19. Allan

Chapter nineteen

Allan

I t's funny how quickly we change around someone else, especially after being intimate with them. The hour had arrived for my cleansing bath and while Daddy Patrick ran the water and helped set up the spa-like bathroom into a soul-cleansing space, I stripped.

Had I been asked to do this with anyone else a few short weeks ago, I'd have said, "Absolutely not."

Instead, I stood behind Patrick as he knelt beside the tub, swishing the dried loose buffalo berry leaves into the water. My cock brushed up against his shoulder, and thickened. The enticing warm bath, and the presence of my magic teacher added to my level of excitement. Arousal didn't seem to be enough of a word that encompassed everything I felt at the moment.

I pinned my hopes on this experiment to finally grant me access to that annoying sphere in the center of my chest that did its best to keep me out.

"We'll wait until you're submerged before dropping the bath bombs," he said as he reached over his shoulder, grabbed my dick, and gave it a couple of tugs.

"Incense stick is ready to go?"

"Yup. In the holder and over on the counter."

"I'll light it!" I offered and made my way over there, but before I did, a hand gripped my wrist, stopping me, then spun me around to face him.

"I will do it all. I want you to concentrate on the task at hand. Climb into the tub, relax, focus on opening yourself up. I got the rest of the tasks. It's the least I can do for you. Your only job is to get witchy with your soul cleansing." He smiled, then glanced down at my fully hard erection. "If you're a good boy, I promise to make you squeal in delight later."

Cupping my balls, at first, then giving them a gentle squeeze, he moved his hand up to my shaft and stroked me a few times.

"That is not going to make me relaxed."

He chuckled.

Patrick's beard nuzzled my neck as he wrapped his arms around me and held me. "You got this. You can do this."

He released me, then checked the tub. The water was sufficiently deep, and steam rose from the surface. An acrid, stinky, vegetative aroma filled the room. Turns out, buffalo berry wasn't a great smelling bathtime addition.

"Looks ready," I said.

"Climb in, but carefully. It's hot. Needs to be to activate the properties in the leaves."

"I know!" I smirked but knew he only rehashed the information for my benefit.

Dipping a foot into the water, I realized Patrick hadn't lied. The scalding temperatures made my flesh scream. But by easing in slowly, I was able to seat myself in the tub.

My normally pinkish flesh turned red.

"You look delicious." Patrick said as his gaze travelled the length of my body.

"I feel like the leftover Thanksgiving carcass set on the stove to make stock. You're making soup outta me, aren't you?" I smiled.

"Best damn soup there is!" he chided back. "Okay, bath bombs away."

As he dropped the first sphere, the citric acid and sodium bicarbonate hit the water and immediately began reacting, creating carbon dioxide and sodium citrate salt, changing the fluidity of the water to a salty, yet silky smooth feel.

The ingredients stuffed into the bomb released, and the air filled with sweet aromas of lavender and jasmine. While the buffalo berry undertones were not as pleasant, the floral and herb scents overpowered any stench the local bush produced.

Patrick walked over to the incense stick, lit it, then blew it out.

Dark grey curlicues snaked their way toward the ceiling.

A hundred little tea lights, already lit, flickered in unison. A distinct telltale sign that magic was afoot.

"All right, I'm going to leave you. You know what to do." Patrick smiled. Then, as he left, he flipped the light switch, pulling a blanket of darkness over the room. He shut the door, and I was left to myself.

Shadows danced across the wall.

Jasmine and lavender tickled my nose.

The heat from the water made me lightheaded.

I sank into myself, relaxing, focusing on the sensations around me, floating off into the nothingness of a meditative mind.

The fizz from the bath bombs created the perfect white noise as I drifted. The darkness behind my closed eyes lulled me into a soothing calm…

Bright neon blue lights flickered in my peripheral vision.

The scent of lavender overcame all other aromas and filled the space.

As I concentrated on finding the source of my magic within my chest, the sparks of azure neon morphed from dancing fireflies to electrical arcs, sending random bolts across my vision.

Then that eased, and the ferocity of the spiking electrical current melted into a gentle caress of blue smoke. The vapor surrounded me, cocooned me, lifting me up and out of the water as the cleansing of my soul began.

I let my head loll back and gave myself over.

Waking up in ice cold bath water is not recommended. But that's exactly what happened. The tea lights had extinguished, leaving me in complete darkness.

Shivering, I pulled out of the tub, grabbed the fluffy towel Patrick had left to the side, wrapped myself up and dried off.

Reaching for the light switch, I was shocked to see an incandescent neon blue glimmer shining like little stars embedded within my skin.

"Well, shit! Maybe this worked." Hope bloomed in my heart.

Please, please, please.

Wrapping the towel around my waist, I yarded the bathroom door open and nearly ran out into the living room, startling Argus and the damn bird.

Patrick sat in his recliner, the book he had been reading laying open and splayed across his chest as his head lolled to one side. He had fallen fast asleep.

I placed a hand on his thick furry forearm and shook him awake.

"What? What happened?" Patrick mumbled as he awoke.

Beaming with pride, I answered, "I'm done. And I believe the results are good!"

Daddy Patrick regarded me with a look I have never seen on anyone else in my life. Pride.

That smile, the look deep in his eyes that said I knew you could do it , was the best thing I'd ever seen. In that very moment, I knew how Patrick felt about me.

And I wanted more. I wanted all of it.

"Have you tried?" he asked, looking almost terrified to be doing so.

"No, not yet."

"Do you want to?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to show you something first. Come with me."

I led him back down the hall to the bathroom, where I could close the door and envelop both of us in darkness.

As I did, I lifted up an arm. "Look."

The sparkling twinkle of the blue light from within my skin sent a shiver over the surface, making the flesh pebble.

"That's incredible!" Patrick exclaimed.

"I think it worked."

"Well, that's definitely a good sign. Let's try."

Patrick stood close as I repeated the process he had taught me for centering myself and guiding my magical senses to the spot where the source lay.

In my mind's eye I could see the sphere, its surface a shiny black mirror, rolling, turning, and tossing. As I approached it, I could sense its warning.

Stay away.

Ignoring it, I sent tendrils of magic toward it, the little fingerlings of energy that coursed through my bloodstream. It was easy enough to do, the magic within my blood recognized itself, its concentrated source.

As I pushed up against the hard surface, asking to penetrate it, to dive deep into its center, I met resistance.

But it was not the hard metal that it had once been. The sphere didn't push back and deny me with force.

This time the exterior felt more like pliable rubber, bending to my will, denting the perfect circle.

But like rubber, it bounced back, pushing me away.

I exhaled.

Depressed.

Disappointed.

I opened my eyes, "Turn the light on." My voice dripped with sadness.

"No-go, huh?" Patrick flicked the light on. The pain in his face reflected my mood.

"No."

"What happened? Tell me."

I sighed as my shoulders slumped forward.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, just tell me." Patrick grabbed my upper arms and rubbed the flesh, then brought me closer and held me against his chest.

"It didn't work." A knot formed in my throat.

"For the last time, just tell me."

"Ugh. I found the sphere and tried to penetrate it. The surface was rubbery and pushed me back."

"Okay, but I thought you said the last time the surface was hard, shiny, like steel."

"Yeah. So? It still didn't let me in."

"But don't you see? That's progress! Instead of a hard impenetrable fortress, the outside was more malleable. Right?"

"I don't get it."

"You had one cleansing bath. I think it did a world of good." Patrick ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp.

It felt nice. Comforting.

"We'll do this again tomorrow night, and the night after, and the night after that if we have to, but we'll get there. I think we're on the right path."

"I hope you're right."

Over the course of the next week, I ended up having several baths. We spent the days harvesting buffalo berry leaves, and the nights drying them, making bath bombs and incense sticks.

The southwest shoreline of Sylvan Lake became depleted of buffalo berries.

And after each soak, the ball inside my chest became more pliable, more stretchy, more accepting of my presence, but I still couldn't pierce through its surface.

At every attempt, the source denied me access.

Patrick became frantic over the remaining days, pulling out every trick he could think of to push me over the edge. To get me to pierce that veil.

Nothing.

It resisted.

And in the end, it won.

We had a single day left before I had to present myself to the Fae.

Terrified didn't even begin to capture the emotional firestorm swirling in my gut.

The next twenty-four hours would be an excruciating, panic-filled nightmare.