Fairy Godmother (part 2) Masking Tape 2018/09/04 (Tue) 10:55
No. 2199
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The boy awoke with a jolt and a yelp of surprise as something slapped him in the face. After a moment of confused fumbling, he found it to be his own clothes - clean, mended and toasty warm.
The fairy smiled at her sleepyheaded guest from the doorway, then floated serenely away.
The boy quickly changed. The warmth of the clothes helped keep the chill of the underground air at bay, at least for the time being. Carefully inspecting his bad leg, he found it to be almost entirely lacking in feeling still. It would be a while before he walked again, it seemed.
As he swung his legs, both good and bad, over the side of the bed, and pondered how he was going to proceed, he spied something leaning on the wall beside the bed. It was a cane of sorts, roughly fashioned of the same pale, bonelike substance he'd encountered twice already. It seemed tall for him at first, but as he rose and braced himself against it, he found the oddly-shaped top nestled perfectly under his shoulder.
Memory and a luminescent blush returned as he recalled that his hostess had a very good idea of his proportions - and he of hers.
With surprising ease once he got used to the odd arrangement, he made his way to the dining room, or at least the one he supposed to be it - the one with the table. He found it without difficulty, but it proved to be devoid of fairy. As if sensing his thoughts, however, she promptly appeared at one of the other doors, carrying another bowl of food.
"Good morning," they boy said automatically as he maneuvered awkardly into his chair.
"
Good morning."
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Fairy Godmother (part 3) Masking Tape 2018/09/04 (Tue) 10:57
No. 2200
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The boy quickly lost count of the days he spent in the fairy's care. It wasn't that they were many - he still woke confused by his strange surroundings - but here in the silent, gloomy underground world, 'day' held very little meaning. Whatever clock by which the residents of this strange little community rose and slept, if indeed there was one, was hidden from him.
Boredom, too, played a part. His hostess was clearly no idle hand and left him often to his own devices. During those times he had naught but books for company, for she would not hear of him leaving the house until his leg was mended and he could walk unaided. Of the times when she remained, she would occasionally entertain him with the board game she had purchased (so she said) especially for his sake; but just as often she would take it upon herself to further his understanding of the written word, or fill other gaps in his learning.
She was, the boy thought to himself, altogether too motherly. He resented none of it, though; for while she would occasionally mock his ignorance, when he all-too-frequently failed to keep it in check, she never belittled the boy himself. He was a guest in her house, no more and no less; though she clearly had the wisdom and responsibility, if not the appearance, of an adult, she never once treated him as a child.
It was a new and sobering experience. It was also very effective; he desired so much to earn the respect given him that he studied harder under her than he ever had in his life.
Though it had to be said that respect was perhaps not the only thing he desired: their continued shared bathing was driving him to levels of arousal he had no idea how to deal with. He certainly enjoyed these times, and eventually even overcame his embarassment about them, but her indifference left him floundering. He understood enough to know that she could not possibly have failed to notice, and yet she showed no sign of either reciprocation or rejection.
In
this matter he was most certainly a child, and he knew it.
But then one morning - if indeed it was a morning - something finally happened to take his mind off things.
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Masking Tape
2018/09/04 (Tue) 10:59
No. 2201
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I actually finished these ages ago but forgot to fucking post them. I hate my life.
