Mallory: Comedy Club Night

Sometimes, when you live with faeries, you have to be careful what you wish for…

Sunday night, I got together with Mallory to go to a comedy club. I know this girl who works there and was able to get tickets to a VIP table. Mallory looked pretty hot, that night. She’d tied her hair in a French braid and was wearing a sexy black summer dress that didn’t cover much of her thighs. The whole outfit was completed with black pumps that gave her a lot more class than her normal clothes would suggest. To be honest, the old me would have been pretty intimidated, being with a girl like this. But knowing that she already liked me kind of gave me confidence I didn’t have before.

The show started and we laughed a lot. It turns out having a VIP table isn’t entirely a good thing. It means you’re in full view of the comedians, so they can make fun of you. All part of the price of admission, I guess. So the warm-up guy took a few pot shots at me, asking if I’d hired “her” (referring to Mallory) or if she was my sister. I laughed, har har, so very funny. I replied out loud, “No, it’s YOUR sister!” Double har har. The audience laughed. The comedian rolled with it. “I’m Corsican, buddy. Are you sure you like my sister?” When I hesitated, he faked pulling out a knife and waved it in my direction. “What? WHAT?!? You don’t like my sister?!?” More laughter.

The show went on. I’ll be honest, I was a bit more interested by Mallory’s long white legs than by the show and she eventually noticed. She winked at me and patted my thigh. Then she left her hand there, as if by accident. It wasn’t an accident, though. I could tell she was heating up a little. Finally, I thought. When the show stopped for the intermission, her hand was still in the same place. Heck, was I imagining this or had she kind of crept closer to my crotch?

“Hey, Mal,” I started. “Careful where you put those fingers, I normally charge for this, you know?”

“Your loss,” she said, laughing. Even I could tell it was the practiced laugh and smile of a player. She took her hand off my thigh and caressed the side of my face. She wasn’t buying my banter, that much was obvious, but it wasn’t turning her off. In fact, in an odd case of cognitive dissonance, it looked like she was getting hotter. Were those indentations I noticed on the front of her dress, where her nipples should be? I didn’t dare break eye contact to check, but I was pretty sure I was right. I put my hand over hers, trapping it against my cheek.

“Look, I gotta settle something.” I took a deep breath. “I’m kind of getting mixed signals, here…”

She blushed a little. This wasn’t practiced, this was real. She was getting very excited. About me. It was kind of flattering, too.

“Mixed signals, eh? You’re a fine one to talk…” Her flush deepened and she fanned herself with the drinks menu on our table. “You’re all about mixed signals. Obviously Brooke taught you well.”

I mulled that over for a second, slightly confused. I looked at her. There were no mixed signals now, that was for sure. I’d been using my faerie sight long enough to know when a girl was good and ready, and Mallory was as ready as they came. Then I had an epiphany.

“You think I’m playing you? That’s why you’re stalling? You think I’m a pick-up artist?”

She nodded. “Obviously. If Brooke called me in to stall you when you were hunting for phone numbers, that’s because you must be pretty good. He’s never called me for help before.

My jaw dropped. I had my first epiphany of the night (I’ll get to the second one in a moment). I’ve become a player. And if Mallory’s testimony is any indication, a pretty good one at that. Truth is, I don’t believe I am, but with the help of my faerie sight, I can see how someone would think that.

“Mal, you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m just the reverse. Not even close to being a player, not one bit.”

She leaned in closer. There was molten fire in her eyes. And from the look of things, her eyes weren’t the only parts of her that were melting. She parted her lips and leaned further in to kiss me. Suddenly, everything was hot and vibrant. I lingered into the kiss for a long moment, until a tiny voice chirped into my ear.

“There,” Minx said. “She’s all good and ready for you. You can thank me later.”

The moment was shattered like a broken mirror. Damn that faerie!!! My eyes flew open and I pushed Mallory back a little. That took her by surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

I tried to recover quickly, looking for an explanation that would make sense. This must have been my lucky day because a comedian just stepped onto the stage at that very moment.

“Show’s restarting,” I said. “Let’s not draw attention to ourselves.”

And so the show went on while I sat next to a very, very hot girl who spent the next hour squirming onto her seat.

Damn those faeries!

–Jaycee
“I’m doing it.”

Mallory and Me…

I’ve known Brooke for at least ten years, now, but he never said anything about his cousin Mallory. I guess that shouldn’t be such a surprise. When you think about it, how many cousins of your friends do you know? Not many, I’m sure.

That other night when we went hunting for phone numbers, I have to admit I was pretty shocked when Brooke introduced her to me. But beyond the fact I’d never heard of her, I was surprised by how much in control she is. Thanks to my faerie sight, I can clearly tell she’s really into me, but in another way, I’m stunned at her ability to resist her impulses. I don’t need to nudge her, she’s already on my side. She’s playful, she’s funny, and she’s quite a tease at times, but I just can’t seem to get her over that threshold.

I’ll admit, I’ve given some thought to bringing Minx with me next time I go out, and ask her to make some magic happen, but part of me is resisting that urge. Mallory is a puzzle that I WANT to figure out on my own. Having some faerie help would just spoil that.

Anyway, we’ve been hanging out in town the last few nights. I’ll let you know how things progress.

–Jaycee
“I’m doing it.”

Arachnophobia

I think I’ve found out something interesting about Attitude. Maybe it’s something about all faeries, I don’t know.

Earlier today, I was cleaning up Cleopatra’s terrarium. (Cleopatra is my pet tarantula, if you didn’t remember.) I generally clean it up every few months to make sure it’s… well, clean. While I was cleaning up, I put Cleo away in the kitchen sink, figuring she’d be safe (wouldn’t fall off the kitchen counter). Tarantulas can’t climb stainless. While I was busy cleaning up the terrarium, however, Attitude flew by to see what I was up to. When she noticed the terrarium was empty (i.e. there was no tarantula), she paled and look around in a panic. She didn’t say anything, but I know my faeries and this one was terrified. Finally, she spotted Cleo in the sink and flew away prudently.

“You shouldn’t let that creature roam freely,” she said, her voice breaking a little. “Those things are filthy.”

“She’s not free,” I replied, “she’s in the sink. She’s not going anywhere.”

Attitude shrugged.

“I can kill it for you, if you want,” she offered. When I shook my head, she continued. “You like that creature?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s not as dangerous as people say, you know.”

“They’re filthy,” she repeated. “Maybe I’ll kill it while you sleep or when you’re gone.”

And she flew away, not waiting for my reaction.

I guess faeries don’t like spiders much. At least Attitude doesn’t.

–Jaycee

History of Faeries (I)

Last week, I questioned Minx to learn more about the history of faeries as well as the bad blood there is between them and humans. Bear in mind the following is a junior faerie’s opinion on the matter and it may be inaccurate in many ways. But perhaps it will help better understand how they feel about us.

ME: I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Attitude would never answer me this, but I hope you will.

MINX: Okie. Whatcha wanna know?

ME: Why do faeries hate humans so much?

MINX: Oh, THAT. Because we love you so much, s’why.

ME (after a pause): Not the answer I was expecting. But if I think about it, that’s an almost-human answer… We did something really bad, didn’t we?

MINX: Yup. You enslaved and killed lots of us.

ME: Well, if you tortured humans the way Attitude did me, I can imagine my ancestors would have gotten upset and–

MINX (frowning): No! That’s a silly notion! We LOVE humans, we almost can’t help–

Attitude arrived just at that moment and put a hand on Minx’s mouth.

ATTITUDE: Minx, you SHUSH now! I don’t care how much you like your human, you do NOT share our history with them.

MINX: MmffF?

ME: C’mon, Attitude, you don’t need to hide things from me. I’m not your enemy…

She glared at me and pointed a threatening finger.

ATTITUDE: YOU of all people better stay away from me! I may not be allowed to curse you anymore, but if you don’t want to be sexually assaulted by every person you meet in the street, you’ll back off.

ME: Whoa, all right, all right, I hear you. I just thought–

ATTITUDE: Don’t THINK! That’s how you humans get into TROUBLE. A little feeling wouldn’t hurt you, from time to time.

And with this, she let Minx go and flew away. I looked at my little faerie friend and saw tears welling up in her eyes.

MINX: I’m rilly sorry, Jaycee.

And she flew away.

Life Update

So here’s how things have been lately.

First, Brooke and Meghan. With Brooke’s “situation,” you might have been wondering how their couple survived that setback. It probably won’t surprise you that the whole thing freaked Meghan out in the beginning. She already knew male-Brooke from way back, when she and I used to date, so the appearance change was less than a shock. The real problem was the… y’know, lack of male tools and all. As it turns out, though, Brooke’s a master at this particular type of craft and I get hints (from Meghan, actually) that some earth-shattering orgasms have changed her mind.

Jennifer is gone. Not from my life, I mean, but gone from the country. She took an IT contract in France (somewhere in Provence) until the end of August. I follow her adventures on facebook and she seems to be enjoying herself quite a bit. Her French was already very good (I think), so I’m assuming it’ll be great when she gets back.

Morgan’s been coming over to my place from time to time. Attitude is the one who’s insisted I have her come over here because she wants to “study” her a bit more. For me, well… you know the drill. Lots of sex and all that. Attitude hasn’t shared her conclusions with me, but Minx says that the curses on Morgan are pretty complicated. She also says that Attitude gets very upset when Minx asks her questions about it. I think Attitude doesn’t actually understand the magic that’s on Morgan and that makes her irritable.

There’s been an interesting development in my faerie sight, by the way. I’m calling it the Nudge. As you probably know, I can tell a woman’s level of arousal pretty easily thanks to the Sight. That’s been a fantastic help in finding out if I have a shot or not with a girl. But there’s this gray, middle area where a girl is neither interested nor repelled by me. Normally, things either go one way or the other depending on what I say or do. But lately, with some coaching from Minx, I’ve discovered I can nudge a girl favorably toward me. I guess it’s more of a tug than a nudge, but why quibble over semantics.

So with this in hand, yesterday I went to a dance club where Brooke and I used to go and decided to try my luck with some of the girls there. I’m glad to report it was a success. I left with a dozen phone numbers, some from girls who even insisted I take it without my asking. I’m kind of tempted to challenge Brooke and see which one of us can get the most numbers in an evening. Am I becoming a ladies’ man? I guess so.

There’s just one down side to the whole thing: doing Nudges repeatedly gave me a pretty nasty headache by the end of the evening. But hey, I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right?

–Jaycee

The Mysterious Faerie

With Attitude now back, you’d think my life would be completely chaotic and all, but she’s been surprisingly subdued. In fact, most of the time, I don’t see her in the apartment. It’s like I’m the least of her worries. I’ve tried several times asking her about where she was during the last year, but she didn’t say much. I only know she went to some kind of faerie court to find out more about who was that unknown faerie that was messing with Morgan. With what I learned recently (about this Old Crow fellow), combined with what I’ve discovered about faeries in general, I think I’ve got a scenario that could possibly explain everything that happened.

In a nutshell: Old Crow has a faerie friend, similar to the way Minx and I are friends. Whereas I think I’ve got a handle on my own dark impulses (and I’ll admit I’ve worked with Minx to do some mischief in the past), I suspect Old Crow is a pretty sad fellow who just loves to humiliate women. Faeries, by and large, don’t mess with each other’s humans, but perhaps this one was talked into it by Old Crow.

This has gotten me thinking, though… Saving Minx from Cleopatra was an accident and she rewarded me by sharing her true name with me. Yay Jaycee and all that. But let’s put this in the context of human nature for a second. What if someone decided to do it deliberately? How many faeries are there in the world and how many can one “befriend” in total?

This is a pretty sobering thought.

–Jaycee

[$] Brooke — Missing Bodies

MEMBERS-ONLY ENTRY

Brooke is not having a good time. After his transformation back to a guy last week, he had no choice but to tell Meghan what happened to him. She was a little freaked out, but they’re working it out.

Attitude is pretty happy with herself over this one. I’ve tried to talk some sense into her, but she won’t budge. Since I’m friends with Minx, she doesn’t really try to curse me anymore, but she can still affect my friends, so I have to tread carefully. Plus, Minx explained to me that being a faerie friend doesn’t confer IMMUNITY to faerie magic, just better resistance to it. I’m not sure I want to find out what that means.

But back to Brooke. The thing that REALLY puzzles me, right now, is this: after the Mexican holiday, s/he and Mandy had swapped bodies. So the Brooke I was seeing was actually Mandy’s body. Mandy herself was inside Brooke’s female body. Now that Brooke is (mostly) back in his male body, what does that mean for Mandy herself? I’ve tried to ask Attitude, but she just shrugged and flew away.

Guess there’s no real way to find out, with Mandy out of the picture.

–Jaycee

Morgan’s Visit

I was finally able to get a hold of Morgan through emails. She wanted me to come meet her at Cherry Pick again, but I knew how that would turn out. I decided enough was enough with the games and asked her to come to my place. She asked me what had changed my mind, which I took as a hint that Blog had probably used one excuse or another to avoid that scenario. I took the offensive, saying that it was time, she’d earned it, and I was going to make sure she’d get rewarded for showing up.

So she wrote back and accepted. That was on Monday. The appointment was last night. She showed up around 8PM, wearing a raincoat and carrying an umbrella. She shivered as she came in, even though it wasn’t that cold. (It was instantaneously obvious to me how aroused she was.) Under her coat, she was wearing a silk blouse, a jacket and a skirt. The blouse did little to conceal the two mounds of flesh that struggled against their boundaries. I noticed her breasts seemed to move freely, too — she wasn’t wearing a bra. I let my eyes drop a bit further down, noticing how high her skirt rode on her thighs. I could easily imagine my fingers reaching down then sliding up her legs, touching her moist junction. She gasped, almost as if she could read my mind. She squirmed a little.

“You have to…” she started, her voice trailing off. “Have to…”

I motioned for her to sit on the couch.Instead of complying, she made a quick decision and took me by surprise. She slammed her palms against my shoulders, throwing me down on the sofa. Without hesitation, she straddled me, her skirt riding higher and revealing she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She’d come prepared. A wild woman on a mission. Within moments, she was kissing me and struggling to get out of her jacket. She ripped her blouse open, broke the kiss, and guided my head to her breasts. Thanks to my faerie sight, I’d seen my share of women getting aroused and I could tell she was ramping up WAY too fast for this to be entirely normal. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), I was getting into the heat of things myself, so one thing led to another. You know how it is. Less than a minute later, I was pumping madly inside her, my own heat fueled by her shrill cries of delight. When her orgasms came (there were many), they rocked her body so hard I thought she was being electrocuted. She didn’t need much time to recover, however, and we were back at it like wild weasels.

When we were both done and a little calmer, I cuddled with Morgan on the couch and absentmindedly played with one of her boobs.

“That was long in the coming, wasn’t it?”

She smiled. “But worth every second.”

It was time for us to have that conversation, I thought. No time like the present. Considering how difficult she was to find, who knew when we could talk about this again.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” I said, hoping to sound light and casual. “Why me?”

She seemed to stiffen just a bit in my embrace.

“You’re pretty cute,” she said, her eyes averting mine. “Do I need a better reason?”

She wasn’t being honest, I could tell. There was something she didn’t want to say.

“Come on, ‘fess up!” I reached down to caress the intersection of her thighs. “I have ways to make you talk!”

She squirmed and laughed a little.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she said.

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen crazy and you’re not it.”

Though I had to admit, she’d done some pretty crazy shit in the past. The way she’d broken Lana and me up was pretty insane. Normal people didn’t do that. But to be fair, I live with faeries, and that’s pretty crazy too. I can’t exactly pretend my life’s not crazy either.

She must have sensed I was sincere, so she continued.

“I’m not like other people, I… Promise you’re not going to make fun of me, okay?”

There was real vulnerability in the way she said it. I nodded gravely.

“I… I have a curse. Many curses, actually…”

There it was. She was a victim of magic and she knew it. I didn’t say anything, just gave her the space to tell her story, and she took it She told me it had begun before she met me, at her previous job. She’d fired this man, a copy editor in his fifties who’d sexually harassed a female colleague. He promised her she’d pay for what she did. She didn’t know how he did it, but occasionally, when working at night, she started to get these odd sexual urges. Eventually, she switched jobs (that’s when we met), but the urges continued to occur, apparently centered around me. Things really span out of control around that time. Eventually, she ran into her former colleague, the one she’d fired, and he claimed he was the one doing all this to her. She thought he was crazy, but right then and there, he turned into a hot, wet, sexy mess, and she had no choice but to believe him.

I interrupted just long enough to confirm who that man was–the Hobo I’d met before. He never said how he could do all these things to her, but he gave her a choice: she could continue living like this, never knowing when she’d turn into a sex beast, or she could live with him. He would make sure she would live well and be happy. She turned him down initially, but the feelings of depravity got so bad she eventually relented. That’s where (and with whom) she’s been all this time: my nemesis, the Hobo.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I know I should know this, but I think he’s made me forget his real name. He just goes under a nickname, now.”

“What is it?”

“Old Crow.”

–Jaycee

Brooke’s Good Attitude

For those looking for news of Morgan, I’m afraid she’s gone silent. No responses to my emails and she wasn’t there on Wednesday when I visited Cherry Pick (again!).

Thursday, Brooke dropped by. I’d warned her that Attitude was back, but the two hadn’t run into each other yet. Considering how much chaos Attitude had wrought in Brooke’s life, I was concerned it might not go all that well–and make things worse for Brooke. But Brooke, despite all her womanizing flaws, isn’t stupid, and her approach was surprising.

“You!” she exclaimed, feigning some shock at seeing Attitude.

The faerie eyed her warily. Her wings twitched a little, a sign I’d come to recognize as pre-curse hostility. Then Brooke continued.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for what you’ve done,” she said.

Attitude wasn’t impressed.

“I’m sure you did,” the faerie said, her tone dripping with acid.

“I mean it. First there was my other body, then this one–and this one is GREAT! But you know what, going through these changes has taught me a lot…”

Attitude raised an eyebrow, her posture relaxing.

“Taught you what?”

“Well, how female anatomy works… How it… y’know, *responds* to stuff. And the best part is now, I can REALLY turn a girl on, even without a dick!”

“So I’ve…” Attitude started.

“…made me a better lover, yes!” Brooke finished. “So I’m not kidding, I owe you a LOT. So thanks.”

I watched Attitude carefully, wondering if she was buying it. Brooke certainly sounded sincere, enough so that I was tempted to believe her.

That’s when Attitude shrugged, waved a hand in Brooke’s direction, and flew away. A bright glow surrounded Brooke. It faded, leaving Brooke a little dazed, rubbing his temples.

Brooke didn’t look like Mandy anymore. Brooke looked like himself. The male self, I mean. I had my bro back!

“Brooke! You’re BACK!” I said, dragging him by the shoulders in front of a mirror.

“Holy shit! I’m ME!”

Then it hit him–Meghan!

“Oh shit, I’m me!”

Yeah, I thought, that might be a problem. From his female self to Mandy’s body, then back to his male self–there was enough chaos there to turn off even Meghan.

Then Brooke got a suspicious look and reached for his crotch. His expression told me all I needed to know. The return to his male body wasn’t complete.

From the cupboard above the fridge, I could hear Attitude howling with malicious laughter.

–Jaycee

Cherry Pick’d (Take Three Aborted)

I meant to go back to the Cherry Pick on Monday, but that didn’t go according to plan. I’d worked from a nearby cafe all afternoon, and when I came back, Jennifer was sitting with her back against my door, watching the corridor. Clearly, she wanted to make sure she wouldn’t miss me.

I suspected we were going to have some kind of talk about what happened last time. I didn’t need to be a genius (or to have faerie sight) to tell she got instantly excited as I came up to my floor from the staircase.

“Hey,” I said. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Couple of minutes,” she said, getting up. She held up a small backpack. “I got brewskis. Thought we could watch season 2 of Homeland together. Or something.”

“Sure,” I said, unlocking the door.

I let her in. We moved to the kitchen. I put a frozen pizza in the oven while she opened up some beers. She handed me one.

“Urk,” I said. “They’re pretty warm.”

“They were cold when I bought them,” she said.

“Uh huh,” I said, skeptical. “You sure you’ve been here for just a few minutes.”

She shrugged. “We should talk.”

“Yeah, I guess we do. But look, I don’t want it to be weird between us…”

“Me too,” she said. “The other night… I got a little crazy, y’know?”

“That’s… an understatement,” I said, noticing her arousal rising a little as she probably remembered what had happened.

“But we’re buds, right? That comes first, not… you know… sex.”

“Hey,” I said, “I get it.”

But the truth was, I didn’t really get it. She was hot for me, but she was sending signals that she just wanted to be friends.

“Okay, I’m glad we talked about it.”

Huh? As conversations went, that was pretty short. And deceptively painless. For a moment, the coward in me thought it was over and almost let it slide. But then, I noticed Attitude sitting on the fridge, glaring in my direction. I had a hunch there would be trouble if I tried to duck out of the REAL conversation we should be having, so I shook my head.

“No, we’re not done, Jen,” I said. “What happened… it wasn’t right.”

“What do you mean?” She looked at her beer, which she absentmindedly held in front of her impressive chest. I couldn’t help notice her nipples were very hard.

“You… want us to be more than just friends, don’t you?”

“Um… I don’t think I’d put it like that.” She put her beer on the counter and got closer to me. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, lately. At night, I mean. I mean, during my sleep…”

Uh oh. Erotic dreams. I was willing to bet my left nut this was some kind of faerie trickery. She wrapped her arms around my neck and drew me closer. She looked up into my eyes and gave me a shy smile.

“Jen, we’re buds…”

She was pushing her breasts against my chest. Then she pulled my head in and her lips met mine in a soft kiss. She held me there for a few moments, then broke the kiss.

“We’re buds, and that comes first. But I’ve had the hots for you for YEARS, y’know? And you’ve never really seen me. Even after I got these.” She pointed at her boobs, still squashed against my chest. “But now, I know what I want. Heck, I got what I want, and I liked it.”

“Um… so what does this mean?”

“I liked it, like I said. And I want it again. I don’t want you to be my boyfriend, I just want… y’know, YOU.” She slid a hand into my pants. “And I’m pretty sure you want ME, too.”

I put my beer down on the counter and kissed her. So, friends-with-benefits it would be, I guessed. We’d probably need to define some guidelines later, but at that moment, I just decided to go with it. We started peeling off each other’s clothes, then one thing led to another. We lost track of time.

Oh, and we never got to eat that pizza. We got interrupted during our busy work when the apartment fire alarm blared, signaling our forgotten dinner had burned to a crisp in the oven.

It was worth it, I say.

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