Wrong Side of the Bed [M/s] [fsub21] [TFdomme3242] - Chapter 15 Trade Secrets [no sex] [ptsd] [alcohol use] [humiliation]

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This is a work of FICTION, made by and for adults. The following chapter includes mentions of abuse (physical, emotional), sex-negativity, sexual assault and battery, depictions of severe trauma, teasing, alcohol use, humiliation, crude language (fuck), and genital mentions (breasts). Reader discretion is highly advised.

Mistress murmured gently in her restless slumber as she tightly held her tail. The sunlight left the bed before Mistress tearfully fell asleep and slumped to her side. Elva cleaned the tears away and carefully watched Mistress’ delicate face as her tight embrace comforted her. ‘It’s so warm,’ Elva reflected as the raven leather of her wings encased the pair in a thick blanket.

While Elva became lost in Mistress’ soft features for the first time, she realized, ‘Huh, Mistress only has one spot on her face, just under her left eye.’ Elva glanced at the back of her hand as she reflected, ‘I’m smothered in them.’ Quickly returning to Mistress’ visage, she observed, ‘It’s so close to the scar, too. I’m—glad it missed.’

The sunlight gradually became milder while Elva patiently waited for Mistress to wake up. ‘Is this what it was like for her, watching me rest?’ Elva wondered as Mistress continued to grumble and shift.

Finally, when the sun no longer shone brightly through the portal, Mistress inhaled sharply and grimaced before her eyes gently creaked open. Still clasping her tail, Mistress rubbed her lids before shyly looking at Elva. “Hey,” she meekly greeted Elva while struggling to maintain her gaze.

Somewhat startled by how timid she seemed, Elva replied, “Um, h-hello, Mistress.”

Looking away in embarrassment, Mistress softly apologized, “I, um… I’m sorry for making you wait—and for what happened earlier.”

Elva shook her head before replying, “It’s okay.” Unsure of what to say, Elva cautiously asked, “Are—you okay?”

Mistress looked down for a moment longer before slowly answering, “No. I feel a little better, but—” After closing her eyes and sighing, Mistress continued, “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

Still watching Mistress’ worried face, Elva consoled her, “You don’t have to explain if—”

Halting Elva mid-sentence, Mistress huffed as she opened her eyes and insisted, “No, you deserve to know. Especially after all that I’ve asked of you.” She waited before continuing, “I need to ask you for one more thing, though.” Turning her head further away before glancing towards Elva, Mistress shyly asked, “Can—you call me by my name?”

Blinking as her Mistress nervously shifted her wings and fiddled with her tail, Elva eventually clarified, “Call you—Saoirse?”

Nodding and anxiously facing Elva, Mistress explained, “I—I don’t think I can tell you what I need to as your Mistress. So, I want you to view me as…a friend?” Mistress shook her head and looked away as she corrected, “Not a—a friend, I just…I-I need to hear my name, so—please call me Saoirse, Elva.”

Elva hesitated as she watched Mistress before she eventually answered, “O-okay, Mis—” Elva halted and began fidgeting as she realized her mistake. “I-I’m sorry, Mistr—,” Elva’s squirming worsened when she messed up again trying to apologize. After mumbling for a moment, Elva timidly inquired, “Ca-can I call you—Mistress Saoirse?” When met with a curious glance, Elva shyly explained, “I—i-it’s difficult, after all you’ve done for me, to—speak of you so…uhm…ungraciously?”

Huffing as she closed her eyes and shook her head, Saoirse answered with a weary smirk, “That’s fine.” Her smile quickly vanished before she nervously began, “I, um…I wasn’t—born this way. As a woman, a succubus. I…” Saoirse could hardly meet Elva’s glance as she stated, “I was born—an incubus…and raised as a man.” Elva hardly thought on her admission before she continued, “Meranarax was the name my fa—” Saoirse bit her lip and turned away before coldly stating, “Lynx gave me. My mother said it was to hide my humanity, but, to be honest, I don’t think he ever thought about me until I—well, needed more energy than my own.

“I was, um,” Saoirse paused, glancing away anxiously before trying again, “he trained me—for twelve centuries. Teaching me to be a slave master, like him, and…punish rapists.” Her voice became more unsteady when Saoirse noticed Elva seemed confused. “People who’ve committed—’sexual sins’ and have to earn ‘absolution’ before they can be pardoned—through pain and torture.”

Saoirse started shaking while tears swelled again before she began anew, “The first time I was allowed to torture a ‘sinner’ when I was—twenty, I thought it felt—good? But, then Lynx—always—pushed me to punish them further… to ‘finish their lesson’.” Suddenly Saoirse became quiet while her eyes trembled. Elva questioned her Mistress’ whisper as she quivered and let go of her tail to cover her ears, “Oh, Brigit, their screams when I…”

As Saoirse’s eyes tearfully shut and body clutched, her wings pulled Elva closer while she sobbed, “I didn’t know—I had a choice.” Elva couldn’t find a way to hold her before Saoirse shook and cried, “But it was never enough for—! E—every time! Until I—felt their pain! I—I didn’t know I could—feel another’s suffering until—!”

Before she could speak further, Saoirse fell into a wail that left Elva questioning as she reached out, ‘What should I—’

Taking Elva’s hands as her eyes peered open, Saoirse choked while she continued, “When I learned I had a choice—that I didn’t have to torture people, I…I tried to leave. I—,” Saoirse sniffled, struggling to clean her eyes and hold Elva, “I told him ‘I want to be on my own’ and I-I thought he’d—!” Falling into a sob before she could continue, Saoirse clenched Elva’s fingers as she bawled, “She didn’t deserve ‘absolution’ but he still—all because I ‘added to her sins’!”

When Saoirse clutched herself in lament, Elva tried to hold her close while hesitantly stroking her hair. Saoirse’s horns nearly rested around her neck as she dropped into Elva’s bust, though she hardly noticed as her Mistress’ bellows seemed to calm. Slowly Saoirse quieted while she tightly held Elva back, and while her breathing stilled, Elva cautiously asked, “Mistress—Saoirse, who is ‘she’?”

Her gaze gradually raised as Saoirse affectionately whispered, “Aileene. My first slave.” The light smile that brightened her cheeks faded when she corrected, “My only slave.”

With the brief pause, Elva couldn’t help but compare again, ‘Bright, like—’

“Like your name, Elva,” Saoirse plainly finished her thought. “You remind me of her. Quite a lot, actually. How scared you were, your habits—the things you enjoy. Oh, Brigit, you even look—so much like her.” Before she could continue, Saoirse pulled herself back into Elva’s chest as she began tearing up again. “I never hurt her,” her muffled voice quietly sobbed as she held Elva tighter. “Not once. I was so—sick of that taste. But I always felt her fear anyway. And then—,” Saoirse’s voice shuddered as she began shaking. Suddenly gasping, Saoirse couldn’t speak until she took several wheezing breaths. “Then he—he found us—in bed, like this, and he—he tortured her—and made me watch. I—,” falling into despair as her wailing began again, Saoirse cried out, “She didn’t deserve it! I—I couldn’t save her! Wh-when I tried, he—he did this to me and I—I ran away!!” Breaking down in Elva’s embrace, Saoirse painfully confessed, “I ran away before that monster killed me and I left her there!”

Slowly understanding her Mistress as she wept into her breasts, Elva quietly held Saoirse while her wails worsened. Elva ignored her own pounding heart and unease as Saoirse wrapped her tattered wings around them in a comforting embrace. Saoirse’s voice gradually quieted to a sniffle as the sun rose further and Elva nearly thought she’d fallen asleep again before her head lifted. “I’m sorry,” she quietly said before meeting Elva’s gaze.

As Saoirse let go to dry her eyes, Elva tried to console her, “You don’t have to apologize, Mistress Saoirse.”

“I do, though,” Saoirse insisted with a huff before closing her eyes. “I’ve put you in so much danger just by keeping you here and—oh, Brigit, doing everything I’ve done to you.”

Elva asserted, “But, I-I’ve consented to everything and—enjoyed it. Why would that put me in danger?”

Saoirse sighed before answering, “I really wish I knew. I just know Lynx scorns pleasure and that the entire time I was with him, he never let me…try to be me. Then he rejected me when I actually…” After shaking her head with a huff, Saoirse started again with a light smile, “My mother, on the other hand, they—” After freezing for a few heartbeats, Saoirse’s face fell in the sheets, where she promptly groaned in frustration.

“What’s wrong, Mistress Saoirse,” Elva perked up to ask while anxiously waiting for her grumbling to cease.

Her head came up as she tiredly mumbled, “Why did I have to bring them up?” Begrudgingly unwrapping them and pushing herself upright, Saoirse reluctantly announced, “My mother is here,” just before they heard the same metallic chime from earlier.

Blinking in surprise, Elva had to repeat, “Your mother?” as Saoirse reached out for her. Taking her hand and climbing off the bed, Elva asked, “Do—I need to hide?”

Saoirse grumpily answered, “There’s no point,” as she led Elva to the rightmost exit. “My mother is clairvoyant. I’d be shocked if they didn’t already know you were here.” As Saoirse opened the door, Elva saw a dim hallway with beautiful dresses lining both walls. Tightly pulling her wings in as she passed through the wide opening, Saoirse let go and stepped in alone while running her fingers along the articles. Halting soon, Saoirse turned to the left and grasped the sleeve of a white and green dress. “I swear to Brigit if…” she mumbled while pulling it from the row and approaching Elva. “Please, try this on,” she requested before handing it over.

As Elva took the vested garb, she first marveled at the unbelievable softness before holding it to herself. When she looked back up, the thin room became gently lit with purplish lights before the door swung nearly closed. Returning to the garment, Elva slipped her robe off and dropped it to the ground before pulling the skirt over her head. It snugly slipped down her frame as Elva lifted her arms into the sleeves, settling comfortable on her shoulders when her head emerged.

After buttoning the snow-white inner-dress up to her neck then closing the moss-green vest, Elva briefly tried to examine herself before looking towards the reflection on the far wall. Hastily stepping past the bed as the lights brightened, Elva gasped as she saw herself mirrored on the short dresser. Coming closer to see the details, Elva admired the goldish knots sewn all over the outer-dress before flushing when she realized they matched those woven into her collar.

“It’s beautiful,” Elva stated as she turned herself, admiring how the loose, frilled sleeves hung off her wrists. Noticing how easily the skirt lifted as she pivoted, Elva cautiously smirked before twisting on her toes. Widely grinning as it furled out with her spin, Elva stopped abruptly and giggled as it snugly wrapped around her legs before settling.

“Well?” Saoirse calmly called out from the dressing room, “how does it fit, kitten?”

Elva had to look at her beaming face as she gleefully answered, “It fits perfectly, Mistress!”

Suddenly Saoirse shouted in annoyance and screamed something that Elva couldn’t understand. The door swung open a moment later and Saoirse stormed out muttering, “Do I have to have another talk with them about staying out of my fucking future?” Huffing impatiently as she finished tying the halter of her black dress, Saoirse took a deep breath before her face relaxed. Looking at Elva while donning a warming smile, Saoirse remarked with a pleased sigh, “You look lovely, Elva.”

Turning away bashfully, Elva glanced over her Mistress as she replied, “Thank you.” Saoirse’s hair and eyes were still the splendorous mixture, yet she had retracted her wings and horns. All her scars had vanished—though her sleeved garment might have covered most of them anyway—and Elva could clearly see the singular mark under her left eye. “Y-you look beautiful too, Mistress Saoirse.”

“Thank you, Elva,” she kindly replied while offering her left hand. “Come,” she reluctantly insisted. “I suppose I have to introduce you to my mother.”

When their fingers interlaced, Elva flushed and easily let Saoirse tug her to the exit. Startled by how quiet their brisk steps were, she glanced down and noticed her Mistress was barefoot. ‘I thought she seemed shorter,’ Elva quietly reflected as she briefly glanced back up. Too allured by her toes as they curled with each step, Elva nearly missed something black poke out behind Saoirse’s heel. ‘Is that—’ Elva briefly wondered before shaking the thought off, too embarrassed to think about what Saoirse’s tail felt like as they entered the corridor.

Their path to the steps was tranquil as Elva watched Saoirse’s unbound hair sway behind her. Before Elva realized they had reached the warmly lit sitting room, Saoirse sharply turned right into a long hallway with a pair of wooden doors at the end. Their padded footsteps echoed softly until they nearly reached the entry, and as Saoirse let go of Elva, she turned back to request, “Wait here for a moment.”

Elva only had to wait a few heartbeats for the gateway to be opened while a pair of red hands lunged through the gap. “Are you okay??” an older woman with a deep, kind voice questioned as she wrapped her arms around Saoirse’s head.

“I’m fine, mother,” Saoirse insisted as she pushed away. “You could have gotten here before Lynx if you were that concerned about me.”

There was a flash of reddish light on Saoirse’s cheek while her mother whispered something and then softly replied, “You know I don’t have that much control over my visions, little dove.” When the glow faded, her bruise was nearly gone. Saoirse gently embraced her as she added, “I’m so glad to see you again, sweetie. It’s been so long.”

Saoirse huffed wearily before she commented, “It doesn’t feel like it. Seems like I just saw you a few days ago.”

“I’m so sorry, my dove,” she said woefully before Saoirse stepped away. “I hope you’re feeling a little better now.” Before Saoirse could answer, her mother continued, “Well, I hate to insist, but you know I need to be invited in.”

As she opened the door further, Saoirse replied, “Of course. Please, come in, Brighid.”

“Thank you, dove,” replied a stouter woman wearing a dress similar to Elva’s with auburn hair curling down to her hips. As the gateway swung open, Brighid quickly looked towards Elva before her bright green eyes lit up as she pushed past Saoirse. Loudly hooting as she dashed inside with open arms, she tightly embraced Elva and lifted her up while spinning her around. “Oh, Brigit,” she gleefully shouted as she twisted in circles, “this is the ‘little light’ that woke up my dove!!”

Stunned as her world was turned about again and again, Elva tried not to shriek as she struggled to introduce herself, “H-h-he-llo! I-I’m Elva!”

Finally slowing and setting Elva on the ground with a firm hug, Brighid excitedly commented, “Oh, of course you are, my little light!” Hardly kept standing as she became aware of her dizziness, Elva tried to focus as Saoirse’s mother commented, “I’m Brighid, darling.”

“Brig-hid?” Elva questioned as Saoirse gently held her shoulders. After shaking her head, Elva tried to ask, “I-I’m sorry—not Brigit, right?”

Sharply giggling as Elva fell into Saoirse’s embrace, Brighid remarked, “Our family’s hearth goddess! My mother was very devout.” Briskly walking down the hallway without them, Brighid loudly announced, “I’m using your kitchen, darling! I’ll prepare ambrosia!”

Saoirse’s hug seemed to relax as she sighed, “Oh, Brigit, could I go for—wine?!” Shouting as she let Elva go to race after Brighid, Saoirse insisted, “No! Mother, don’t give Elva wine!’

“She’ll be twenty two at the beginning of next month!” Brighid quickly retorted as she rounded the corner. “She’s more than capable of deciding if she wants a glass or two!”

Unsteadily following her Mistress while she rushed away, Elva stumbled before finding her feet as Saoirse insisted, “That’s not the—!” Saoirse stopped and rubbed her eyes as she questioned, “Mother, how do you—!”

“It’s Lammas, do something special!!” Brighid interrupted Saoirse to mention.

“Would you—!” Saoirse yelled in frustration before Elva could reach her. Stomping out of view, Saoirse stated, “You know what, I’m not even going to ask how you know that. We’re not drinking—!”

Snapping back as Elva came past the steps, Brighid rebutted, “You’ll feel better with the energy. Or were you planning on playing with her more after your father showed up like that?” The two were already in the kitchen as Elva approached while Brighid was holding three translucent containers within her fingers. Saoirse stood before her, stunned as she covered her face and groaned with embarrassment. “It’s raspberry,” Brighid mentioned as a reddish drink started collecting in the roundish cup she offered.

Saoirse slowly glanced up before taking the container with a huff. Waiting until it was nearly filled to the brim, Saoirse swiftly brought it to her lips and swallowed it all in a long swig. Lightly coughing as she held the empty glass before her, Saoirse waited with resignation as she received more wine.

When Saoirse walked away in shame, Brighid chuckled and turned to Elva with a smile as she asked, “Now Elva, surely you learned to make wine for potions, yes?”

As she took the glass that Brighid handed her, Elva explained, “Well, Móra said not to drink any until my eighteenth summer.” Shivering when she recalled her concoction, Elva nearly stuck out her tongue as she remembered, “But it tasted so awful I never tried it again.”

Giggling as a red layer touched the bottom of the glass, Brighid commented, “This should taste much better than that, little light.”

Cautiously bringing the cup to her lips, Elva tipped it up and tasted the drink before pursing her lips. Thankfully it wasn’t sour like her own attempt, but Elva hesitated to remark, “It’s tasty, but—too bitter.”

Trading Elva’s glass with the empty one, Brighid replied with a soft grin, “My apologies, little light.” As a brighter wine filled it, Brighid said, “Here, strawberry will taste much sweeter, dear.”

When it filled, Elva brought the drink to her nose and noticed, ‘It does smell sweeter...’ Curious, Elva quickly tasted the new wine before tilting the glass and taking large gulps. ‘It’s so sweet!’ Elva thought in awe as she swiftly drank the rest, ignoring Brighid’s snickers until Saoirse gasped.

“Elva!” Saoirse nearly shouted as she tenderly grasped her wrist. “You’re not supposed to—” she more quietly tried to explain before Brighid took the empty glass from Elva’s fingers.

Flustered and flushed, Elva looked to her Mistress as she apologized, “I-I’m sorry, I—saw you and—”

Gently hushing them both as she handed Elva a half-full glass, Brighid gushed, “She’s fine, dove! It’s just a little wine!” Noticing Elva wobbling before holding her head, she chuckled, “You should sit the little light down before she trips, though. I’ll have supper ready soon!”

Saoirse gently held Elva’s side as she turned her back towards the sitting room. Feeling slightly dizzy, Elva comfortably leaned into her Mistress as she was led to a sofa. She sat down before Saoirse with a soft thud and eagerly took a sip of the delicious wine with a wide grin as her chest warmed up. Saoirse eased herself into the cushion with a heavy sigh as she took a large drink from her glass. “Your mother, she’s nice,” Elva commented as she noticed a growing fragrance that nearly made her feel hungry.

Huffing again as her head fell back, Saoirse gratingly replied, “They are. Too nice, sometimes.”

When Saoirse didn’t say anything else, Elva tried to ignore the light commotion behind them to ask, “So, she said her mo—”

“They, Elva,” Saoirse sternly interrupted while covering her eyes, “please don’t be rude.”

Brighid jubilantly called from the kitchen, “I don’t mind, dearie, but thank you for thinking about me!” Melodramatically hunching over, Saoirse held her face and grumbled before drinking the rest of her wine. As Elva watched the glass lower, it quickly filled as Brighid stepped up to them carrying a pinkish plate wafting a delectable scent. “Here you are, little doves,” they joyfully commented while setting the dish on a wooden table before them and handed each of them a smaller dish.

After Elva took her dish, she watched her Mistress reach out first to eagerly take one of several brownish wedges and a few yellow slivers from a pile. Before she took any, Elva curiously inquired, “What is this?”

“Soda bread and cheese,” Brighid answered as they collected some on their plate and sat in an adjacent armchair.

Looking at Saoirse as she ate the two together with a satisfied grunt, Elva cautiously took a piece of warm bread and nibbled the end. Quickly taking a bigger bite after sampling the tasty morsel, Elva moaned as well while she reflected, ‘This is delicious!’ Reaching for a slice of cheese before she finished chewing, Elva quickly bit into it and sighed as the smooth texture and mild flavor added to the comfort of the bread.

With a pleased groan as she reached for more, Saoirse inquired, “What cheese is this, gouda?”

Answering with a grunt of approval as they nodded, Brighid first covered their lips before excitedly saying, “Yes, dove, your favorite! I thought Elva would enjoy it too!” Turning to Elva, Brighid asked with a wide smirk, “What do you think, little light?”

Her mouth full with a fresh bite, Elva smiled while she thought, ‘It’s wonderful!’ When she noticed Brighid wasn’t replying, Elva flinched and chewed quicker before swiftly swallowing. After drinking the rest of her wine to wet her throat, Elva bashfully repeated, “I-it’s wonderful! Thank you, Brighid!”

Chuckling as Elva’s glass filled again, Brighid promptly replied, “You’re quite welcome, dear. And please, there’s no need to be so formal. Feel free to call me mother.”

Saoirse began choking on her food as she held her mouth closed. Wide eyed before swiftly drinking the rest of her wine, Saoirse gently shook her head while she implored, “Please don’t.”

Brighid’s cackling heightened as they took a sip of their own cup. “I’m teasing, dove. Please relax a little.”

“I am relaxed,” Saoirse insisted in a fluster as her glass began filling again, “you are the one being an instigator!”

Laughing Saoirse off, Brighid remarked, “I am not! I only want little light to be comfortable, dove.”

“Just,” she anxiously stressed, “don’t make her so comfortable, please.” Seemingly defeated, Saoirse slumped over and cradled her head while nursing her drink.

Looking back at Elva with an amused chuckle, Brighid remarked, “You were asking about my mother. Yes, she was a witch, as my dove mentioned.” Taking a drink with Saoirse as she groaned, they continued, “Roisin. She was brilliant, taught me all the witchcraft I know, even if I can’t perform it well. I suppose her passing wasn’t so unexpected for a mortal of her time, but I still miss her so. Saoirse never had a chance to meet her, unfortunately.” Looking down as their eyes finally turned sullen, they quietly commented, “Perhaps if she were still with us, Saoirse’s transition would have been, well—less—”

Grunting with their pause, Saoirse tiredly tried to halt them, “Mother.”

“I’m sorry, dove,” Brighid curtly remarked, “but do you want to explain more about yourself today or do you want someone else who understands some of what you went through to give you a break?”

Huffing as her eyes shut and her head fell in resignation, Saoirse conceded, “No, you can—explain.” Grabbing another few slices of cheese, Saoirse silently slumped back and gulped some wine before munching on her food.

Sighing and shaking their head, Brighid continued, “When I found Saoirse after what happened between Meranlynx and Aileene, the poor thing had somehow flown all the way to Jerne—Éire more or less, if you’re familiar with the name of our homeland—quite a ways away in the Outer Key. I’d never been much of a healer, but—” As they paused and took a drink, Brighid’s tone became more careful when they continued, “Well, five days without proper attention caused a great deal of scarring. Regardless of her injuries, changing Saoirse’s biology afterwards wasn’t easy—and it didn’t go as planned either.”

First glancing at Saoirse, who quickly ate her food and eagerly drank more, Elva cautiously asked, “What—didn’t go as planned?”

Brighid’s grin faded as they answered, “Changing Saoirse from an incubus into a succubus. We thought we wrote the spell correctly, but it wasn’t painless and—had side-effects.” Before Elva had a chance to ask, Brighid answered, “Saoirse lost her natural energy in the process and for a long time—a very long time—”

“Four centuries,” Saoirse tiredly whispered before taking a large drink of wine.

Elva guessed Brighid didn’t hear as they continued, “—she felt constant agony from her physical changes. All she wanted to do was sleep, but that was hardly easy. She experienced other side-effects too—Oh!” they suddenly hooted before standing up and setting their plate down. Rushing into the kitchen just before there was a strange ting, Brighid exclaimed, “The cake is ready!”

Elva hardly questioned when her glass slowly filled after she took another sip. Her sight seemed fuzzy as she glanced back to the platter and took another few slices of cheese. Saoirse also reached forward as Elva cautiously asked, “What were the other effects?”

Heavily sighing as she slumped into the sofa, Saoirse took another drink before tiredly answering, “Well, the transformation didn’t change me quite like I’d hoped. Only incubi have horns, but instead of losing mine, they grew longer, just like my wings. My pheromones were brand new to me and, not only did I still have my aphrodisiacs, they smelled different and plagued me at night.” As she glared at her glass, Saoirse remarked, “For so long I smelled raspberries all day—and it was hardly relaxing—while with the moonrise it felt like the fresh scent of lavender drove my desire mad.”

“Mad is putting it lightly, dove!” Brighid corrected her from the kitchen. “You couldn’t stand to have anyone around you, especially me!”

Huffing before she mutely retorted, “You don’t need to put it so bluntly,” Saoirse quietly continued after taking a large drink. “But I’m not sure if that was worse or how sharper my mind reading became. I used to be able to control whose thoughts I read, but afterwards—” Gently rubbing her temples, Saoirse chugged the rest of her wine before pointing out, “Do you hear the songbirds outside?” Turning to the wide portals before them, Elva quietly listened to their light chirping while observing the warm, dimming sun before nodding in agreement.

“All they sing about is fucking.” Before Elva could look confused, Saoirse elaborated, “Having sex, being one. That’s all they ever sing about! I thought frogs were bad when I first heard them, but the birds are so much worse!” Groaning as she drank more of her filled glass, Saoirse finished, “It’s so distracting!”

Returning with three new platters, Brighid tiredly remarked, “I thought I needed to be careful with my thoughts when Saoirse had to look me in the eye. Oh, the things that cross your mind when you think no one is listening.”

Saoirse quietly grumbled as she took a dish while Elva scrambled to put down her nearly finished plate and glass first. Elva examined the multilayered item before she noticed strawberry slices within the white, fluffy layers. “What is this?” she asked while picking up the metallic fork.

Already cutting into theirs, Brighid answered, “Strawberry shortcake,” before eating a large mouthful.

Hardly needing convincing after watching Saoirse eagerly consume her portion, Elva tried to collect some on her utensil and sampled it. She instantly moaned in pleasure while biting into the soft cake, savoring the new, sweet flavors with a wide grin as the strawberries blended in. “This is delicious!” Elva remarked before quickly taking her next bite.

With a pleased hum, Brighid soon replied, “Thank you, little light. I’m sure Saoirse can make it for you again sometime.” They ate their delicacy in relative silence until Brighid commented, “It’s so nice we’re able to talk, Elva. I never got the chance to meet Saph or Aileene; Meranlynx kept me out of Saoirse’s life after he started training her. Oh, and to think you’re a witch of Éire and a disciple of Brigit.”

Quickly finishing her mouthful, Elva held her questions back as she tried to explain, “Well, I-I guess I’m a witch, but Móra wasn’t able to teach me much Wiccacant before—she—” Elva shyly looked away before she could finish; the pleasant warmth that muddled her thoughts kept her from feeling as anxious about remembering.

Brighid softly shushed Elva as they said, “I’m sorry, dearie. I didn’t mean to bring up something so delicate.” Quickly shifting the subject, Brighid mentioned, “I taught Saoirse Wiccacant when she was younger. Such a poetic language, I wasn’t surprised how much she enjoyed it after her interest in Saph’s poetry. It’s a shame our connection to witchcraft is so tied to our wiccan blood or Saoirse would be a natural, I’m sure.”

Elva finished her last bite of cake as she interjected, “I-I’m sorry, who is Saph?”

Looking back at her with a confused glance, Brighid remarked, “The Poetess. Surely Saoirse has sung you some of their lyrics by now! They’re all Saoirse would sing when she was growing up, though after—”

“Mother,” Saoirse insisted as she set her plate down. “Can you please allow me a little privacy! I’ll—talk about Saph myself, so please, just—continue.” After picking her glass back up, Saoirse glanced away before taking a large drink with a deep blush .

Leaning back into their armchair, Brighid said, “Sorry, dove. I only meant to say their mother tongue is quite beautiful, and you took it up well after you met them.” Brighid looked back to Elva before she remarked, “I’m sure Saoirse will be a wonderful mentor to teach you Wiccacant, but if you ever wish to talk with someone else who grew up on Éire, I want you to know you can always reach out to me. I can perform a little more witchcraft than Saoirse, so perhaps I can provide some ass—”

“Mother!’ Saoirse practically shouted, nearly spilling her wine as she lurched forward. “Please. Elva and I only have a one week contract, so—please don’t make her so comfortable yet.”

Elva felt her heart sink a bit while she reflected, ‘Not even a week, now.’ After taking a drink, she watched Brighid’s expression turn indifferent as they closed their eyes and sipped from their glass.

After a drawn out pause, Brighid glanced over Saoirse before giving Elva a curious look. With a sly smile and a quick wink, Brighid looked at Saoirse and inquired, “Just a week?”

Saoirse glared at Brighid while she replied, “That’s what we’ve agreed to.” Carefully bringing her glass to her lips, Saoirse asked before taking a drink, “What are you insinuating?”

“I’m insinuating,” Brighid quietly stated, “that for a girl that will only be here a week, you were awfully eager to get your tail wet.”

Spitting out her wine and choking before wiping her mouth, Saoirse swiftly stood up and shrieked, “Get out!!”

“What did you want me to say?!” Brighid implored with a shrug as Saoirse pushed them out of their chair. “It’s been flicking from under your dress all afternoon! Did you not notice your hair was natural?!”

Glancing at her locks for only a heartbeat, Saoirse gaped before directing them towards the entry hallway and repeating, “Get out!”

Elva struggled to stand up through her daze to see them pass around the corner. ‘Oh, Brigit,’ Elva reflected with a heavy blush as she stumbled after them, ‘I suppose her tail did get wet when she—’

Shuddering and feeling needy as she began to recall, Elva only snapped up to continue her pursuit as Saoirse loudly insisted, “I didn’t ask for your advice! Get out!”

Rounding the corner as they reached the door, Brighid persisted, “At least take these; you’ll run out of canvas soon!” They pushed a few tiny bottles into Saoirse’s dress and added with a giggle, “And those are for if you doves need to sober up soon!”

“OUT!!” Saoirse screeched as she threw the gateway open and pushed Brighid through.

Before falling from her hazed view, Brighid quickly urged, “Move your ring instead of fiddling with it so much!”

The exit slammed shut as Saoirse gruffed and leaned against the wood. She seemed to relax as Elva approached, but she gradually fell to her knees before turning around, slamming her back flat against the gateway. Tiredly sighing as she held her head and brought her knees up, Saoirse quietly asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to find a more competent Mistress?”

Feeling her heart throb, Elva held her hands and insisted, “Please don’t ask me that.” Even as Saoirse held herself tighter, Elva came closer and persisted, “I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for your help and kindness.” When she reached Saoirse and knelt in front of her, Elva warmly embraced her to add, “And, I don’t regret—anything that’s happened between us, Mistress Saoirse. So, please don’t worry about me so much.”

Saoirse sighed as she tilted into Elva’s hug and whispered, “Just, don’t regret saying that later.”

—Spoiler—

I hope everyone is feeling a little more relaxed, because we only have a little more exposition before the sexy-times return! What about Saoirse’s relationship with Saph is so personal that she won’t talk about it in front of her mother? Elva learns about Saoirse’s first love and self-discovery in Chapter 16: Kitten.

—End Spoiler—

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