Page 77 of Wicked

As she licks them, I slowly finger fuck her mouth. Finally, she pulls back, and I kiss her, probing her mouth with my tongue.

As I lift her up and we stand, I look towards Tito in the corner. “Stay.”

I walk my wet, naked student downstairs, and she holds my hand tight. “Am I going to be alright?”

I take my time in answering, then I decide to say this:

Nothing.

I lightthe medieval torch with the old matches, and I walk ahead of Raven. She appears nervous as we enter the dungeon, but it’s important to find out now if she is worth keeping around, or she is a girl messing about, a lightweight.

Inside, the things I prepared before dinner are ready for use. The fire ready to be lit. The bucket of hot water and soap.

And the huge container of virgin olive oil.

I light the fire with the torch, and nervous, naked Raven does a three-sixty. As the fire starts to crackle, I slowly remove my clothes. I hang them near the leather whips and horse-riding saddles, and I crack my neck.

As Raven finishes her three-sixty, she finds me naked, the firelight playing on my torso.

“You can stay, or you can go,” I say coldly. I try to act detached, but as I harden, she looks deflated. Deep down, I want her to stay. I also want to be inside her.

As Raven decides, I feel my old ways seeping through my veins. It’s alarming, disturbing, and hot. I have not done anything wild for years, but in the day…

“You will first scrub the plinth,” I say, walking slowly around the waist-high marble platform.

Raven’s eyes sweep the area, and I can see she is on edge. “And then?” she asks anxiously.

“Then we will see how much you are willing to…”

“Take?”

“Learn,” I say. “Learn.”

Raven lifts her chin defiantly, and she looks deep in thought.

“I… I will do what you ask of me,” she finally says.

It’s good because my hard cock gives away my wicked thoughts. I watch firelight flicker on her body, and her slick pussy glints. I see moisture run down her legs as I lick my lips.

I cross my arms as Raven bites her lower lip. Her fists are balled, and I walk around her, inches away. “What must I do?”

“Clean the platform,” I say, “and clean it well.”

Raven,naked, waxed, and wet, uses the bucket of hot water and soap. She scrubs away, and she uses the new brooms and brushes. As the firelight flickers around the room, I get another soap and water bucket ready. On the fire, I warm the fine olive oil.

The best olive oil known to man is pure, and it becomes ultra fluid.

It moves like liquid gold, and as I pour it into the large dragon-shaped vessel, I get as hard as steel. My crown is huge, and it hungers for her tight wet opening.

As my student finishes her cleaning duties, she eyes me nervously. I place the golden dragon down and I check on her work. The white marble plinth is now spotless, but it already was.

That’s because before dinner, I washed it while Tito and her played.

I climb onto the marble platform, and I hold the heavy vessel in my hands. It is warm, it is full, and there are ten pints of virgin olive oil in it.

The liquid is good for the skin, and it has been used for centuries to soften, hydrate, and used to lubricate…

Everywhere.

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