I stood in an apron, the air brushing against my bare and sore ass. My cheeks were still sore and aflame from the heavy abuse they took from the night before. Giselle had been too exhausted to wake up with me so I let her sleep while I raided her kitchen and prepared a meal for us both. The thoughts of playing with her a little had been tempting. Teasing her by feeding her slowly while still naked except for the apron. But that would be asking for the very thing I requested she not do to me today.
Folding the omelet in half the cheese sealed in the bell peppers, smoked ham, and carmelized onions. The many hours in the brothel kitchen cooking meals for the higher end clients paying off. If only I could marry a woman and be a wife at home. Wouldn’t that just be nice. I sliced the morsel in half and plated each of them. The cheese melting and oozing from the fluffy perfectly cooked eggs.
Giselle let out a loud yawn as she strode into the kitchen in just her nightgown. She paused and stared at me. “That’s not fair. I knew you warned me that you would remain naked but still. Just not fair.”
I resisted the urge to wiggle my ass to her and instead looked over my shoulder with a smile. “You’re just in time for breakfast Lady Silverstein. Head to the table and I’ll be right out. I set it for the two of us.”
I grabbed the two plates and sauntered after her. Feeling content and proud of myself after a night of hard work. There was some soreness in my hips from all the thrusting. The new toy required muscles I wasn’t used to. Especially with my hands tied behind my back.
The lady stretched, her tummy showing as her shirt rode up just a little. “Smells delightful. I’m used to cooking for myself.” She settled into the head of the six person table in her dining room. Her frosted glass windows protecting my modesty as I set her food down in front of her.
I perched carefully on the edge of the seat. Doing my best not to settle on the skin that screamed for some sort of relief. “Well, I hope you enjoy. You had quite the fresh vegetables and I couldn’t help myself but use them.” I took my first bite and the gooey cheese, soft egg, and subtle resistance of the bell pepper mixed in a way that put my hand to my cheek and I moaned softly.
Lady Silverstein’s eyes were closed as she looked up and chewed her own bite. A low purr in her throat before she swallowed her own bite and looked at me, “That is rather delightful. I usually use a hair more salt, but with the smoked pork it doesn’t need it.”
“Thank you Giselle. I thought it would balance out in the end myself.” I took another bite and tried to settle back with a wince.
Lady Silverstein looked at me with a bit of guilt in her eyes. “I have some soothing oils you can use. I might have treated your poor behind a little harshly.”
Smiling at her I nodded, “That would be very kind of you. Are you fine with me being in your study while you send for some clothes for me?” Another bite and another burst of flavor that sated my growling stomach with every flex of my jaw.
“Yes, I left the bookmarked page you had last time you visited and snuck off to read after I passed out.” I flushed in my own guilt as I looked at the food on my plate. She chuckled, “I knew it wasn’t me that left it there. Two flowers in an attic is a classic, its imagery is fine and the sweet story, even if it ends in darkness, is very pleasant to me.”
“What I read was truly wonderful. Though yes, it has some sadness in it.” Some that we can relate to as well. Being shunned for what we want most in the world. “Thank you, I apologize for my previous impropriety.”
She waved a hand back and forth, “Think nothing of it. I was the one that banished you from the bedroom so I could sleep. It was strange being able to sleep next to someone last night. I had such pleasant dreams.” Almost disappointed she pushed her plate away. It had already been cleared in her haste to eat. “I must have been hungrier than I thought.”
“Don’t forget to drink plenty of water. I always worry you’re going to dry up with how you burst like a dam each time we are together.” Her flush was beautiful and I basked in its glow for a moment. That old ache that I was just a purchased bed warmer being partially forgotten but never truly gone.
“Truly I am taken with thirst. I’ll go get dressed and send a messenger for your clothes. I’ll come see you in the study afterward and we can sit together. It has been a time since I had the quiet company of another while reading.” She stretched one more time and the cute little grunt of relief as something in her back cracked made my lips twitch.
I watched her own hips sway as she walked from the room. Our statuses were too different even if I hadn’t been hired to sate her. There was no way for me to ever truly be content to be at her side. I took the last of my bites and retrieved the plates.
Standing in the sink I scrubbed the plates clean before setting them on the drying rack. Sighing I ran my finger down the china. Is trying to seduce my way into a princess’s bed any different? My mind tried to think of anything but the future. As long as it isn’t a lifetime in the brothel.
Walking upstairs I felt the sore muscles in my legs give their compliments to the work we had done together. I tried my fingers on the railing and entered into her private but small study. She had one small desk with a chair and two large plush chairs. Her wall of poetry that were thinly veiled homages to the way her heart functioned looked out at anyone inside it. Sitting upon a side table next to a chair was the book I had pulled last time I had been here over a month ago. However there wasn’t dust upon it so she had just remembered what I had been reading and left it out for me.
Whoever did end up with Giselle would be a happily kept woman. At least I hoped they would be and wouldn’t just toss her to the side. The soft felt of the chair didn’t hurt my backside too much as I pulled the book into my lap and ran a finger down its spine. “The flowers should never be plucked, they should only ever be visited by the bees, where their pollen could pass from one to another in an eternal quest to join together. But it will never be.” I was maybe a tenth of the way through the book and had been thinking about it since the last time I was here.
Opening it up I perused the poetic words as it spoke about two stolen flowers, where they were once free and in the plains of heaven, forever shined upon and filled with happiness. Only for in their moment of maturity, where they had finally been able to share their pollen should a bee wish to join them.
Put in darkness and sealed away the two flowers were crushed beneath the pages of a religious text. Said for their own preservation. To make them last for an eternity while everything they stood for before was pressed from their petals. It only cost them their freedom and sunshine. Sealed inside glass their pollen would never meet.
My own wilting flower, that had never been plucked, walked into the room with me. She was in a loose gown, her neck and chest covered by a high collar. Her smile had a hint of sadness in it, “I wasn’t the only one to leave marks it seems.”
I remembered sucking upon the hills of her breasts and biting down upon the delicious skin in a moment of passion. Though I flushed I knew in my heart that I had wanted to leave some mark on her. “Oh? I hadn’t noticed while you were in your gown. I hope they aren’t too inconvenient.”
“Not to worry, I’m sure it will all be fine. I sent a letter to the Garden for you to be taken care of. I notified your mother that you would be returned to her tonight and that nothing else would happen.” She sat upon the chair next to me and stared at the wall, no doubt in thought of what she would read. Her hand rested there and I found I couldn’t help myself.
Reaching over I interlaced our fingers casually and looked away. I could feel her eyes upon my hand as she hesitated. Not knowing what to think about it. Then her own fingers closed upon mine and she fished a book out from nearby. We sat in companionable silence as we read our poetry.
“How do you find the story?” It was a quiet question. A volume that can only be spoken in the silence or in a moment of true intimacy.
“It saddens me. To think that such beautiful things were taken from their rightful place. To be made into something they were not supposed to be naturally. Then, placed near one another on a mantle, forever close, but never truly connecting the way they had wanted.” I flipped another page.
“Truly, though there is something to be said about being able to live even a small time in your truth. Don’t you agree?”
Thinking on it I squeezed her hand, “It would be a shame to have never known what it felt like. For a flower to meet another and share its pollen. The torture though, of having been so close and then to be made to keep an artificial barrier between the two.”
“Some find the imagery to be a little heavy handed. I had a few girls that when they read it didn’t see the true loss in it. That it wasn’t that they were made to forever be near one another. But that they never joined in the way they wanted.” Giselle looked at me.
“Then let us be the flowers that remain unplucked and to have shared our nectar with one another. So that we may never be pressed into something we do not want to be.” I flipped a page, keeping my eyes from drifting to the woman.
“Yet it is also the free flower’s knowledge to know that forever more it will only feel another flower’s pollen and nectar in passing. That their roots will never truly join as one.” Her own book opened as her eyes finally left my face while I studiously tried to keep a feigned distance between us.
“Does this author have more work? This Duchess Rachelle Stableheart. Her poetry is such a wonderfully provocative piece.”
“Shamefully no. She adopted a young boy to inherit her estate and after his eighteenth birthday she took a trip to the sea and never returned. Her boat was never found out in the waters.”
We both knew the truth of what happened without having to say more. It was a shame to lose someone that felt the things that we ourselves felt. But if I had been the flower, pressed and shaped against her will, would I have had the strength to go on? “The sea is a dangerous place. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the courage to visit it.”
“I’ve thought of going there a few times. When I was alone. It was only a letter that stopped me from doing so. The news of my sister’s first girl being born. How wonderfully she wrote about the girl’s youthful beauty. Truly a wonder. If only I hadn’t been cursed to never be able to have my own.”
“You would have let yourself be plucked if it meant having your own children wouldn’t you?” I looked at her finally and the seriousness in her face.
“In a heartbeat. Truly if I could have prayed hard enough to make it a reality I would have. The heavens are cruel to us sometimes. Even if we would give away everything to make a dream come true.” Her eyes remained glued on her page as she read. My own heart ached for her.
We let the silence stretch between us as we read our books. I thought of all the things she had mentioned and wondered to myself if I would ever have the drive to bring a life into this world.