Stigmata

by L M Adams

  He slides in so easily, perfectly – he’s always a perfect fit. Long enough to be deep, thick enough to rub my walls and tease my g-spot. The goddess made him perfect for pleasure, from his face to his tongue, to his fingers and his cock.

  It is said the vampires come from the lineage of Lilith – that she laid with the first Blood King – Adamah, in the ocean of blood. It is said that she would not kneel for him – that she would kneel for no man. Not Adam, not Azazael, not any of them at all, but she would ride them into damnation and destroy their souls with the power of her wicked pussy.

  I look down at my lover’s face, caught in horrid rapture as I use my power to caress every one of his chakras at once. From Sahasrara to Muladhara I claim him… I use him for all that he is. He is the one that can handle all of me, the only one who has known of my horrifying powers and risen with their heart and mind still intact. I can do this with no human, no other man or woman, no other vampire – I cannot even be sure it would be safe with Lucien. But with Jack… I get to be me. For he is the Blood King to my Blood Queen, he is the Adamah to my Lilith, and we could birth a legion – if he only had a soul.

  My power rolls over his flesh… manifesting as blackish purple cloud again. It pours from my pelvis – from my Sacral. Like a fog rolling over the deep dark ocean it rolls over his flesh.

  The world ceases to exist, everything but he and I and the sound of a beast fucking a man to death.

  The black-purple cloud rolls up his body and pours into his mouth, open on a scream of pleasure and pain twisted in a perfect symphony of rapture. I watch my power consume the man I love. His flesh begins glowing with my power, purple light trapped in alabaster skin. I do more than fuck his body – I fuck his soul. And much like I shall never find another him he shall never find another me.

  “Release it!” Someone from somewhere roars and I look up to see the cloud has done more than consume my lover… it seeks to claim the entire room, building… perhaps the world.

  I throw back my head and think upon all that know of me, all that smell and drink my power. I feel their heartbeats fluttering like butterfly wings – I see their pleasure as they fall upon one another, searching for skin, searching for warmth in fear of the cold night. I watch them searching for life. For what makes you remember you exist like the crowning of an orgasm? What can make you feel more connected than another’s naked flesh upon your own? What can give you more purpose than a man wrapping you in his arms and yelling to the gods above that he loves you?

  “Jaevia, feed!” I come back to myself with Jack screaming for me to feed.

  “Baby I love you, but you must feed!”

  And I’m not sure if he means the lust or on his blood, and in the next moment I remember that I don’t have to choose. He gives me everything I could ever want; he knows how to placate a Goddess – give her power… worship her.

  I lean over him, he turns his head, giving me his glowing neck in offering and I feel my fangs come down. I strike fast and true and fix my mouth over the two small puncture wounds. His blood rolls over my tongue delicious and sweet – no other’s blood compares. Lucien’s is good… really good. But Jack’s tastes of evil deeds and delightful sins, it tastes of the secrets in the darkness, those secrets we deny. It tastes of pain and sadness and the pleasure we take in those things, because although almost no one commits suicide, almost all of us self-harm in one way or another. We like our pain neat and tidy; we like our tears and our sadness; we like our heartache – because it reminds us that we’re still alive – even after the happiness of our lives fades to dust, pain never lets us down.

  I call my power back to me and it brings with me the energy of those orgasms, that life force taken between breaths of pleasure. I taste every orgasm that’s been had tonight, and I know of divinity… and that divinity is… me.

  “That’s it,” Jack whispers soothingly. “Shh, Jae, we all serve you. Have your fill, my love.”

  I moan and drink deeper of him, I drink until I’m drunk on his blood, my lust, and the lust of everyone here…. Everyone but Carter and my stuffed little piggy.

  The world puts itself back together again slowly and I lift from Jack’s neck. I’m sure I look ghoulish, my mouth covered in blood, my hair crackling with purple electricity. My body oozes with power.

  “Fuck,” Jack whispers as I get up from his soft cock.

  I walk a bit drunkenly over to Carter and my stuffed little piggy. He’s hanging in the chains now, weeping as he’s fucked. My large hybrid man-wolf is hunched over, stuffing my little piggy again and again with his horrid barbed cock. His wolf pelt so thick, rubbing the quivering flesh of his victim so gently – such softness on your flesh as your insides are torn apart… even that I remember. Carter never stopped, never gave a reprieve and the adrenaline we pumped Mr. Stewart full of is keeping him from passing out.

  “I don’t hear you begging,” I grind out and grab a fistful of his sweat soaked hair, yanking his pitiful head back.

  Carter throws back his head and howls with pleasure as he picks up the speed. He grips the chains tightly with those dangerously clawed fingers and gives our piggy more cock than he can handle I do so believe.

  His scream is shrill as we bring him back to the horror in full living color. “Pl…pl…. pleaseeeeese,” our piggy stutters… drooling from his mouth.

  “Apologize to me,” I whisper as I reach for his sorry little cock and balls.

  “I’m sorry,” his bottom lip trembles, his eyes bloodshot red… he’s done, absolutely done. “Please, I’m so sorry, my Queen, please make it feel good again, please make it stop hurting.”

  “If you come, you’re his for the rest of the night.”

  “Don’t! I’m sorry, please I’m sorry! I’ll never speak against you again.”

  I know in truth he’s sorry, that he’ll never stand against me again… but that doesn’t keep me from making him come as he cries for me to stop… nothing keeps me from being as evil as I want to be – because when you party with monsters, there’s no one to tell you no.

  12

  Jaevia

  I leave Carter with his toy, unbinding him as well, giving him orders to enjoy the man – or what’s left of him, but to not kill him. Killing him at this point would be a mercy, and I’m not in a merciful mood. I want him to live like I live, in horror. I want him to remember every bit like I do. I want him to have to fight his way out of that darkness like I did… and then I want him to have the guts to stand naked and exposed in front of the world and let them call him names as he tries to save them from doom. I want him to be half the woman I am.

  And if he can’t? Well, the world will get on without him I’m sure.

  Jack and Frank get me to a hummer – another truck with other guards is tailing us as our extra security. Standard operating procedure, I’m not in public without at least four guards… sorry to say I don’t even know all of them anymore. I know their faces and their names, because I need to know who to trust… but I don’t know them. Not like I know Frank and how disappointed he is in me right now, even if he’s so good at hiding it.

  Frank and Jack are quiet as we pull off, leaving the debauchery of Kiss behind – Némion and Dem have every intention on keeping the party going. To be honest, I could go longer… but Jack’s done, Frank’s been done… and I want to get home to Luey.

  We ride in a deafening silence back to the warehouse. If I don’t initiate conversation, I know neither of them will, I simply don’t have any small talk readily available after doing what I just did. What on earth would we talk about right now? The weather?

  Goddess knows it feels good when I let go like that – better than anything. But I know it also proves everyone’s point. I truly am a monster. Even worse, I’m more comfortable with that than I’ve ever been before.

  I don’t know when that happened; it wasn’t all at once; it was bit by bit. I can’t be entirely sure the change in my view of the world, in who I really was, didn’t begin to morph
when I swallowed Sheba’s soul. But I know I’ve changed; I know it, and I just can’t find a reason to care anymore.

  Perhaps I’ve just reached peak self-acceptance.

  The warehouse is quiet, even the news reporters and fake paparazzi have finally found something better to do in the midnight hours. If they only knew what I’d just come from doing.

  It may be dangerous to leave Mr. Stewart with his memories intact. But what about me don’t they know at this point already? They know I’m the monster in the dark. If Mr. Stewart wishes to file a complaint so be it. I wish Peter would show up at my door; I fucking dare him to.

  No; more than likely, even if Mr. Stewart goes to the CNAE, Bishop and Peter will brush it all neatly under the rug. Because the only other option would be to confront me, and I doubt they’re ready for that kind of trouble.

  Frank parks in front of the dark warehouse and Jack gets out to help me.

  I’m drunk and high on power, the edges of reality seem sticky and out of focus. Jack carries me into the house and up the stairs to our bathroom… I don’t have shoes on, I don’t know where my shoes are really.

  He sets me down in the chair near the large jacuzzi tub. The bathroom is opulent, much like the rest of the ‘queen suite’ in the warehouse. Black marble with silver and white inlay. Silver accents and a large vanity double sink and mirror. Standalone shower, silver rack shelves full of fresh fluffy towels, bath oils, soaps and the such along the far wall – along with our various laundry hampers.

  I haven’t washed a load of clothes or folded a single thing in weeks… maybe months. Between Jack and Dani everything that makes life run is taken care of.

  Jack turns to the tub and begins running me a bath, he’s quiet and subdued yet graceful with every movement. The way he tilts his head, the way his hands move between one task and the next. Serving others runs in his blood. Yet I can also see the tight corner of his lips, how his eyes don’t meet mine, the tension in his shoulders.

  “You’re mad at me,” I whisper, trying to fight my way out of my high and drunken state.

  “Never,” he shakes his head and goes to select a bath oil.

  More than likely it will be one of Kitty’s mixes, something to help me relax, something to help me become… manageable.

  I feel his discourse in the link, a sadness… or better described, a disappointment.

  “Why do I feel your sadness then?”

  He sighs, “I’m always sad, Jaevia. I’m not fun… not like… others.” He pours the oil in the bath and also adds a bath bomb to frizz in the water.

  “Like who?” I ask not understanding who he’s comparing himself to… Lucien isn’t exactly the life of a party.

  He urges me to stand up as he begins undressing me, “Like other vampires.”

  “Is this because I like going to Kiss? You don’t want me to go there?” I ask, still not really understanding what has him so upset.

  He finishes undressing me and helps me into the water. I sit down in the magical concoction and feel everything I’ve ever cared about get melted away like candle wax.

  “I would never presume to tell a Queen where she can and cannot go.”

  “I’m not a queen, I’m just your fiancé… and I want you to talk to me.”

  He grabs a body sponge and dips it into the water taking a knee beside the tub, “We can talk about whatever you’d like.”

  “Why are you being like this?”

  “Like what?” He begins at my feet, soaping the sponge and lifting my leg from the water to wash them one by one.

  “All…” I sigh frustrated, finding it hard to describe his behavior, “… extra submissive.”

  He sighs as begins working on my legs, “you just ran your raw power through me, a massive amount of it… and now you are asking why I am being submissive?” He finally looks at me with a very flippant expression.

  “But something is bothering you and you’re not talking to me about it. It’s not about my power… we both know it’s not.”

  “I just,” he stops.

  “Tell me…”

  “I wish you hadn’t done that in front of Demetri.”

  “You’re embarrassed that we had sex in front of him? We’ve done that before.”

  “No!” He snaps, and sighs seeming to calm himself… “I’m embarrassed that he saw me like that so… so fucking needy. Needing… wishing I was… wishing that someone would rape me… he’ll use it against me.”

  “He had no idea what you were thinking, Jack, or what you were feeling and even if he did, I don’t think he’ll use it against you – you don’t give him enough credit.”

  He huffs and turns back to giving me my bath, “And you don’t know him like I do.”

  “Do you want me to stop being friends with him…?” I lead.

  “No, I want you to be happy. And if you want to be friends with that horrid creature – fine. But I don’t want to be friendly with him.”

  “No one is asking you to.”

  “You are.”

  “How?!” I ask getting agitated. “You’re the one that introduced us, you’re the one that suggested using his crows as security, you’re the one that suggested he and his people make use of Kiss, you’re the one that fronted Némion the cash to build the fucking place!”

  “I know!”

  “So what’s the fucking problem?”

  His hand squeezes the sponge tightly, making a fist around it, the water and suds spilling into the water… frozen.

  He turns to look at me, tears in his eyes… tears he’s trying not to cry, “Do you love me?”

  My brow wrinkles with confusion… “you know that I do – we’re about to get married… you have to know that…”

  “Because it doesn’t feel like you do when we’re there.”

  “At Kiss?”

  He nods curtly.

  I sigh and relax in the bath, “I admit, I let my succubus free when we go there. I let myself fall into it… I know that I’m different when I feed like that. But it never should make you feel like I don’t love you. I can stop going…”

  “No, you need a way to express yourself, all parts of yourself and Kiss is the safe way to do that.”

  “So tell me what you want me to do to make you happy here, Jack. Just tell me.”

  “I don’t know.”

  And there’s not much I can do with that. He wants me to go to Kiss, but he hates it when I’m there. What in the hell am I supposed to do?

  I sigh, “Jack, if you want me to stop being friends with Demetri…”

  “No,” he stares at me intently, “No Jae, if you’re happy, if he entertains you, please don’t – not on my account.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  He finishes bathing me and gets me into bed to massage my body with Lucien’s oils. Our future husband got called away to fix some plumbing issue at one of the houses at the top of the driveway.

  The houses we purchased and remodeled are already mostly filled. All with refugees from Ra’suá. Mostly Bâtardi that decided not to go back to Ra’suá when the Kindred shut down the portals. A lot of them don’t know how to navigate human earth – not on a long-term basis anyway; so right now we’re providing them with housing to let them adjust, hopefully help them find jobs and assimilate into the more or less human population.

  It also means that Luey gets called away to fix tenant problems at odd times. He’s the Eventide Council’s handyman… a demi-god of legend, with unlimited power and strength who fixes toilets on the side. The truly absurd part of it – he loves the work, never seems bothered when he has to drop whatever to go fix something. But then Luey has always liked feeling useful.

  Between Kitty’s bath mix, Lucien’s oils, and Jack’s hands… the stress of the day becomes a non fucking factor. When Jack turns me over to work on my breasts, sides and stomach, he uses his tongue as much as his hands to caress my flesh. He works his way down until his head is between my thighs.r />
  “I’m sorry for my behavior, my Queen,” he whispers before lowering his lips to my lower lips, parting the plump bits of flesh with his tongue to find my clit.

  I moan with pleasure as he sucks and flicks the sensitive bud of nerves with his tongue. Jack’s always been good at giving head, in fact, I can’t think of one thing he does badly when it comes to the erotic arts. He is the culmination of decades of training and being beaten if he displeased.

  The goddess made him perfect for me. By design or by mistake… who knows? Who cares?

  Whatever our problems, we always do well with this part. And perhaps that’s a flimsy foundation to build a marriage on… if you’re anything other than a succubus. I feed on sex and what better partner could I have than a man who is an expert at fucking?

  The darkness of sleep claims me as I come, my body still full of stolen blood and magic, my synapses still heavy and laden with the energy of the night and the screams of a man who displeased me. This world just may end up destroying me – but what a fucking way to go.

  13

  Jaevia

  “Jae, baby…” a voice tries to pull me from my sleep “…get up, your mother will be here soon. We need to meet the planner and you have another fitting for your dress.” Jack says sternly and gently at the same time.

  “I don’t wanna,” I groan low and snuggle under the covers further.

  “No one told you to go off the deep end last night and I’m not rearranging our plans because you don’t know when to say enough.”

  “God, you’re a pest!” I shout angrily from my cocoon. I snuggle back further but I can’t find the heat of Lucien. Jack must have already pestered him into getting up.

  I’m hungover, but not from alcohol, just from the pure power I drank in, from the magic I indulged in. Running so many different kinds of magic through your system can burn out your synapses. Add in the fact that most of it wasn’t even something I could feed from… the copious amount of bloodwine I drank is enough to make a vampire’s head ring, throw in the torture and feeding on lust? Jaevia Knightley is going to have a bad day.