christine’s eyes dilating wide as a heady surge of something flowed off of her and that dusty pane of metaphorical glass fogged bright with sparkling silver. Raw insatiable arousal hit like a slap to the face, and it was all Stephanie could do to keep her hips from bucking in reflex. Her knees went weak and wobbly, and Stephanie almost yelped as she leaned against Brian.

*     *     *

Christine choked on air at the overpowering scent of something titillated her sinuses and teased smooth quicksilver from her brain. The aroma wafting up off of this liquid desire wasn’t something disappointing and debasing like sex, it was like someone had carefully separated out a trickle of love and a spritz of infatuation and concocted some impossible ambrosia of perfection out of it. It was a scent that activated erotic neurons across synapses that were indifferent to lust, it was gushing fluid fantasy that shouldn’t exist on this earth.

Holy fucking shit.

“Well?” Emily demanded. “Anything?”

Unable to answer, Christine inhaled again—the euphoric high was transformative, it was too much, it was strong, it was a giddy lovesick desperate-for-sex orgasmic rush that couldn’t be defined by words. The idea of being forced to swallow day old cum from a bottle had been so repugnant that she’d almost gagged before trying to sniff the stuff, but now that she had, it was a terrible fight not to let out a gasp of awe and wonder.

I want all of this inside me, right fucking now, Christine pressed her face up against the circular opening and her nostrils flared wide as she drew in as much of this heady smell as possible. Unable to stop herself, she started tilting the jar, and the cream of heaven inched a little bit closer to the glass lip. I want to taste it, NEED to. I would pay to drink this. I would pay ALL OF MY MONEY to taste this. I would—WAIT NO NO NO NO GIVE IT BACK I WASN’T DONE—!

“It’s—it’s uh!” Christine stammered as realized Kelly had grasped the jar again and was carefully easing it back away from her nose. “It actually smells good. To me.”

“Good?” Kelly asked.

The jar wavered between them as Christine’s fingers tightened their grip upon it, unwilling to let go.

“Yeah,” Christine admitted. “Can I…?”

“Good how?” Brian asked.

“Can you describe it?” Rebecca pressed for details. “I have a good nose, and—it really didn’t smell like anything at all to me.”

“Good like… the best thing I’ve ever smelled?” Christine admitted in complete embarrassment. “In my entire life? Can I drink it? I want it. I want to try it. Please?”

“It’s—it’s, guys it’s working,” Stephanie groaned out. “She is feeling it. She is feeling it.”

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