She had been aware of the change in the place long before she had ever met the Brownie. It had reminded her of the tale of ‘The Elves and the Shoe Maker’ and she had laughed at the impossibility of it all as she thought about it. She was enjoying the help that came though, even if it did seem magically impossible. A self-cleaning house? Why should she care when the jobs were all done? She supposed there must be more to it however, and while she enjoyed what came, she did wonder what the price would be and if, one day, she would be required to pay for it all somehow. Life had a way of doing that, but human nature also had a way of making sure that the eat now pay later sort of practice was the one employed.
The Brownie knew she was taking advantage but he cared little of this. It was in his nature, after all, to be helping and serving. It made him happy to watch her smile when she got up to see what he had done. The place cleaned to sparkling, the laundry folded to perfection and the pile of tattie scones waiting for her to devour. He loved that part the best. The way her mouth moved as she tasted the food he had made for her, lips opening and closing around the succulent potato. Yes, he enjoyed that even as much as he enjoyed the rise and fall of her breasts as she sipped her coffee and the way that her nipples seemed to harden through her pyjama top as he watched her.
He felt himself harden in response as he watched and he thought about her. She was his Queen. He was happy to serve under her. He gained great pleasure from doing those little thing for her which would make her life easier and make her happy. That was all he had really cared about since finding her. He was hers. It was as they said after all. A Brownie will move on, enjoying the magical mischief he creates, but when he finds his destiny that will be where he rests. He had been in a number of homes previously and he had enjoyed himself but he had never felt like this before. Serving her woke parts of him he had not known of before, and he had no desire for those ever to return to sleep again.
And so they continued in this pattern for some time until, one day, she caught him. He had been watching as usual and had got caught up in the way she made him feel. His long fingers had wrapped around his hardened cock, and it had suddenly spewed its sticky mess without warning, leading him to gasp as it did so. Too late to retreat, she had seen him in the act, eyes locating him in the dark corner where he had been concealed so many times previously. She had screamed of course. It would have been odd if she had not, considering the way he looked and what he was doing. But then she had demanded to know what he was and what he was doing there.
He had told her that he was a Brownie then. He added that he thought she knew what he was doing and that she must have known that she was not alone. And although it would seem strange to others, she accepted what he said without further discussion. Perhaps because she had known that something was afoot, or because she had thought that one day she might have to provide something in return, she agreed to let the Brownie remain in the house with her. They negotiated between them what one would provide for the other and the arrangement seemed to be satisfactory all around. He called her his Queen, and she felt like perhaps she was.
As the nature of the Brownie is, he took his service to her increasingly more seriously. He no longer just wanted to look after the house and cook her food, he wanted to serve her in other ways too. He became familiar not just with her routines and her preferences around the home, but he also noted the way her moods changed. He felt the air shift with the peaks and dips in mood that were part of who she was, and he came to learn more about the things that made her laugh and made her flush. He wanted to be close to her and, once finished his chores, would creep into the bedroom to watch her sleep, sitting on the end of her bed.
Wanting more even than this, the Brownie worked his way closer night by night, until at last he was in her bed, close enough to smell her skin and to catch the scent of her arousal as she dreamt. She knew of course. She was not stupid, and although initially finding the Brownie abhorrent to look at with his tiny frame and wizened old man’s face, she came to see a certain rugged beauty when she thought of him. And she did think of him. She saw again the look on his face as she had seen him pleasure himself that first time, and she would feel herself grow wet despite herself, and despite her disgust at what he was. She knew she was teasing him with the way she moved and the parts of herself she revealed, but it felt as right to her as accepting his service did.
And so the inevitability that was always part of their destiny brought them together one night, as the storm which raged outside woke her to find him there next to her. His eyes bore into her with a question which must have been answered because she soon felt the length of his spindly fingers tracing her body. It was as if they ignited parts of her she had denied for so long and she responded with deep low moans which could have been part of his very own faerie world. His mouth clasped around her nipple and she felt a delicious sting of pain as it was sucked inside. She felt his tongue against the sensitive tip as he drew it in further under the strength of the suction, lengthening it to the point where she felt she might burst.
It may have been magic but he seemed to be everywhere at once. His fingers plucked, stroked and teased at her body and his mouth seemed to be in more places than possible. She wanted nothing more than to be devoured by him and was willing to allow him full access to anything he wished at this point. She felt him part her legs and, the little cock she had seen him tend that first day, and had so often thought about since, slid slowly inside her. Although she knew the size would in no way be enough, somehow it more than filled her. In fact it burned with a heat as she stretched and relaxed to accommodate him.
As he ravished her physically, she was able to let go in a way she never had before. She seemed suspended in time as he held her there, lost in her own pleasure. He worked her body, manipulating and managing its responses so that he kept her right at the peak of her orgasm. She seemed to roll on and off the tip of her climax in a way which was excruciating and ecstatic at the same time. And the Brownie held her there for hours as he served her in the way that he knew best. She was his Queen and he would love her in a way that no one ever had, nor ever could again. Twisted as it was, this was their destiny.
A brownie also known as a brùnaidh or gruagach (Gaelic), is a household spirit from folklore that is said to come out at night while the owners of the house are asleep and perform various chores. Brownies are described as easily offended and will leave their homes forever if they feel they have been insulted or in any way taken advantage of. Brownies are characteristically mischievous and if angered, they are sometimes said to turn malicious, like boggarts.
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