Sex Genie: Pleasing My Master

Stephen's brow furrowed, his eyebrows descending as he felt anger, the first strips of powerless being felt, "That doesn't help us, Grace! That doesn't help them! There has to be something you can do! Anything!"

Another tear fell from the other eye, making its own trail down her cheek. Her hand shot up, wiping it away quickly, before she spoke softly, "I care about him just as much as you do, Stephen. He's part of you, I understand that, truly. If there was anything I could do to help, I would. I just don't have the powers to make it so."

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Stephen's eyes closed, as if assuming some of his grandfather's pain himself. There was nothing he could do then. He felt so... helpless. Powerless, despite this magical creature beside him, to lesson the pain of his loved ones. He had finally found a fault line in Grace's powers, and the moment was humbling beyond doubt.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Master," Grace practically squeaked, her head hung low. "I have disappointed you. I will leave you alone for a while, if that is your wish?"

Stephen's eyes popped open, searching the bright blue, yet incredibly sad eyes in front of him. Those perfect, endless pools that had so captured his heart from the first moment she entered his life. Yet here she was, in the same amount of pain he was in, and probably feeling just as helpless to do her master's bidding. His heart softened. He had pressed her too hard, past the limits of her powers. And he felt worse about that.

"No, Grace," he said firmly, reaching out to entwine her fingers with his own. "Let's just go to the family lounge. We can wait there together."

She said nothing, but gave a simple nod to acknowledge his words, and let him lead the way to the deserted family lounge. On an empty couch, they sat together, with Grace's body heavily pressed into Stephen's side, and thought about the state of events from the last twenty four hours. Her head drifted to his chest, using his body as her personal pillow as they clung to each other as a source of content.

As her hair pressed against his nose, and that faint hint of jasmine once against drifted into his senses, Stephen began to feel ashamed at the way he had just treated her. In the public hospital corridor, he had raised his voice, no practically yelled, at Grace in front of strangers. What's worse is that she just took it, accepted his anger, and when there was nothing left to do, offered to give him some space. Anyone else may have fought back, became angry themselves, or potentially have left and never come back.

Not Grace though. She was tethered to him for life, no matter what. That is, unless he set her free, which no matter how much better he liked the idea of ending her servitude, she seemed to recoil in utter fear at the very thought.