Darkroom Saga Omnibus 2

by Poppet

  She tilts her face, looking up at me, moisture darkening her eyelashes and making her eyes glimmer like wells of good fortune. “You smell good.”

  She changes the subject, her voice still ambrosia for my libido, husky and velvet, seductive. It's so difficult to not get hard around her, it's slowly killing me.

  “So do you.”

  She licks her lips and stares at my mouth, her own slowly softening into a tiny grin.

  “Blossom, were you playing me? It takes balls to just put my heart on the table like that.”

  “And you have balls, two of them. God would be very proud.”

  “Are you teasing me?” I ask, not wanting to fuck up and do something inappropriate. It's better to ask, right?

  “If you think this is teasing you have a very short memory Mr Kenan Ward.”

  She looks at my mouth again and I finally get the hint. My holy balls are somewhere in my throat with nerves, when I lean down, softly closing my lips on hers, yanking back when she bites mine.

  She giggles vivaciously, slapping her leg, “I told you I was going to bite next time. So is this our third date yet?”

  “Jesus lady, you fuck with my mind.”

  “Oh yeah? As I recall I did more than just fuck your mind, darling.”

  “Oi, darling is my word, get your own,” I grin, loving this moment, hoping it lasts forever.

  “Hmmm, that's a hard one,” she frowns, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

  Grabbing that petite hand I jam it over my groin, “Objection, this is a hard one.”

  “I'm game if you are,” she says, her smile wavering, her eyes taking on that holocaust watery look.

  The frivolity freezes and I feel pressured and tense. “But what–”

  “Kenan, get with the program. I may be blonde but I'm not stupid. The first time you put me on your bed and made me watch TV you gave me a marathon of Devious Maids. At first I thought it was because you wanted to get me into a cleaning mood, to encourage me to be a housewife, but then the real reason became clear: the covert filming of couples having sex. You even said as much in the lodge, when you told me to behave as if god was watching us. I know how you earn bonus bucks at church, I know we can't hide here forever. I can't have our first time be in an auditorium full of people because that bastard orders us to. We have to cross this bridge. I believe you, I do. I've heard you, I've watched you, and I believe you when you say you love me. I thought maybe I did too, before Matthew… but… I'm almost there, except for this bloody bastard mountain always between us. I want to try.”

  “But the smell of cum makes you sick, your reaction is violent.”

  She smiles, it's small and secretive, “So wear a condom.”

  I hold my hands up helplessly, “How? From where?”

  “My make-up bag. I've had Celia stealing them from the stash at church for me.”

  It hits me like an arrow from a stealthy crossbow, “She told you? She told you what I do.”

  She nods, saying, “But you're also a personal trainer, and I'm going to be one too. I need something to occupy my mind or I'll be a lunatic chewing on my own hair before a year is out, so you're going to have an assistant.”

  Smiling, I grab her, folding her against me, never wanting to let go, hugging her like a crazed hobo cradling his wine, laughing, the weight that's been crushing me finally ascending back to its guilt cloud to give someone else a thunderstorm.

  All I can think about are those condoms, but first I kiss her, deep and long and wild, like we used to. Promising, “I'm going to dress you in kisses and tickle your soul. Until you're old and crotchety and beating me off with your walking stick.”

  “Oh yeah? You'd better be prepared because I know this guy who taught me killer moves with a broom handle.”

  “He sounds like a nice guy,” I smile, gauging her reaction, watching her eyes intently.

  “He is,” she whispers, burying into my shoulder and squeezing me.

  Good guys finish last, because they get the girl and keep her. Fuck, there goes my street cred.

  ~ Chapter 20 ~

  For in the same way, the holy wives of former times, whose hope was towards God, also adorned themselves, being in subjection to their own husbands; just as Sarah submissively obeyed Abraham calling him, "Lord, who owns me"; whose spiritual child you became when you began doing what was right and were absolutely not afraid of any terror.

  ~1 Peter 3:5

  Kenan:

  I thank god for holy instruction. My sexual repertoire has ensured that when she let me back in she found that the desire god planted in her had not waned, it had not suffered, and even though she was punished I have managed to restore her joy.

  Her cheeks have their healthy blush back, the energy is back in her walk, and after endless reassurances she's once again willing to walk around the house in her sexy lingerie. The egg is back in, and my libido is finally satisfied at home with the woman I chose. We have a final hurdle to overcome, her naked in public, and at the lodge. It's time to make us official.

  Candace has been here for over eleven months; the first two where life was a challenge, indoctrinating her into the perfection of the Sons of Cain, into the liberation of following the first command, to confidently wear the naked form as we were initially created, to embrace that the body clothes the spirit, it is not shameful, and it is enough because god saw that it was good.

  Then the nine months following where I had to hold her together, rebuild her perception of herself and our elite sect, being patient with her, proving that we never abandon a cause even when it would be the easiest route. These past three weeks I've cleared my schedule, staying home, and remaining naked all day every day. It's only in making it commonplace that attitudes adjust and embrace change. Seeing me as god created me is something to which she's now accustomed, and I've pressured her into joining my liberation. Holy fuck, does staring at her body never get old?

  In the privacy and safety of our home I masturbated in front of her, while she masturbated in front of me. Over a period of weeks we did this daily, then I upped the ante, cumming on her, and she's finally over the psychotic fear of semen. She's handling it. The final stage is nigh. I coaxed her out for the evening, to my favorite restaurant. It's inside the compound and we wore just our cloaks, eating in the romantic ambiance completely nude, along with all the other patrons, my brethren. And she didn't panic, she didn't freak out, if anything it made her quite the flirtatious minx. When we got home it got wild and I finally slipped inside her tight wet body without a bullet proof vest. Harmony and righteousness is restored.

  Still inside her, my cock twitching, the priapic purge the sweetest yet, I murmur into the ear next to my cheek, “Marry me.”

  “What?” she says, shock hushing her voice.

  “Bond with me officially, so that they can't ever touch you again without my express permission, so that if they ever hurt you again I can introduce them to the meaning of Armageddon up close and nasty.”

  She forces me up, looking into my eyes, “Is that why? Because you're possessive?”

  “Fucking straight I am. I want you to be my very own, always. I want them all to know that you are my woman, the one made for me when god created them male and female, because he saw that it was good, and I feel it. When I'm with you my world is good; your essence has a sublime way of sustaining my sanity. You know I love you, let's make it official.”

  “With a ring and everything?” she smiles, looking rather delighted if I do say so myself.

  Laughing, I kiss her nose, muttering, “Sliding a ring on a finger is highly suggestive of a carnal act, but no, we don't do rings on fingers. We… I don't want to ruin the surprise, just say yes already, fuckenhell lady.”

  “Yes,” she smiles, her voice salaciously melting and gooey.

  It's enough to make me hard again, and this time I do it so slow, savoring every inch of bliss.

  We've had 'the chat'. If she doesn't partner with me in tutorials I'm left with no
choice but to do it with someone else in the congregation. I've explained how it works, that it's fairly private, just the two of us and a cameraman. To my surprise she agreed.

  “That was easier than I thought it was going to be,” I said, stroking her thigh, staring at the swollen pout of smiling lips, those gorgeous lips that now accept my cock without fear, without vomiting, without hardship.

  Oh yes, god has given her a new heart and a new mind. Ezekiel 36:26.

  “Ken, nothing could shock me now. I'll have you know that you have singlehandedly redeemed my opinion of your gender. I've seen the worst and the best. What they did, I wanted to die, I wanted to cut off my boobs and hack out my womb, to be androgynous. The thought of being just a fucking vessel, that was all I was, just a body made to fuck, as if I don't have a mind, a soul, a spirit, as if I don't have emotions, as if my suffering has no consequence just so long as dicks have a place to bury and purge, it sickened me. It ruined me. The thought of living, existing, viewed in that light, treated with that level of disdain, like a clay pot, but one with a beating heart and hot blood so I feel good to my abuser, I'd rather be dead. It circled, it preyed on me, it was endless and relentless and I hated you, I hated them.”

  Inching back, making me withdraw, she sits up, looking at me with tears in her eyes, “I hated you for saving my life. I hated you for making me a slave and prisoner. I was free, I was independent, and Jan screwed up, she took me down with her, and you gave me safety but the cost to my sanity was too high. A woman needs to feel cherished and special, touched with tenderness and reverence, to feel whole. It's only when we feel cherished that we want to play, only then is being rough and wild fun. But if it's just sex and I'm just a cum bucket, then the desire to play and fuck and be slutty is no longer part of the mental equation. Then all I feel is loathing, for you and for myself.”

  My nerves are strangling my neck, breathing is difficult, sitting here silent while she gives her rage voice, her tears free falling, her hands shaking violently in recollection.

  “I wanted to cut Matthew's dick off and ram it down his throat. If he thinks cum tastes so fucking good he should have to swallow his own vile medicine. I wanted to put him in a gay prison where some huge oaf makes him a bitch, so he knows what it feels like to be violently abused sexually. It wasn't fun, I wanted to die a thousand times over, their scriptures made me think god is a fucking dick, a misogynist who made his toys so he can watch them break each other, like we're some fucked up reality show for him, his amusement, his experiment. I'll tell you something Ken, if we're made in his image and we're like him, then he is a violent prick because that's how humans are. They're violent and aggressive and selfish. I didn't want to become that. I was a happy person, I believed the best of people, I never wanted anything to make me jaded and skeptical, I didn't need them ruining my innocence. I might have not been a virgin but my mind and heart were still innocent, and Matthew stole that from me. He raped my mind, he raped my soul!”

  What can I say? I can't change it, I can't fix it. I can't turn back time. I give a wry smile, teasing, “But you're my cum bucket.”

  Reaching for her, to hug her, she pushes my arm away, snapping, “It's not funny, Kenan.”

  “I know,” I say sincerely. “But that's why I asked you to be exclusively mine. I'm not Matthew.”

  And I didn't care what they did to women until they did it to you.

  She nods, wiping her eyes, “Let me finish. If it's with you, just you, I can handle it, but if they ever touch me that way again I'll maul them. I mean it. I will lose it in the worst possible way and will not be responsible for my actions.”

  Fuck. “Uhm, shit.”

  She gives me that look, the reproachful 'you suck' look.

  “Candy, hang ten. We're both here to stay, and you have just one more obstacle to endure and then we're free. Just you and me for eternity.”

  “What obstacle?”

  “The induction. After you're baptized and I give you the symbols of our exclusivity, then you'll be taken into the lodge to prove once and for all that you are not ashamed of your body, or sex. To be naked in a room filled with all of us, put in the circle and turned about, pointing to choose a partner. The spinitria is thrown down and whatever is on it is the act you'll perform with your partner. It will be the last time, I promise. They need to see you embrace the first command, to be naked, to go forth and multiply, without shame, restored to your initial perfection, as perfect and unashamed as the day you emerged from the womb. A child has no embarrassment at being naked, they do not even think about it, it has no consequence in their mental equation. You must be born again darling, you must be as that child to enter the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 18:3”

  She stares at me for a long time, silent, and I can see her calculating the pros and cons. She thinks it's unsafe for her out there in the world, she knows she can't escape without going through Duke and his henchmen, over a twelve foot wall with electrical fencing on the top, backed up with laser beam triggered alarms. It's either me for eternity, or she becomes the next best thing for whoever's in the mood. She's got no income, she relies on me to provide for her, she really has very few options. We made it thus. It's as we were created. Eve was made to help Adam, to be his companion, that's not so much to ask for in return, is it?

  “I'm doing this for you! Consider it the biggest and hardest gift I could ever give you. And I'm only doing it because I love you,” she says, firmly, with vehemence as if convincing herself.

  Smiling, I force her to let me hold her, comforting her. She'll be tense, she'll start to become anxious and terrified, best we get this over with now. Right now. Leaving her to get us drinks from the bar, I use the opportunity to phone the lodge, and Celia.

  It's now or never.

  It's the Friday before Christmas and here I am, finally. God should give medals for saintly patience.

  Tonight she proves her allegiance to the Sons of Cain. Beyond that I can finally exhale without stress, I can trust her again, no more suicide watch and endless encouragement. We'll cross the threshold from uncertainty to certainty. I have her clinging to my arm as I walk her to the baptism chamber inside the lodge. Celia, Sue, and Amy wait for her, lined up prettily next to the shallow heated pool in the atrium.

  It's a gorgeous room, the tiles and walls of rosy hued sandstone tile, the dunking pool two meters by two meters, bubbling merrily, rose petals floating on the surface of the scented water. The entire chamber is redolent with the scent of vanilla and apple, the orchids grown in here giving the 'bath' an exotic ambiance.

  Matthew waits, smugly posed, horns on his head, naked, waiting for her in the pool. She's digging her nails into my arm and I feel her fear. She hasn't seen him since he traumatized her.

  Celia sashays over, kissing Candace on the cheek, whispering in her ear, putting the ring of magnolia flowers on Candy's head, squeezing her hand, and I catch, “So proud of you.”

  Without a word Candy goes to Matthew, bending to his level in the pool, kissing him in greeting, which he indulges in to the max, the fucking dick, then she returns to me, her spine stiff, her eyes wide and frightened.

  Amy and Sue take our cloaks, rendering us naked, and I walk down the stone steps into the water with Candace, keeping her hand in mine, giving silent support when Matthew takes her other hand, applying pressure to her shoulder. “Candace Caine, as god's chosen channel, as his voice, with his authority, I am freeing you of all previous connections, sins, commitments, rebirthing you into the light and freedom of spiritual liberation.”

  Then without warning he shoves her back and I'm just quick enough to get my arm around her waist, ready to pull her back up as he thrusts her to the bottom of the pool, giving me a surreptitious glance of glee.

  I still have the irrepressible urge to slug him.

  Pulling her back up, I hold her, sopping wet, while she sputters and wipes water from her eyes and face.

  Taking her hand I lead my little queen to the steps, up and o
ut of the pool where the three ladies do the holy trinity kiss.

  Celia first, kissing Candy's left nipple, then her right, then stooping to press a kiss on her hairless clit. After they've done it, it's my turn, and I'm not as chaste as they are. Sucking her left nipple which is hard and pointed, I flick it under my tongue, cupping it when I release it, rubbing my thumb over the delicious nib when I suck her right nipple into my mouth, hungry for her body, for her life, for her allegiance.

  Kneeling in front of her taut stomach, I run my hands down her body possessively, feeling the soft skin that will one day carry my son. Just the thought of it gives me a boner and I stoop to suck her lady pearl, sliding my tongue around and over it, stimulating my erogenous sweetheart.

  When I stand again to look down at her, Celia offers me the heavy strand of black pearls I bought for Candace so many months ago. Securing it around her neck, forever a symbol of our fertility, a chain around her throat to expose her subjugation and obedience to me, as my possession, under my authority, chained in the symbol of slavery with a yoke around her neck, I tilt her chin up, saying, “Candace do you vow to be my wife, to never leave me, to never ever do anything that will jeopardize our unity or sanctity, do you promise to love and obey me, as long as you live?”

  Her pupils narrow dramatically, for the first time the meaning of marriage vows having context for her. Women vow it but they don't understand it, they don't realize that they promise to be under their man's authority for the duration of their existence. It is because the bible says you are only redeemed through me. I am made in god's image, and when you obey me you obey god.

  She nods. “Say it,” I coax, smiling at her, elation fizzing up inside me.

  “I promise.”

  Matthew sneers, “God's going to hold you to that, Candace. I now pronounce you one flesh and one spirit. Kenan, place the bracelet on her.”

  Celia smuggles the final item to me, and in front of Candace I unlock the Cartier Love bracelet, putting it on her right arm, locking it in place, keeping the key in my hand to put away safe and sound later. She examines the gold bracelet studded with diamonds and screws. “What is it?”