Taboo Unchained

by C. M. Stunich

  “I figured as much, asshole,” she says, standing up and disappearing inside. When she comes back, she has another glass of wine in one hand and a plate of bruschetta in the other. It's not exactly the perfect partner for the filet mignon I have waiting in the fridge, but I had to make do with what I had in the refrigerator. “I wasn't saying you had to fuck guys. I meant that I could. You could just, you know, help me figure out how you do it.”

  “Keep your voice down,” I growl, watching as Audra eats a piece of bread in two bites and proceeds to lick her fingers. There's something crude about her that I hate to admit that I almost … like. I like you. I cross my legs. Uncross them. “And if that's what you need advice on, I'll make it simple for you. Dick goes in vagina, end of story.” To my surprise, Audra laughs. Her voice is rich and deep and throaty, like black velvet wrapping around my cock. I want to fuck her again. Desperately. And that's the very reason that I can't.

  “I mean the whole darkness thing. How do you reign in the monsters? That's what I want to know.” She sips her wine and then holds up a finger, green eyes sparkling in the glow of the torches and the faded evening light. “And how you actually convince people they need you.”

  “The people I serve need no convincing.” Audra raises her eyebrow and swirls the liquid in her glass around. I hate that I notice how the green of her eyes matches the color of the grass.

  “Seriously? Lucas, come on. I know you're hot, but how do you get people to pay you what they pay you for sex? There's a gentlemen's club on Sixth Avenue with a whole butt load of hotties that cost a fraction of what Mrs. Braxton paid us.” I grit my teeth and try not to let my temper overwhelm me. It's been doing far too much of that lately. Or maybe it always has and I've just now noticed?

  “Speaking of Mrs. Braxton,” I begin, doing my best to change the subject. I'm not even going to entertain the idea of a partnership. “Have you seen her since yesterday?” Audra shrugs.

  “Not yet,” she says, taking another bite of bruschetta to her lips.

  “Yet?” I ask, but Audra's already switched her attention back to the previous subject.

  “Anyway, I could work with men, and you could continue with women, and we could grow this thing into an underground sensation. I know a lot of people that'd be willing to buy what you're selling.” I ignore the implied statement that I'm some sort of seedy merchant peddling inferior wares and tonics made out of sugar water and address the other issue with her proposal.

  “Men with darkness in them … They're not worth saving or treating.” I lean back in the chair and let my mind whisper across the faces of the men I've killed. How many has it been now? A dozen? Maybe more?

  “Wow. Reverse sexism, I like it.” Audra tries to smile, but the look doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I'm inclined to buy that, but why do you? What monsters are hiding in your closet?” Audra and I stare at one another for a while before she realizes that I'm not even close to spilling any of my secrets. “Okay, fine, I'll talk then.” Audra takes a big breath and smiles big, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It gets caught in a breeze and comes unhooked immediately, trailing over her cheek, her nose, her lips. “So where were we? Oh, yeah. My brother has a stand at the Farmers' Market. He sells corn mostly, sometimes tomatoes, the occasional basket of strawberries. All homegrown, you know?” Audra raises her left eyebrow. “But mostly it's a front for his other homegrown business.” She sighs and manages to keep the faux smile in place. “Yeah, he's a pot dealer, but not a pothead. Important distinction, right?” I don't respond. How can I when I see that this lighthearted tale is about to take a dive into the deep darkness of Audra's soul? She's about to reveal something to me. Why, I'm not sure, but I can practically smell it coming.

  Audra takes another deep breath before continuing.

  “Yeah, so, anyway … my brother sells corn and deals pot, and I've never held down a job for more than two months, but that's okay considering where we came from. At least, I think so.” I sip my wine slowly, watching as Audra's gaze goes blank again, just like it did at the market. “Remember how my mom left us? I think … she couldn't handle the abuse anymore. My father, he was one of these dark men you're talking about.”

  “Filth.” The word comes out in a hiss, startling Audra. I don't even realize I've spoken until it's out there, sitting in the air like a neon sign. Filth. Trash. Garbage. I can already see where this story is going and I don't like it. “He beat her, and he raped you, didn't he?” I don't mean to sound like I'm talking down to Audra. Truly, I feel for her, but the horror of the situation is so commonplace that it makes me sick to my stomach. I can hardly even stand to listen to another recount of it. That might make me selfish, but I've been there, too. I've done that.

  “Actually, you know, my dad … he was no fucking pedophile, right? He just made videos of me and my brother … doing things.” Audra pauses and pulls her legs up into the chair, sticking her fingers in her ears. “My mother couldn't stand to watch it happen, so she ran away. She left us … she left us there to deal with that for years.” When Audra starts to rock back and forth, my resolve breaks in half and I drop my wine glass to the table, moving towards her and taking her hands away from her ears.

  When my mouth finds hers, I feel guilty because sex has such a horribly negative connotation for us both, but it can also feel good. It's supposed to feel good. I don't have to tell her that my dad touched me, too. That he beat me. That our mothers are both worthless wisps of women who did nothing to protect the most important pieces of their hearts.

  Lucas Carter, what on earth are you doing? The beast, the one that didn't surface even when my father kicked open the door to my bedroom, the one that came about only as a corruption of the purest love I've ever felt, he asks me this question that I have no answer to. The only answer I know right now is the sound of Audra's demons howling back at me, writhing around me in a sea of black. Darkness follows darkness, but it can also be burned by light.

  Somehow, I get the feeling that I have two choices ahead of me and the decision to follow either or isn't going to be an easy one.

  Audra's mouth is hot against mine, burning the edges of my lips as I taste her, diving my tongue in deep. Her moans fill my throat and echo in my chest, making my heart beat faster, filling my cock with blood. My erection explodes from my pants as soon as I part the zipper and put my knees on the edge of the chair. Audra's hand finds me before I can find her pussy, grabbing tight and holding on with a shaking hand that glides along my skin.

  We're both so wrapped in darkness that I don't think we realize how much noise we're making, the grunts and moans and whispers of animals. The sounds that I always refuse to make burst from my throat like blood, splattering into the peaceful quiet of a suburban evening.

  “I want to see your bedroom,” Audra tells me, and even though the thought makes my insides quiver, I decide to oblige her. And not because she's beautiful or because she has my dick clenched tight in her fingers, not because I feel sorry for her, but because our darkness calls to one another. There's a resonance there that I don't quite understand but that I enjoy far too much to deny. The beast needs sustenance and Audra is offering it freely. What is there to debate?

  I gently untangle her fingers from around me and reach my arms beneath her warm body, lifting her off the lawn chair with almost no effort. I am still Lucas Carter, after all.

  “Wow. You're not going to slap me? Cuss me out? Slam me into a wall?”

  “Don't push your luck,” I whisper, that strangely comforting rumble of anger in my chest.

  “You'll tell me your story, won't you, Lucas?” Audra asks, nibbling my ear as I move down the hallway and into the same bedroom I shared with Robbie earlier. No, we didn't have sex, but the emotions are still there, clinging to the sheets like ghosts. I feel a frown caress my face, but then Audra's biting my neck hard. Hard. Harder.

  “You feisty little bitch.” I toss Audra onto the bed, enjoying the gentle bounce and sway of her breast
s as she comes to a tumbling stop atop the black and white duvet cover. If we're going to do this, really and properly do this, it can't be vanilla. Audra and I are way beyond that.

  I slip off my white button up, watching as Audra slips her panties down her legs and kicks them from the bed, the lacy scrap hanging from the end of her high heel like an invitation.

  “And here I thought you'd never been taught proper hygiene. Bravo, Miss Holiday.” My shirt drops to the floor, followed by shoes and socks, my pants. Audra gives me a look, leaning back on my pillows and spreading her legs wide, unashamed of what's between them.

  “How often do you wear underwear, Mr. Carter? Obviously it's not a daily habit for you to slip into a pair of tighty-whities.”

  “Hmm.” I let my lips curl into a smirk before kneeling down and retrieving a black box from beneath my bed. “Miss Holiday,” I begin as I open the box and peer at the contents inside. My personal violet wand kit smiles up at me, brand new and entirely unused. I ordered it on a whim before Isadora and I got married, thinking perhaps we could use it together someday. What a silly sentiment that was. As things stand, I'm quite certain Audra Holiday will be more than happy to oblige this particular fetish. “Tell me, what's your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

  “Ice cream?” Audra asks, sitting up and crawling down the bed to peer over the edge at my kit. When she sees what I have, her smile turns into a grin. “Well, I can tell you it's definitely not vanilla.” The laughter that slides from my throat soothes even me. Lucas, don't forget that this woman forced you into this meeting. She isn't a client. Not a client. She will never be a client. I ignore the beast, certain that he'll like what I'm about to offer him up anyway. “If I had to choose, I guess I'd say green tea ice cream. It's … exotic without being snobby, if that makes any sense.”

  “If at any time tonight either one of us has a problem with what's going on, green tea will act as our safety word.” I remove the violet wand – which actually isn't violet at all, but black – along with the body contact cable. I hook the two pieces together and move over to the side of the bed, plugging the device into the outlet on the back of my mahogany nightstand. “As long as you're certain it's not something you'll shout out by accident?” This time it's Audra turn to laugh.

  “Wow, so you do have a sense of humor then?” Her words give me pause, drawing my mind right back around to Roberta Carrell. See, you do have a sense of humor in there somewhere. But if I think of Robbie, I won't be able to even look at Audra Holiday, so I push the image of her smiling face away from my mind and focus on the situation at hand. Robbie is not an option for anything – friend, confidante, business partner. She can't be in my life for a multitude of reasons, so there's no point in entertaining those thoughts. “No, I don't believe I'll be screaming ice cream flavors in the throes of passion, but then, you never know, right?” Audra winks at me, turning around on her knees so that her back is facing me. “Unzip me, please?” she asks with a coy glance over her shoulder, puffing out her lower lip and fluttering her long lashes.

  I take the metal zipper in my fingers and slide it slowly, oh so slowly, down her back, savoring the sweet break of the fabric as it slips apart and reveals creamy white flesh beneath.

  “Like fresh milk,” I whisper, bending down and pressing my mouth against the nape of Audra's neck. After a brief moment's hesitation, I grate my teeth along her skin and then run my tongue up to her ear, biting hard on her lobe. “Or cream.” I breath against her hair, letting her shiver and quake against me. My fingers trace the open line of the zipper as I bite the upper part of her ear and feel a tightening in my chest at the sound of her moan. “Or even … vanilla ice cream.” I chuckle and Audra shivers. “Good enough to eat.”

  “Oh, please do,” Audra whispers back, letting her head fall back and giving me access to her throat. I start with gentle kisses, increasing the pressure and tension until her fingers curl into the bedspread. When I bite down, it isn't gentle, and Audra jerks back, collapsing to her side on the bed like she's been paralyzed. “Don't leave me without an orgasm this time, Lucas. I am warning you right now. I will green tea the fuck out of that.” I grin, the expression a shade different from my usual … less angry, more controlled. Interesting. Perhaps I really wasn't as collected and well-mannered as I'd thought? I strip Audra of her golden dress and find a strapless bra underneath.

  “By the time I'm finished with you, your worry won't be orgasming. It will be how to stop orgasming.”

  “Oh, please,” she snorts, but she doesn't stop me from undoing her bra and finding her nipples with my mouth. I use my teeth on these, too, drawing the pink flesh into hardened points that I tease mercilessly, ignoring Audra's lower half and keeping her hands away from my crotch. “Asshole,” she murmurs as I pull away and retrieve the violent wand. The name comes not from the color but from the glass attachments that can be fitted into the end. The gas inside makes them glow with a purple color that's almost otherworldly. But that's not what we're using right now. I have other plans in mind.

  I toss the wand onto the bed and grab a pair of underwear from my dresser, black briefs that Audra Holiday's eyes follow like they're possessed. I slide them on and snap the waistband into place, well aware of the effect the motion is having on my guest. I can't help the smirk that glides into place atop my lips.

  “Dear God,” Audra Holiday says, her arms crossed over her chest, her legs bent just so, enough that I can't see anything naughty in her stance. She looks like a fiery haired Goddess, but I'll be damned if I speak those words aloud. “You are so full of yourself, it's infectious. I almost want to believe you're as hot as you think you are.”

  “Such bravado,” I say as I grab the end of the body contact cable and tuck it inside the waistband on my underwear. When I step on the foot switch, a small black pedal as innocuous as those found on the cords of sewing machines, a buzzing sound emanates from the cable. “How … electric,” I whisper as I crawl onto the bed and hover my fingers over Audra's belly.

  Neon purple flickers dance from my fingertips to Audra's skin, arching her back and drowning the room in a pleasured sigh.

  “How … original,” Audra gasps as I draw my hand back and move my fingers to the soft skin of her inner thighs. She opens for me like a flower, spreading herself wide and relaxing completely into the cushion of my bed. Trust. There's trust here even though I'm not sure why. The call and answer of our demons? The shared experience of darkness? But it doesn't matter. A good bottom always trusts their top. Otherwise, what's the point? I decide not to question my good fortune and dive right in.

  “If you still have the energy to be sarcastic, then I'm not doing my job.” Without waiting for a response, I splay my hands open on either of Audra's thighs, letting the sparks of electricity slide into her body and curl up her spine. My mouth drops to the patch of red curls, Audra's deliciously wet little sweet spot. If you've never tried oral sex with a violet wand, well then, you're just not living.

  I stretch my tongue out, letting the electricity flicker across Audra's cunt.

  “Lucas!” The scream breaks into the room, driving my beast into a frenzy. Purple sparks arc from my mouth and onto Audra's body, teasing her clit into a stiffened point. Her fingers dig into the bed, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling with an expression mirroring religious fervor. Only this is better. This, this is real. I draw back from Audra with another smirk, enjoying the fear that flickers across her eyes as I hit the foot switch and shut off the electricity. Fear implies there's something left to lose. This moment, these sensations, they're worth that fear. I drop my hand to my cock and stroke gently along the length, enjoying Audra's expression. “Lucas,” she repeats again, her voice much lower, much darker this time.

  “Yes, Miss Holiday?” I ask, slipping the body contact cable from my waistband. I feel … different today than I have in a long time. Right now, it's not my client's wishes that are controlling me. In fact, right now, nobody is controlling me. Audra and I are
choosing our own destiny. I'd forgotten how heady it was to be in charge, actually in charge, of my own sexual desires. My monsters kick and scream and flail, but they don't try to take over, not this time. In satisfying my own desperate hunger for the taboo, I'm satisfying them as well.

  “What are you up to over there?” I grab a wooden chest and slide it across the wood floor near the end of the bed. Inside this box, buried beneath the most ordinary cotton sheets, is a treasure trove of odds and ends, tools of the taboo I've never used on another human being. Inside this box, these toys, they're mine. I toss the sheets to the floor in a messy heap that spikes my OCD, but can't manage to break through the trance I've been lured into.

  “Forgive me, Miss Holiday, but it's been awhile since I've been able to select the instruments of my own demise.”

  “You meant the instruments of my torture?” Audra asks, sliding off the bed and onto the floor. She crawls over to my stereo and rubs her thumb across the screen on my MP3 player. After just a few seconds of searching, she settles on Down with the Sickness by Disturbed. Ah, one of my longtime favorites.

  “Excellent choice, Miss Holiday.”

  “I thought I told you to call me Audra,” she says, slinking up behind me and wrapping her sweaty, naked body against mine. Instead of reacting with disgust, as I usually do, the primal feel and smell of her turns me on, creating a rather painful conundrum inside my briefs. “If you don't start doing it now, I might have to go all green tea on your ass.” Audra's tongue slides up the side of my neck at the same time her hands drift down my stomach, fingers tracing across the ab muscles I work so hard for. When she dips inside my waistband and finds my cock, I don't protest.

  “Well, Audra,” I purr, enjoying the soft slide of her fingers down my shaft. “I think there's a month's worth of experimentation in this box, so take your pick.” I drop metal handcuffs on the floor next to my knees, a knife inside a leather sheath, a whip, several silicone cocks – or dildos if you must – a vibrator, a ball gag, face masks made of leather, chastity belts for men and women, lube, condoms. Essentially an entire sex shop unfolds in miniature across my bedroom floor.