Page 12 of Basket Case

Several strands bristled at once. I ignored his outrage and touched one of the leaves. It was soft, with tiny veins beneath the surface, and Creel made a quiet sound when I rubbed it between my finger and thumb.

“Can you feel the leaves too?”

Every part of me.

I gave the leaf a playful tug and it came away in my hand. Creel yelped so loudly that I almost fell backwards.

“Shit. Sorry. I didn’t think it would come off.”

You destroyed part of me!

“I'm sorry. It came away really easily.”

I fail to see how that improves matters.

I stroked the bare stem with one finger, feeling strangely guilty. “Does it hurt?”

It stings.

“I’m sorry.” A new bud pushed out beneath my fingertip and opened into a replacement leaf. Relief made me smile. “There. You’ve grown another one.”

Don't you dare pluck that one.

“I won’t. I promise.” I leaned forwards and kissed the new leaf before I had time to question that very questionable impulse.

The wicker trembled beneath my lips.

That small, involuntary reaction affected me more than his dirty comments had. He’d spent years sitting in Gran’s cottage, unable to speak or feel anyone touching him. Before that, he’d belonged to other MacRaes. I had no idea how long he’d been trapped in the creel, but his desperation whenever I stroked him gave me a fairly good clue. He was desperate for attention and for being touched.

I stood and pulled my jumper over my head. Creel’s cock immediately regained the inches he had removed in the kitchen.

“Subtle.”

You are beautiful.

I cringed. “You really have been asleep for a long time.”

That does not make me blind.

“You don’t have eyes.”

That doesn't mean I can't see. I don't have a mouth and yet we're communicating. Let go of the narrow constraints of your human mind. It will do you good. Now take off the breast cage.

His commanding tone went straight to my clit.

I unfastened my bra and let it drop to the floor. I was naked in front of a sentient wicker basket. For some reason, that didn't bother me as much as it should have done.

I squeezed into the shower and pulled the door shut. Creel filled the end of the tray beneath the controls, and I had to stand with my feet on either side of the cock rising from his front. Warm water ran over my hair and down my back, while the basket’s new leaves trembled beneath the spray. When an extremely long wicker tentacle uncoiled from his side, I pointed the shampoo bottle at it.

“Behave. I want to wash first.”

I thought you wanted me to join you.

“I meant you could be in the shower. I didn’t say you could immediately start poking things into me.”

The tentacle grew higher and took the shampoo bottle from my hand.

“You can’t possibly know how to wash hair.”