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Sylvia is desperate – REALLY desperate. She's tired of the debt her uncle left her, she's tired of sleeping on the raggedy old chair, she's tired of not being able to afford her favorite cheap ramen on days. She wants money, and now. So she accepted a potion order that she presumed to be a completely innocent concoction. Just a simple potion to make your skin more radiant, right? Oh, how wrong she was.
She should've found it suspicious with the way her client darted their eyes nervously, stammered out cryptic words, gave her a hastily-written recipe, and finally said, "It has to be from a handsome man." Sylvia had no idea what that meant in this context but before she could inquire further, the client rushed out of her store. At the time, Sylvia shrugged at the whole situation and went to research this particular skincare potion, scanning the recipe and going through her dusty tomes. She must've read for hours, before it finally hit her. And it sure hit her...hard.
"This potion..." Sylvia held in her breath. She re-read the recipe and her tomes over and over to make doubly sure – triply and quadruply sure, even.
"IT NEEDS SEMEN!?" In her exclamation, she throws all the books and papers up in the air, causing all the dust to scatter and her research unceremoniously on the floor. Wow, is she glad Oswald isn't around.
She clutches her head in disbelief and stares at the cauldron in front of her. "And it has to be warm semen..." She knows what that means – she may be inexperienced, but she's not naive. Sylvia can't simply chuck in a vial of...the thing, it has to be extracted straight into the cauldron WHILE it's brewing. Oh, she's gonna be sick. Not only that, how in the world is she going to get something like that? How many handsome men did she know and could ask without it being utterly awkward?
Corsac? No way, Sylvia had just beat him in the competition and made his acquaintance. It is way too soon to ask, but also when is this ever appropriate to ask?
Muktuk? While she herself finds him appealing, most humans would not find him conventionally attractive.
Quinn? They would kill her. And probably in the most painful way too.
Baptiste? "..." She pauses at that, but then quickly shakes her head at the thought.
Maybe it isn't too late to turn down the request? But the client is offering her a pretty penny for this potion, so if she did this... For the first time in a long while, she would be able to treat herself! And not even the more expensive ramen packs, she could have steak, or lobster, or dare she say it, both steak and lobster! She's already salivating. She has to do it – for her stomach.
But god, is this an impossible task or what? She clutches her head again, slightly pulling on her copper-red locks out of agony. What does she do? Maybe she can sneak into a handsome man's house and force the juices out of him while he's sleeping? No, that's a crime – and she would rather die than be caught for doing something so shameful as that.
"Baptiste..." she utters out loud. Maybe, just maybe, he would help her out? He is way too kind for his own good, and it's very possible he would chalk this up to helping a friend out. He'd probably laugh awkwardly, proclaim that obviously he is a "handsome man," do his thing, and then say this would be their little secret that they'll never EVER bring up again.
Sylvia sighs and slinks into her chair, still contemplating whether she should ask and drifts off to sleep.
It's already morning, and Oswald is nowhere to be seen. Good – serves that owl right for lying to her, but she's also absolutely grateful he won't see what's going to happen to the shop's cauldron. He'd most likely die on the spot. But enough of that, it's time. Time to ask Baptiste whether or not he wants to donate some of his...swimmers. She cringes at the thought and mentally panics on how she wants to ask him.
"Baptiste, I need your semen to make a potion that'll get me lots of money." Way to sound creepy and greedy there, Sylvia.
"Baptiste, I know this is strange to ask for... but I need your semen for a potion a client requested." Okay, sounding a little better but still not that much better.
"Baptiste, would you be down to ejaculate into my cauldron?" God, no. That straight up sounds like sexual harassment, even more so.
And before she knows it, Sylvia is already at the front of the Heroes Guild. She breathes in and out, almost hyperventilating, but she has to calm down – otherwise she would faint from all the anxiety. She nervously hops off her broom, catching it as it magically slides into her hand and heads on inside the hall.
Baptiste eyes her immediately and dramatically bows at her, a hand to his chest and his other arm splayed in the air. "My dear Sylvia, fancy seeing you so early in the morning! Are you here to give the guild some missions?" He quickly flips through his papers. "We can send some heroes out to get you ingredients from the Crystalline Forest today."
Sylvia parks her broom near the entrance and nervously chuckles as she walks up to the bar, "Well no, I'm actually here for something else..."
"Ice Craggs then? Hm, that won't be until tomorrow, I'm afraid." The man swiftly combs his hair with a hand before looking through the papers again.
"No, no, it's not that either!" She waves her hands in front of her face frantically, still mentally trying to find a way to ask him in the most polite and least awkward way. Come on, Sylvia, just ask him! Even if he says no, he'll still be friends with you... 80% sure of that at least.
"Well then, my dear potion-maker, how about you sit here at the bar and I'll mix you up a drink, and you tell me what you want?" Baptiste gives his signature smile – although it looks cunning and wily, it's nothing but genuine and friendly.
She gulps but takes up on that offer. Maybe this will ease the tension when she ultimately asks him. Sylvia seats herself on the bar stool, fidgeting a little, when she notices Baptiste taking out a few bottles from under the bar.
"Would you like some alcohol? It might be a little too early in the morning, but I can mix a mimosa if you wish to start your day off like tha–"
"Yes, please!" Sylvia exclaims. The alcohol might be able to calm her nerves! Booze is the key! – the key to give her the confidence to finally get the question over with!
He laughs at her enthusiasm, unknowing what's been plaguing her mind for the past twelve hours. "My lady, I shall make you a glass of mimosa then." He deftly mixes her a drink and pours it into a flute, adding an orange slice to the top as flourish. "I hope you enjo–"
Before he could finish, she quickly snatches the glass and drinks all of its content in one gulp. "More." She demands, shoving the flute back to him. Sylvia doesn't get to drink that often and she's also not one to drink more than one glass at a time, but what she doesn't know is that she is a LIGHT drinker. Not only is she a light drinker, but she's loud, giddy, and aggressive when drunk (news to her).
"Yeah...so Baptiste...yoouuu're..." Sylvia starts slurring her words. How many mimosas did she drink? Two, three? That seems little, oh well, she shrugs mentally.
"That might be enough alcohol for you, my dear." He tries to take the glass back, but Sylvia grabs his hand over it. He brushes her hand away and scolds her lightheartedly, "Sylvia, I'm going to need you to sober up."
"Screw sobering up!" Sylvia yells, causing a few early-riser heroes to look at her from their tables before going back to what they were doing. She turns to face the guildmaster. "You're handsome, right!?"
"Why, of course I am." Baptiste smirks. "I am ranked in top five for the most handsome eligible bachelors in all of Rafta according to the most recent newspapers!" Huh, Sylvia didn't think that ranking bachelors would even be considered newsworthy, but that's neither here nor there.
"Well listen, handsome man, I've got a little proposal for you!" She clears her throat. "Scratch that, BIG proposal! And you're free to say no, and if it's too awkward, we can pretend I never asked or you can not be friends with me, WHATEVER!"
The man snickers inwardly at his comrade's outbursts. He has definitely seen her passionate before, but it has never been to this extent and it greatly amuses him. "What is it, my lady?" he asks, while sliding a glass of water her way.
"I–" Sylvia chokes. She grabs the glass of water and chugs it, setting it down afterward. "I need your help, Baptiste. And it's not easy for me, so I hope you don't think I'm creepy after you hear what I ask of you."
Baptiste leans towards her reassuringly over the bar counter. "I could never find you creepy." She could feel his warm breath on her when he whispers that. Focus, Sylvia, focus!
"Baptiste, I... I need you to extract... some seminal fluids... for a potion that I'm working on..." She feels a wave of dizziness on her already, and it's not because of the booze. "And you have to do it at my shop... because it needs to be fresh... and it has to be from a handsome man..."
Silence.
God, Baptiste, say something!! She refuses to look at him, she's way too embarrassed. She doesn't want to see his reaction, she doesn't want to see his disgust, she just wants to leave. And that's what she plans to do. She clumsily gets up from her bar stool to get ready to run far far away, but suddenly feels a hand on her shoulder before she's able to.
"This is certainly a bizarre request, however... I can tell this is very important to you. I'll help in any way that I can." He suddenly pulls a rose from his pocket. "And what kind of gentleman would leave a damsel in distress to suffer in this predicament, albeit very strange predicament?"
"Oh, thank you!" She struggles to look at him clearly, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. "If you can come over tonight, that would be help me so much!"
She's so excited she can barely contain herself, and turns around to leave before tripping on herself. Baptiste chuckles and walks around the counter to help her up. "But before you leave, my dear lady, you do need to sober up before driving on your broom."
Baptiste is a very busy man, and normally he would reject such a crazy request and say it's not within his power, but he has a soft spot for the local potion-maker. A little too soft, he admits. In the back of his mind, he thought this was just an extremely contrived way of her telling him that she wants him. He wouldn't mind that, he hums to himself. But what if she actually needs help? He doesn't want to tread any further, in fear of rejection. Despite him being the object of many's desires, he simply does not have the time nor fervor for a relationship – but that could perhaps change with Sylvia. Either she wants him or needs his help, he's all too happy to oblige.
But now he stands in front of her cauldron with his pants down, his junior definitely not in the mood to harden – there is nothing arousing with this situation. He's tried as hard as he can, even imagining Sylvia naked, caressing and kissing her, and doing naughty things to her. While that did help him for a brief moment, he would suddenly become aware of his surroundings and lose his erection.
Perhaps this is too much for him to handle – he would have to regrettably disappoint his lovely potion-maker. He picks his pants up and dresses himself up, before knocking on the basement door. "Sylvia?"
Sylvia hurriedly opens the basement door. Man, is she glad that Roxanne usually goes out at night to glam it up at parties. "Are you..." She clears her throat nervously. "Are you done?"
"Unfortunately not," Baptiste sighs. "This environment is a little too... how do I say it?"
"Not exciting? Unarousing?" She finishes as she climbs herself up to ground level.
"Yes, well..." The man coughs in his fist uncomfortably, blushing. "Normally, I would do this in my own privacy with my own thoughts, and although technically I was alone in this room, I also felt very seen. I hope you understand?"
"I do," the other says dejectedly. What could she do to help? Maybe she can spruce up the shop to be sexier! She shrugs her own stupid suggestion out of her head. Maybe she'd have to personally help him. Desperate times call for desperate measures! "Baptiste, I would completely understand if you say no, but would it help if I take my top off for you?"
Without thinking, Baptiste blurts out, "Please!" And he looks away abashed, his face completely red. "I mean, if only you are comfortable."
That did not go unnoticed by Sylvia. Even though she's never been in a relationship before, she has always been the flirtatious type and knows when someone is interested in her – although she is unaware of how interested Baptiste is into her.
Without saying anything more, she unbuttons her white blouse and tosses it to the ground. Baptiste watches her like a hawk, eyeing her next move with an almost predatory look to his face. Sylvia then moves to unbuckle her overalls, each click driving the man crazy with anticipation. At long last, with the top part of her overalls draped over, she reaches for her sweater, lifts it up and – there they are...
Baptiste had only been able to see her breasts in his imagination, but here they are, in the flesh. He swallows, the full clarity of the situation he's in now finally hitting him. Even though this is for the sake of the potion, he's not exactly complaining. And his pants is getting tighter, that's for sure.
Sylvia finally chucks her sweater away, her face visibly red now that she's exposed herself to the guildmaster. "I–uh, I'll look away while you do your business."
The man quickly snaps out of his ogling. While he usually does everything with dignity and grace, he couldn't help but rush to this pant buckle and zipper in such a clumsy way that it made him curse of how ungentlemanly he's handling this. "I shall start then..." he whispers almost inaudibly.
He reaches down and starts to stroke himself, his eyes glued to her breasts. But he wants to do so much more than look – he wants to squeeze them, he wants to pinch her nipples, but most importantly, he wants to hear her moan while he teases her. He's excited and he wants to eat her up, he's much greedier than he lets off.
While Sylvia lets him do his thing, she is rather curious what it looks like. She never had any sort of sex education growing up, and they certainly didn't teach THAT at her academy. Against her better judgment, she cracks open an eye to see it. She's shocked at how huge it is, way bigger than she anticipated – she didn't know if it's usually that big or if that's just...Baptiste's size. But more than that, she's struck in awe how red and engorged the tip is – all in the while, his hand strokes the shaft from down at the base then up to just below the tip. This is all happening while he's looking at her. She didn't know she was able to elicit such a reaction.
"What's it like...?" she asks without thinking.
"It..." But before he answers, a devilish thought crosses his mind. "My dear lady, would you like to touch it for yourself?" His large grin is anything but pure now, and he knows this is going to lead to things – things they can never take back. But right now, his mind is completely addled with lust, and all he wants is Sylvia to touch him.
"T-Touch it?" She stammers out shyly, her whole face and neck now cherry red. "Only if y-you're okay with it!" She's shocked at her own words.
"Of course," he closes in on her, whispering sweetly into her ear. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I deprive you of this?" Baptiste nimbly slips a glove off of her hand, touches her, which causes her to yelp, and guides her to his pulsing cock.
She gasps – she feels his hand wrap around hers as she clutches around it. "It's warm," she mutters and then gasps again when she realizes he's guiding her to stroke him. Eventually he lets go, and Sylvia continues to stroke him carefully at first, but then picks up the pace.
Although calm and collected at first, Baptiste sweats and pants under his breath from her ministration. He's not sure if this whole set of circumstances is even appropriate – he always assumed he would save this for a more romantic situation, but god is he enjoying this way more than he should. On one hand, being jerked off in a dusty shop in front of a cauldron is less than ideal, but on the other hand, he is being touched by the woman who's ever caught his eye.
How far are both of them willing to go? Because Baptiste certainly wants more, and he wonders if she would be willing to take him in her mouth.
Admittedly, he didn't know what a "blowjob" was before he became the guildmaster, what with the heroes in his guildhall teasing him if he's ever gotten laid. And one of the heroes jeered even further saying that Baptiste most likely never got a blowjob before. That whole week, he inquired every hero what a "blowjob" was, which caused all the heroes to burst out in laughter even more. Their mockery didn't bother him one bit, and this newfound information had him pretty curious on what the experience would feel like.
"Sylvia," he purrs in her ear. "Would you like to use your mouth?"
She looks at him in bewilderment but then ponders. "Oh, you mean a blowjob? I've never done one before, well truthfully all of this is my first sexual experience ever," she chuckles nervously. "But I can try if it'll help you."
Pride swells up in his chest at the mention of him being her first sexual experience. He's starting to realize he's more possessive of his dear potion-maker than he initially thought.
Sylvia kneels down in front of him, facing toward his poised erection which seems to be getting harder by the minute. It's more imposing now that she has such a clear view of it. And the scent... she's smelled a lot of things due to the nature of working with potions, but she has never smelled something so distinctly musky as this. She feels herself becoming wetter by the second, and it surprises her just how much this affects her. She craves for something even more than solely giving him a blowjob – but this is about making him come tonight, for the potion of course.
She's not sure how to start but she's heard things back in her academy days, so all she could do really is to emulate what she's heard to the best of her abilities. Holding Baptiste's cock at the base with her ungloved hand, she nears closer and soon touches the tip with her lips. She distinctly remembers that part of a "good experience" is to make it completely wet – she swirls her tongue around his tip coating it with a layer of saliva, and then dives herself deeper down his shaft. Her lips stop right where her hand is. Even if her hand wasn't there, she couldn't have been able to go down any farther – there is no way she could deepthroat him with how huge he is. And much to her neverending surprise, he continues to grow harder, throbbing ever so slightly.
Sylvia is so preoccupied that she doesn't realize that Baptiste is doing everything in his power to hold back from fucking her mouth. He grits his teeth – he can only be patient for so long, and he is a VERY patient man. "Sylvia, I–" He cuts himself off abruptly and places his hands on the sides of her head, slightly pulling on her hair.
The woman underneath looks up confused before she feels a tug on her hair, pulling her head further from the base and then – SLAM! He pushes her head down, the tip of his cock reaching the back of her throat in one swift motion. She sees stars, her mind utterly hazy now, and then it registers in her head that's he doing it over and over and over again, with an increased erratic pace. Her hands clutch to the sides of his legs to keep herself steady for dear life.
"Ha..." Baptiste breathes weakly. "Such a good lady you are, taking me like this..." His body isn't going to last much longer, his balls becoming taut – and he's devolved to being so feral from this new experience that he starts to thrust his hips into her mouth, abandoning all of the gentlemanly restraint he's been taught his whole life. He might actually be obsessed with this. "Sylvia, I hope you're ready..."
And then he comes – comes straight into her mouth, forcing it down her throat as he holds her head in place. Her eyes roll up as she feels herself slowly suffocate from everything that's happening. She swallows all of it, every last drop.
He finally releases her and drops to his knees in front of Sylvia, laughing sheepishly. "My dear, I hope you're all right. I may have been a little too rough on you."
"Ish aiiight..." she responds drowsily leaning her head on his shoulder. This took so much of her energy, and they didn't even have the actual thing yet. But then suddenly, a realization hit her – "The potion, Baptiste! The potion!"
It dawns on him as well, and he widens his eyes. "I apologize! I was too absorbed into the moment that I completely forgot what our original intention was!"
Sylvia slumps down more but she chuckles and kisses his neck. "I guess it's time for round 2 then?"
Baptiste returns the sentiment and kisses the top of her head. "If that's what my lovely potion-maker wishes to do, then do we shall."