Pale Painter Ch. 06

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One needs comfort.
5.9k words
4.84
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5

Part 7 of the 10 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 07/25/2017
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Author's Note: I've never been majorly burned before. I don't know what it's like. I tried to do some research, but I could have always made a mistake. So ... if something isn't right about good old Duke Adurant's physical state, then ... sorry about that. Also, I don't know much about crime scene investigations, especially in universes where nobody knows what DNA is, and I don't know the finer details about when a body rots. I'd like to apologize again in case I screwed up. Sorry!

******

To Erdgar's complete consternation, the guest went into hysterics. Miss Lunai sought him out specifically, her feet pounding against the hard floor. Her meager fists tried to pummel into him, although the results weren't very effective. She probably wouldn't leave any bruises.

Assuming she had gone mad, Erdgar demanded that the locksmith assist him, and they were able to restrain the albino woman, one man at her arms and the other at her legs. Danetta took their lamps for them, guiding them. Even as Miss Lunai thrashed and verbally abused the men, they carried her out of the dungeon, up the spiral staircase, and into the hallway, all while poor Danetta followed with weak questions. Miss Lunai's glasses slipped from her head and fell to one of the first steps of the staircase. They had to ignore it at first.

The handmaidens noted the trouble, and they retreated a few feet away as they saw the men emerging with a screaming Miss Lunai. Patiently, they waited for any instructions, their hands layered against their abdomens.

"Please explain the source of your fury!" That was Danetta, her mouth quivering. The poor, adorable woman might have been heartbroken. She had treated Miss Lunai as a friend, and here the albino was, pitching and cursing the Adurant name.

The men set the woman into a chair in the hallway that was mostly there for decoration. Nobody was actually meant to sit on the thing. It was strong enough, though, and Erdgar used his palms to pin her wrists to the wooden armrests. He felt something tangled in her fingers, and he heard something knock against the chair.

The mad artist had the audacity to spit in his face. The thick, unpleasant thing landed right under his eye.

Danetta was the one to come to his defense, pressing a handkerchief to his face, asking the painter, "What in the world could my husband have possibly done to you?" Her mild perfume went into his lungs, and he was comforted for a few seconds.

"He's a murderer! A filthy child murderer!"

Erdgar had no idea what she was going on about, but if he was to be accused of something, she had better have some evidence. If she couldn't back her statement up, he might just have her imprisoned, or at least scared into thinking she would be imprisoned. "What do you have to support this claim?" he asked with a low voice, knowing that his eyes were hot with defensive instinct.

Miss Lunai's weak, pale eyes pointed up at him. He wondered if she could see him clearly. "My brother's pomander! You had it all this time! You had my brother all this time!"

"Pomander?" Danetta pulled her handkerchief away and said, "Erdgar, she has a pomander in her fingers."

The locksmith was nearby, mumbling something about madwomen and dark places. Erdgar ignored him and looked down at the silver pomander that was dangling from the painter's grip. "Where did you find that thing?"

"It was on display, with other objects, as trophies!"

His face cooled. His fingers almost loosened. His brow tangled upwards in surprise. "Danetta," Erdgar said, not enjoying the way his thoughts were weaving together, "would you be so kind as to locate this woman's spectacles?"

For some reason, that got Miss Lunai to quiet down.

"Yes, of course." Danetta left him for a moment, taking her delicious scent with her, her expensive shoes rapping against the floor in such a way that almost had him thinking of more pleasurable moments. She returned quickly, holding the glasses and wiping the lenses against her cloak. She gently pushed the glasses onto Miss Lunai and said with a motherly tone, "There. That's better now; isn't it? Now, let's see about this pomander."

Erdgar watched his wife's soft fingers lift up the beautiful, silver creation. She turned it this way and that, until she noticed an inscription on a hinge.

"This says, Toby Lunai," Danetta said with narrowing eyes. "Why, I didn't even know you had a brother, but why would your brother's pomander be in our dungeon?"

Miss Lunai chose that moment to whine out, "There are bones in there too, in one of the cells! Children have been kept in there, and recently!"

No.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No!!

That wasn't possible.

Erdgar's senses were flaring. His hands pressed harder into the woman's wrists, which caused her to miserably pule. "That door has been locked for as long as I can remember!"

But, Danetta said, a chill in her tone, "At least, it has been locked for as long as I've been married to you, hasn't it?"

Was she ... was she actually putting an allegation onto him? The betrayal burned through his chest and shriveled up his heart. He bore his teeth as he yelled at her, even though she was close by and didn't need the higher volume.

"I've never opened that door, woman!! I've never even seen the key!! What's stumbling through that cotton head of yours?!"

Straightaway, Erdgar regretted his loss of control.

Tears blurred those prepossessing, cyan irises. Then they dribbled down the full cheeks. A small, sparkling set of fingers flew up to that delicious little mouth that had always been so eager to please him.

A thick, vile feeling bounced in Erdgar's stomach, painting stains of disgust within himself.

"Don't cry, Darling." Without considering his temporary prisoner, he released Miss Lunai and went to his wife. He put both her hands in his and squeezed them, feeling the hardness of her jewelry. "Take your handmaidens to your bedchamber and wait for me there. I'm going to write a letter to the king himself. Some of his men should be here soon to investigate."

Normally, Erdgar would have his own men investigate, but considering that he was the one who paid their wages, it would be understood that such an inquiry would be unfairly biased. It was best to call for enforcement officials that hat power over him.

He noticed that Miss Lunai was rising from her seat, but she seemed much calmer, possibly because she knew he was going to call for a legitimate investigation. He chose to speak to the locksmith. "I must beg you to remain here so that officials can interview you. We have a crime scene on our hands."

The locksmith nodded. "I'd hate for anyone to assume something nasty about me. It's best if I stay here instead of fleeing."

***

When everyone was settled, when Erdgar's letter was secure in the hands of a messenger, Erdgar stole a private moment to smoke a little, not enough to alter his mood completely, but enough to put a sense of calm into his brain. And when he was finished, he realized with horror that he had taken the drug despite not having any sort of headache.

He threw his lavish ashtray against the wall, where it crashed with a heavy clunk. Dark, powdery ash swirled and clouded onto the floor. Then he put his pipe on a food tray, swiped his eyelids with his fingertips, and waited for the relaxation ...

But ... after a while ... it didn't come. After fifteen minutes, there was nothing but a bubbling rage. He must not have smoked enough. Or maybe, it was this particular strand that he was having difficulty with. He had been experimenting with different types of the drug lately.

He couldn't keep Danetta waiting any longer. It wasn't fair to her.

Erdgar rinsed his mouth out, first with wine and then with water. Then, as he chewed on some previously stored mint leaves, he changed into something that didn't reek of smoke. He rinsed his mouth out one last time and quit his room, mentally preparing himself for his wife.

When he knocked on her door, he heard the rustling voices of concerned women. His eyes idly traced the lines of the carved butterflies as the door opened slowly. He saw the two handmaidens scurry out of the room, their eyes downcast and their faces paler than normal.

Did those women distrust him?

Did his wife still distrust him?

He pressed his teeth together so hard that it hurt a little.

Then Erdgar stepped inside and closed the door behind him, locking it without looking at his fingers. Danetta ... his lovely Danetta ... she was kneeling before the fireplace on a large rug of white fur. The rug had been a recent present. She had said that she loved the texture against her flesh.

The morning still held onto its gray flavor, but the fire put a nearly heavenly glow on Danetta's form. Her cloak was draped around her shoulders. Her curly hair was loose; the spiral locks were jumbling with gravity as she moved her head about, as if she were listening to music.

"Dear Madam?"

Danetta's head paused, but didn't turn.

Erdgar didn't want to damage the fur rug with his shoes. He kicked them away and padded over to his wife quietly. His fabric covered toes were close to her when he decided he should sit down. He admired the way her silver brooches glistened under the firelight.

Danetta's nose seemed more charming from the side. It pointed up a bit, and it almost seemed child-like. Erdgar wasn't sure why he mentally added the word child-like to a grown woman's nose, especially since he didn't think of her as a child, but he supposed he couldn't control his thoughts very well.

Her lips were different from her nose. He saw mature beauty in them, especially when remembering all the lovely things she had done with them in private.

His cock pulsed a bit. Then he noted her sad expression, and then his own sadness bore down into his heart, causing him to wilt a bit.

"Darling, are you thinking something terrible about me?"

One of her eyes twitched, and she turned her body a bit to face him. One of her legs peeked out, and Erdgar realized that she was completely bare underneath the cloak.

His cock pulsed again.

Danetta's cheeks were gently rouged; it almost seemed natural. Her lips, however, had been wiped clean. They were still quite rosy, though. Her tongue wiped the lower lip and left a shimmery layer of saliva behind. "You're the one who called the locksmith. You're the one who asked for an investigation. I don't believe you'd do anything evil. However," and here her eyelids lowered and her face lost a bit of vibrancy, "something awful clearly happened on our lands, in our home, and this revelation has upset me."

"Are you sincere, or are you trying to appease me?"

And again, he had regrets.

Danetta's face reddened, but before any tears had a chance to form, he gently put his hands to her cheeks, his fingers spreading out, the thumbs lightly caressing the corners of her mouth. There was a time when he would have been ashamed, almost disgusted, to put his scarred flesh onto this woman he considered to be so beautiful. He soon realized, though, that Danetta felt no humiliation when he touched her. At this point, whenever he touched her, he felt something akin to pride.

This comely creature, this openhearted person, she often became aroused by him. Certainly, there were times when she simply didn't want to have intercourse, and the same could be said for Erdgar. Both men and women had moments when they weren't in the mood. But, generally, he was mad for her, and she was mad for him.

She was mad for a husk of a man. She'd often tremble and flush, her labia swelling up, her darkly sweet desire oozing out of her, preparing herself for him. She'd place any of her intimate parts against any part of his body he desired, no matter how disturbing his flesh was. In fact, since she was a lover of unique textures, she was often excited by it. The texture of his skin, of course, not the fact that he had been burned. Danetta still occasionally expressed a querulous sort of sympathy for his previous suffering.

So, when Edgar saw the marred backs of his hands contrasted against the loveliness of his wife's face, there was a surge of blood in his loins, and he knew he could, and would, have her begging him to never stop touching her.

"Please forgive me," he requested with a voice he knew would sound like honey to her. "I'm very distressed."

His wife released her cloak, letting it fall around her, and he saw her nude body for quite possibly the millionth time. It hadn't lost its charms. Even with the old stretch marks on her belly, he couldn't find a fault in her appearance. It might be rather hypocritical if he did.

Danetta's eyes softened. Her lips seemed amazingly sultry as she said, "Hold me."

He did.

All around her, his hands taking in her soft flesh, his nose loving her natural scents gently enhanced by her perfume.

His teeth found her earlobe under her hair, and he carefully seized the tiny bit of skin, gently suckling on it, his tongue tasting a little gemstone.

"Ah!" Her breath was so sharp, but so needy. Her fingers dug into his coat. He knew he'd remove it soon. The fire was heating him up anyway. He had to be careful. He had difficulty sweating. Stupid, fucking burns. It was difficult to keep his body strong at times, because he had to make sure he didn't overheat.

But he couldn't just sag about. Not when he had people to look after.

And certainly not when he had a wife to please.

"Hmmm?" He left the earlobe alone so he could taste the pretty little helix, which had his wife shivering and keening.

She tugged on his clothes, begging him to undress. Erdgar pulled back and slid his coat away. Danetta went to his waistcoat, her eyes hungry.

A few moments of unbuttoning, untying, and tugging, and soon, Erdgar's clothing was in a pile on the floor. He was nude before her, warm and free. Danetta's graceful fingers glided up and down his skin. She put her lips against his chest, lightly kissing and licking at even the most unpleasant parts of him. He couldn't feel her touch there as well as a normal person would, because the burns had decreased the amount of physical sensation he could feel there, but he still loved that she kissed him.

When she pressed her hands harder in his skin, he felt it, though. Deeper touch was very much something he could feel. It was something he appreciated, something that had both his mind and his cock saluting the woman.

He let her curls slide between his fingers, watched how the locks were pulled taut for a few seconds and then bounced back to their natural shapes. He loved how his hands could still feel the glossy hair. Then he tugged on her locks, just enough for her to feel it. He'd never actually try to rip her hair out. He was glad to hear her pleased little moans, coming out with a rhythm matching his mild pulling.

"You're a treat, Danetta, a candied pie." He released her hair and caressed her scalp.

"Is that so?" Danetta looked up at him with something sparkling in her eyes. It might have been mischief.

Her fingers slid down the sides of his torso, then to his hips. Her nose wiggled as she smiled. Then one of her hands curled around his penis. Her soft fingertips pressed up and down, from the shaft, to the corona, over the head, and then back down the shaft again. Erdgar felt the warm, familiar echo of blood in his muscles. He was stiffening up.

Erdgar reached down to grip his wife's cloak, and he threw it aside. It made a thick fluttering sound as it went through the air for a moment.

Then he sank his mouth into Danetta's, tasting her teeth and tongue. His eyes closed as her fingers constricted around his erection, and he adored the tight, pulling feelings there. He sucked in her tongue as a response, groaning into her, feeling and listening to her high pitched mewls. It got to a point where his hips were rocking into her hand.

Soon, though, it had to end. He pried her hand away from his erection and gave her tongue one more lick. Then he kissed her brow and asked her to lie down on the rug.

Danetta's body writhed against the fur beneath her. Her body was blushing, her chest was slowly rising and falling with her excited breathing. Those lovely pink nipples were pointed and needy. Sometimes, when he tasted them, there was a hint of rouge. As he crawled over her body, his knees bent, his fingers pressing through the fur, he tested Danetta's nipple with the front of his tongue.

Her body rose to him. Her arms embraced him. Erdgar decided to reward her affection with a delicately drawn circle around her areola. Then he took the little bud into his mouth and drew on her, humming as he did so. He thought he felt something down his back, but he wasn't sure. Perhaps Danetta was lightly scratching lines down his back? It wouldn't be the first time. He was having some difficulty because he couldn't sense the touch very well.

One of his hands pressed into her breast, the one he wasn't happily sipping on. He loved the fullness of it. He loved how the soft flesh yielded to his grip.

"Ah! Ahhhh!" Her voice was sharp and tasty.

His lips slid up to her collarbone, then her shoulder, and then her neck. His teeth claimed the sensitive skin there, just deep enough to have her feel something, giving her another reason to whine to him. Then he kissed her mouth again.

Already, her legs were wrapping around him, and she was begging him to come inside. Supporting himself with a folded arm, he used his free arm to reach her legs. His fingers pressed against her heated curls. He found moisture, but he wanted more. He sank his fingers deep into her, and he easily located her favorite little spot.

"Yes! Yes! Oh Erdgar!" Her body arched. Her head tilted back. She was all spice and madness. Her slick channel was squeezing him. He kept at it for a moment, observing the struggling in her face, feeling the muscles deep in inside her.

And when she was almost there, almost at the point where she was the most beautiful in his eyes, he pulled his fingers out. The woman gazed up at him with a combination of anger and betrayal in her eyes. How dare he? How dare he tease her so?

He grinned down at her, and then he gripped her hip.

Then he shoved himself into her, and they both grunted at the motion. She was hot silk around his cock, wet and ready. As he thrust back on forth, his testicles slapped against her, and he loved every single bit of contact.

"Do you still enjoy this, Darling?"

Danetta whined out, "It's wonderful ... so wonderful!"

"Hm? Does your husband's cock please you?"

Her legs seemed to slither around his body. Her breasts bounced. Her head rolled back and forth against the white fur rug, her hair glittering about her. "I love it! I love it so much!"

"Do you like how this big cock fills you up?"

Her pussy squeezed him harder. "Yes, Erdgar! Ohhhh!"

He shivered around her. "Hmmmm ... that's a relief, Darling, because I love filling you up."

And he pushed in as tight as he could, putting in that extra bit of length that he knew would drive her mad. He barked out an order, "Tell me you want me to fuck you!"

She was a courteous little woman who often shied away from vulgar words, but Erdgar eventually had learned that whenever he drove her into a wild mood, he could make her forget all about that.

Her voice turned dark yet fiery. "I want you to fuck me! Fuck me, Erdgar!"

"Again!" He needed her to say it. He needed to hear her put her desire into words, honest words, words that weren't dusted with the crushed flower petals of politeness.

"Yes! Fuck me! I need more! More!"

And her eyes seemed to roll back. Her limbs twitched. She howled out her pleasure. Her delicious little cunt sucked him in, and he released a low growl as his testicles seized up. He gave her shorter strokes, and then he slammed in a final time, spurting out his seed.

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