Alarm Clock
"Do you hear that?"
I covered my eyes from the early sun. I rubbed them gently and doing so felt better than any massage I could get.
"ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟʟs?" Agnes asked, "ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀʟʏ."
My mind would always be so fuzzy in the morning, especially when I woke up through my alarm clock. The church bell really was no different in that regard. It was only a bit louder and I couldn't stop it from chiming even though I was already awake, the only solace I found was that it wasn't as shrill as its modern counterpart.
Agnes also was not a morning person. I could tell from her messy bed hair and the dark circles every time she woke up. I had learned through experience that the morning was her most sensitive time, and the time her hatred was brooding the most. Like a bubbling kettle ready to explode.
Coincidentally, it was also the time I wanted to annoy her the most.
"ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴀʀᴇ, ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙɪᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴏғғ," she told me with a cracking voice.
See? Always such fun with her.
"Drink some water. I got it from yesterday's meal," I said and reached for the desk.
Her eyebrows were furrowed, not because she was mad, but simply because she woke up like that. It scared me as she may be prone to wrinkles on her forehead if she kept it that way—it would ruin her immaculate face, even if she didn't find herself beautiful.
She took the glass off my hand and swiftly chugged it down. A small quantity of water sprung out of control, leaving in the form of a single tear, running down from her chin, her neck, and her bare breasts, until it ultimately dropped on the sheets.
I, meanwhile, left the bed and began my morning stretches. I was a firm believer of completing one's business early to leave the pleasure for later, after all. Well, sometimes. Only when I felt like believing it.
Agnes looked at me and complained, "ᴘᴜᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ."
She placed the glass on the ground and at the same time conjured a set of clothes. Her body glowed like heated iron, blinding me, and when the light subsided she was already wearing her fluttery black dress.
"Only if you will be naked. I personally would like that a lot more, because it would be such a shame to not show off such beauty." I stretched my legs first by placing them on the desk and trying to touch my feet. I felt like I had turned more flexible already, but it might have just been my hopeful imagination.
"I sometimes can't tell if you are joking or not," she lazily turned around in bed as she said so.
"No worries, me neither," I answered her.
After I was done with my stretching routine, I picked Agnes off the bed by grabbing her armpits and lifting her up. The blankets fell from her body while her black hair rained down her face, covering anything but her irritation and her big, blue eyes and eyelashes long and flapping like the wings of a cicada.
There was a knock on the door, signaling Raya most likely, so we could go down to eat. Of course, it would be the same food as always. It would be, until I was tired of it, which didn't seem to be anytime soon.
Raya, when I opened the door and saw her, looked even more miserable than before. Her skin was pale and the circles around her eyes were darker than even Agnes's. She stood there, resting her weight on one leg while crossing her arms. Her irritated face was very similar to Agnes's face, proving to me that they were indeed cousins.
"Took you long enough," she grumbled.
"I literally came when you knocked," I said.
She turned around and went down the hall; I remember clearly how enchantingly she walked: her slender waist, emphasized by her thin long dress, turned every time she took a step with her long legs peeking out. She touched the wooden wall and slowly went down the stairs; her back
unprotected and undisturbed in front of me.
"sʟᴜᴛ," Agnes called me from the side.
"Would you like some soup," the waitress said to us the moment we arrived.
Once again, in the corner of the inn, there was a crowd patiently leaning towards where the church bell was. They cupped their ears in anticipation while holding a cup of ale in their hands and occasionally taking a sip.
"Yes, of course," I answered the waitress and then pointed at the line of people, "are they waiting for the results of the Jugdement Table again?"
"Indeed," she told me and nodded. "it is him again, that Chase," she gritted her teeth and stopped talking.
"Say, is it perhaps that man named Albert who had challenged him?"
Her eyes widened. "Oh, how did you know?"
"well, call it an educated guess."
"It indeed is the case," the woman sighed. "I do wish, however slim it is, for him to win the trial, just so we can have an end to this unpalatable nonsense. All the needless bloodshed makes the food taste sour."
Then, as she just finished her sentence, the bells rang, catching everyone's attention immediately. Once, as an indicator that it existed, twice, and thrice, very quickly, like it was eager to announce the results, and finally, after a long pause—almost too long—it rang a fourth and final time.
The waitress exhaled audibly. Her face was filled with indignation, but also a small sense of relief and foreboding when she said, "I guess it was too much to ask." She then silently went away, her gait was heavy and lonely.
"Too bad," Raya said, "it would have been good riddance." She threw her hands in the air.
"Who cares, it's not our problem," I told her.
She rested her arms on the table. "What about it? Really, you are useless," she scoffed, "you feel no responsibility leaving these thugs alone, do you?"
"Quite honestly, I don't. And I am more surprised that you do. Is this not against your philosophy of those weaker being subject to those stronger? Will your magic be alright," I asked her.
"First of all, I simply find them to be an eyesore, especially as they ruin the virtue of us aristocrats. Secondly, my magic is not based on survival of the fittest," her face darkened, "it is based on promises.
"Ladies," the waitress called from afar, "the soup is ready, I hope you two will like it!" As she arrived, she placed the two dishes down.
"Really, is this stew all you have," Raya complained and grew louder, "anyways, I hope you did not forget, I only want two-thirds of a serving, that is the most important thing. You know how to count right? If not, Lord help me-"
"Raya, calm down," I interjected.
"I remembered," the waitress answered with a professional smile, but there was a slight twitch.
We both ate the soup. There were no complaints while doing so.
Afterward, the waitress returned to confirm the taste, to which I replied that it was great.
She then looked at Raya and asked her, "by the way, did you find what you were looking for?"
Raya, who had been so lively before, froze in action. She then glanced at me, guilt in her eyes.
"Oh?" I said and I stared at Raya, "my dear darling has been looking for something?"
The waitress replied, "yes, she asked me yesterday where she could find that Chase to teach him a lesson. I didn't know though, so I couldn't answer." The woman then abruptly covered her mouth, "wait, was I not supposed to say that?" She asked innocently.
"No, not at all." I laughed. "You did great, in fact, you should do so more often," I stood up and told her, "will you excuse us, Raya and I, we have some business to attend to in my room."
Raya swiftly rose from her seat and turned towards the exit, but I grabbed her head from behind and dragged her all the way into my room until I closed the door.
"So." I sat on the bed, arms crossed, while Raya was standing before me staring at the ground.
"Somebody has been playing hero, lately, no? What about 'do not engage' was not clear enough for you?"
The girl rebutted, "what? Just because you weren't going to do anything, doesn't mean I will stay silent. I am not your pet dog."
"Now, lady," I pulled her face towards mine, "first of all, you are. Secondly, do you wish to kill every ant that crawls the wrong way? If you need to take notice of every single problem, it only showcases your weakness."
"You preach, but never do as you say, you are just a coward," she shouted. "You are a hypocrite!" Her eyes seethed with anger.
"Alright, I get it," I said quietly. "Lift your clothes up."
Of course, she had no place to refuse, once more embedding the relationship between the two of us. Her face scrunched up in surprise, and she stared at me in hatred.
She dutifully, (although tremblingly) lifted her raven-black dress, revealing her equally black shoes, her contrasting slender legs and her pink panties with little flowers—in that order. The whole time, she did not break eye contact.
"Now then, you don't need these," I got rid of the only layer hiding her most secret part from the world—her panties, and ripped them in two. She wanted to desperately stop me, but I stopped her from stopping me."Do you know what we did in my age with disobedient children," I asked, but she was too focused on the cold winds washing over her lower nudity to care, "well, why don't you lay on my lap, first," I said to her, with the broken fabric in my hand.
She came (once again trembling), and unwillingly rested atop of me, her firm belly pressing against my thighs, her breast acting as a cozy cushion between her and the bed, and her bare butt, up, high in the air, facing the holy sun. "We spank them," I told my dear and she shuddered appropriately.
"Wait, you wouldn't-," she shouted enraged, but I shoved my fingers in her mouth, and her lips wrapped around them, squeezing as if she drank an acrid poison.
I placed my hand on her unveiled butt; my hand which seemed small in comparison. She instantly shuddered, wriggling around, her rump turning, and I had to grab tight, my fingers sinking deep and creating waves. A wonderful feeling, like gently bobbing in an ocean current. She groaned; the only sound she could make out of her stuffed mouth.
"I won't," I whispered into her ear, "I am not your father, I won't hit you." My nose ran through the back of her nape, and I inhaled, a lavender smell it was. Her legs would bent and droop and her toes clenched and unclenched.
Again, she groaned, almost purring.
I left my fingers to wander around, like it was a small child in a fairy tale, tickling her unsullied butt—a perfect roundness—elevated and emphasized by her back curved as a hillslope.
"But I want you to know, I can," I told her, "I can hurt you so bad-, so good," I pinched her, "leave a scar, not on your body, but deep in your mind," I grabbed her once more, my palm slipping down her crease, "and there would be nothing you could do against it."
She glared at me, our feelings reaching a zenith—but it went right over as we were interrupted by a knock.
"Come in," I said.
It was the waitress cum owner who entered, she opened her mouth, but her words slipped as she looked at me and Raya. "Excuse me." She quickly covered her eyes in embarrassment and prepared to leave.
"No need, I am about to finish," I told her, "in fact, would you like to help?" I pointed towards where my hand had rested.
"Help?" She peeked through her hand and came closer. She looked uncertain, once at me, then at Raya, who was struggling but still adhered to my lap, with her lower part exposed, only my hand substituting as her makeshift panties. "Help?" She looked at Raya again.
There was, I admit, although unwillingly, something very, very bewitching about Rayas figure. As if perfectly shaped over many arduous years, out of cold marble, but once touched, there was only timeless maternal warmth.
More than anything else, like a nymph, her rosy-velutinous-bubbly bottom shook in anticipation.
The waitress undid her veiled eyes, and with the same hand, she reached for Raya, as if hypnotized. Like she had found Midas touch in herself, her hand reached the smooth skin and she exclaimed in wonder at the unrealistic softness. She kneaded with her hand, slowly at first, very slowly, but then quickened her pace and turned bolder. While her eyes were dazed, Raya strongly shut her own, escaping with her mind, as certainly, her voice could not help do so.
In the end, the waitress broke free from her trance as her hand collided with my own, the one that hid what I deemed was most important to hide. "Sorry," I told the waitress, "that part is private property."
She retracted her everything and her face turned decidedly red. Abashed, she told me, "there's someone who's been looking for you."