Chapter 32 Monster.

Chapter 32: 32 Monster.

"Just give her what she wants," she suggested tiredly. "She won’t cease until you do."

I looked between Elsa’s "get on with it" expression and Ayra’s expectantly raised posterior. Against every instinct screaming "bad idea," I gave her bottom a middling tap.

Ayra made a sound between a yelp and a moan. Her whole body shuddered. When she turned to look at me, her eyes had a dazed, unfocused quality.

"Finally!" she breathed, tail wagging furiously. "Master has established dominance! My devotion shall know no bounds!"

I caught Elsa’s eye over Ayra’s head. Her raised eyebrow clearly said, "You’ve created a monster." Like this was my idea.

"Okay, got the last number," I said weakly, finishing the measurement and helping her up. "Let’s go order clothes before this gets weirder."

Half an hour later, I was at my laptop with Ayra hovering at my shoulder.

Her tail hadn’t stopped wagging since The Incident, and she kept finding excuses to stand close. I could feel her warm breath on my neck each time she leaned in.

"This dress speaks to me, Master," she said, pointing at a black number on screen.

"Looks good," I agreed, adding it to the cart. "Nice to have formal options."

"Grey!" Elsa’s voice rang from the kitchen. "I require immediate assistance!"

I sighed. "Be right there."

In the kitchen, I found Elsa on tiptoes, reaching for a mug on a shelf she could easily access if she jumped half an inch.

Her golden hair cascaded down her back as she stretched. The borrowed shirt rode up her thighs.

"Could you help?" she asked sweetly. "It’s so dreadfully high."

I grabbed the mug. "Here you go."

"You’re so strong and capable," she purred, letting her fingers linger on mine.

"Uh-huh." I wasn’t born yesterday. "I need to finish Ayra’s order."

Her smile flickered. "Of course. Carry on. For now."

Back at the laptop, Ayra was browsing combat boots.

"These would withstand battle," she mused. "And these sandals for domestic comfort."

"Good thinking," I agreed, adding both. "Let’s grab some basics and—"

"Grey!" Elsa again. "Catastrophe has struck!"

I rushed back to find her standing in a puddle, her shirt soaked and clinging to her body.

"The water glass betrayed me," she explained tragically. "Now I’m drenched and require immediate wardrobe assistance."

I knew exactly what game she was playing. "Fine. Let’s get you changed."

Upstairs, she immediately peeled off the wet shirt and stood there naked.

Her pale skin was an absolute treat for the eyes, complemented by the beauty of her lustrous golden hair. Her pointed ears peeked through the strands.

"Which garments would please you most?" she asked innocently.

I grabbed the first things I saw. "These work. Listen—I really need to finish Ayra’s order."

She took the clothes but didn’t put them on. Her frown was apocalyptic, but her voice came out softer than expected. "Are you so eager to return to her?"

The vulnerability in her words made me soften and realize how impatient I was being.

Elsa was still the same spoiled, bratty Princess from the moment I met her just a few days ago—that just was who she was, and I was bound to her in some weird way, for better or worse.

She might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she was my pain in the ass—with benefits. And I did find her odd ways charming, if I was honest with myself.

I thought hard about how to respond, and I decided to just be frank. I put my hands on her shoulders and smiled. "I just want to get this done. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can focus on other things. Got it?"

"Logical," she conceded, finally dressing. "You may return. Temporarily."

I thought I reached her, but I’d barely sat down again when her voice echoed through the house.

"Grey! Mysterious pains require immediate massage therapy!"

I counted to ten under my breath. "In a minute, Elsa!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Then the pitter-patter of bare feet came next. She appeared in the doorway, marched over, and slammed my laptop shut.

"I require pampering," she declared, climbing into my lap. "Immediately."

Ayra backed away, flattening her ears against her golden-brown hair. The big red bow atop her head twitched with the wary waggles of her ears. "I should give you two privacy..."

"No," I said firmly, hands on Elsa’s waist but not removing her. "Elsa, I get that you’re feeling neglected, but this is absolutely unreasonable and bratty of you. Give me a fucking break. I’m trying to help Ayra, our fellow party member—your friend. All I need is ten minutes, tops."

Elsa looked guilty. "But—"

"How about this," Ayra offered meekly, folding her hands under her chin.

She was wincing as she spoke, like she expected the Princess to launch herself at her. "Perhaps let our champion finish my order—as he said, ten minutes at most. Then the rest of the day shall be all yours. Is that fair, Your Highness?"

She considered it, her pout intensifying. "Very well. But I remain here while you work." She adjusted in my lap but didn’t move.

I internally groaned. "Alright, then."

For almost exactly ten minutes, I finished Ayra’s order with Elsa perched possessively on my lap.

She played with my hair and occasionally kissed my cheek, clearly marking her territory, and I could tell from Ayra’s wide eyes that the display wasn’t lost on her either. The dog-girl watched with obvious fascination.

I didn’t think that Elsa’s show was having the desired effect on her.

It was like Ayra was getting hungrier and more fascinated by me the more she realized her friend wanted me to herself.

Not the most healthy dynamic, maybe. As it turned out, Elsa wasn’t the only brat I was stuck with, whether I liked it or not.

To be fucking clear, I liked it, red flags be damned.

With the order submitted including overnight shipping, I closed the laptop. "Done. As promised, the afternoon is yours."

Elsa brightened immediately. She hopped off and dragged me to the couch. "Foot massage first. Then thirty minutes minimum of hair brushing. Then we shall see."

I spent hours pampering her exactly as promised—foot rubs, hair brushing, feeding her grapes while we watched TV—and letting her feed me until I was so tired of grapes I almost threw up.

Ayra watched from nearby, her tail occasionally wagging so hard for hours on end that I had to wonder how many calories that burned.

After a while, Elsa dozed off, so I had my opening to get some water.

When I got up and headed for the kitchen, I caught Ayra looking at her reflection in the silver fridge door, practicing Elsa’s imperious pose, nose high, finger pointing at invisible servants.

"...What are you doing?" I asked.

She yelped and hit the floor. "You caught me copying the Princess! Oh, woe is me! I suppose my heartless Master will want to punish me. Very well—I am brave in the face of cruelty."

"Nope," I cut her off, stepping around her. "Punishment quota’s full for today." She made doggy whimpers as I left her there.

I couldn’t help but wonder just why she was mimicking the princess, though.

As I was walking back to Elsa’s sleeping form, I realized that my single swat on Ayra’s butt had opened Pandora’s box.

I really would have to keep spanking her every now and then, and she probably hoped I’d escalate things too.

I wasn’t sure I had the heart for that, no matter how into it she was.

As dusk approached, we suited up for the nightly monster patrol. Armor on, sword ready.

"Another monster tonight?" Ayra asked, watching me gear up. Her crimson bow sat slightly askew atop her head.

We had explained to her by this point just what the routine was out here, and it didn’t seem to surprise her in the same way Elsa seemed to be expecting monsters when she first arrived.

"Like clockwork lately," I confirmed.