Stigmata

by L M Adams

  I feel his hand wrap around my cock, my sack tightens with pleasure.

  “I’m sorry,” I whimper for him.

  “You don’t get to die, not until I give you permission, do you understand me?” His voice is almost soft, low… dangerous. He’s rubbing the tip of my cock with his thumb, spreading the precome, teasing my nerve endings ruthlessly as my body fights over which sensation is more important – the pain or the pleasure.

  “Yes, Master…”

  “Lucien!” He jerks my arm up harder and I let out a high-pitched squeal. “My name is Lucien.”

  “Yes… yes, Lucien.”

  “I will destroy every level of hell to drag your soul back to me, never doubt that.”

  I nod, my breathing ragged as he forces my body towards an orgasm of epic proportions.

  “I own you.”

  I nod.

  “Say it!”

  “Lucien owns me,” I whisper, this torrid mix of fear and need has laid claim to me… the way I needed it to.

  “You didn’t fight back; he didn’t make you… you gave yourself to him. That’s why I cannot have you in love – why I must have you by force.”

  “Yes!” I scream to the heavens above as my body quivers on the edge of a massive orgasm.

  “Beg,” he growls.

  “Please… please let me,” he strokes me how I like; he knows just how I like it.

  “Let you what?”

  “Come,” I cry out into him.

  He tightens his hand around my wrist, ready to shatter bone and turn it into dust.

  “Beg for what you need not for what you want.”

  I inhale the scent of him, my thoughts tumbling into the abyss.

  “Beg!”

  “Hurt me, destroy me, punish me for loving his filth… make me clean again for you. Make the sin go away…” I beg him with all of my heart, the only thing I’ve ever wished… make the sin just go away.

  His nose flairs, his eyes widen as he absorbs exactly what I need… and accepts it. I can feel the vibration from his chest against my flesh, “Now beg for what you want.”

  He twists as he strokes and my body is filled with overwhelming pleasure, I inhale sharply.

  “Please… please Lucien, let me come for you.”

  “Permission granted,” the pleasure explodes as he yanks my arm up, dislocating my shoulder at the same moment of my orgasm. The audible pop is chased by my blood-curdling scream as I come all over his hand.

  He grabs me by my other shoulder as he lets go of my ruined arm to hang useless by my side, my horrible sobs of pain rack my body as he pushes me down to my knees in front of him. My body and thoughts still fighting between the pleasure and pain, the entire world ceases to exist. There is no past, no future there is only this, and him, and now… my god he knows how to give it to me.

  There is no order as he pulls himself free and forces himself into my mouth, there are no words needed as he stuffs his massive cock into my mouth so I can cry around it in pain and in shame.

  I don’t suck his cock; he just holds my head tightly as he fucks my face. Peace washes over me, unending peace, my heart calms, my thoughts settle.

  “That’s what you need,” he moans. “I can give you what you need and what you want. I am your husband, not a single other.”

  He grinds into my mouth; I feel the thickness of him snag on my fangs and I moan with pleasure as the taste of his blood rolls over my tongue and down my throat.

  There is nothing but the sound of the surf hitting the beach and his dick fucking my mouth and I love it all, goddess help me – I love it.

  He grabs the base of his cock, so much of it just doesn’t fit inside my mouth, “I love you on your knees, Ra take me, I love having you like this. One day I will rape you, I give you my word… I will ruin you for all other men. Ra is my witness; I will ruin you to perfection.”

  His cock pulsates in my mouth as he comes, coating my tongue with the salt and honey taste of him to flavor his vow.

  When he’s done, he pulls from my mouth and gets to his knees in front of me, “Look at me.” He orders.

  I look up at him, tears in my eyes.

  “You have to pull your shit together for her,” he nods towards the house.

  I sniff and nod.

  “She deserves this, she deserves a happily ever after. We shall work on this, I promise you we shall figure this out… counseling, or maybe we’ll try other ways to please one another. It does not matter how we are together, as long as we are. We shall find a way to make this work, I need you to believe in me, in us… that we can have more than pain and filth.”

  “Okay,” I nod, “okay, Lucien – I’ll believe.”

  “I will give you this… I will learn how to love you in the ways you wish. But I need you to meet me halfway, do not be so ready to give into your despair, fight for me and I shall fight for you.”

  “You promise you’ll hurt me like I need? You promise you’ll rape me?”

  He nods, “I promise… as much as you want.”

  “It can’t always be your way; I need it my way sometimes.”

  “That is fair, Capaneus, that is more than fair.”

  “Thank you,” I exhale slowly. “And maybe…” I stop.

  “What? Whatever you need is yours.”

  “Maybe no more Daddy play anymore?”

  He nods, “Done.”

  I relax… maybe talking about this isn’t so bad, maybe it will help if I can really just be honest about how I feel and really work on separating what I felt with my stepfather and what I want to feel with Lucien.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  I nod.

  “Good, lets clean you up and go see to our queen.”

  He pushes my arm back in place, being as gentle as possible. I don’t mind the pain, not at all and the damage is healed by my next breath. We both go take a quick dip in the ocean and wash away the sand and the come and the sweat before heading back to the house. Pain has always helped me. For a moment, when Lucien first claimed me as his Chosen Consort, I thought I had changed… when I left the vampires behind, I thought I could stop hurting.

  But even without their sin, I have plenty of my own to atone for. He cracked open the obsidian glass – I can’t hide from it anymore. One day I’ll deserve the love Lucien offers… one day, if I hurt long and hard enough – I’ll be able to love him like he wishes… like I wish. But first I have to make atonement for those sins in the obsidian glass.

  58

  Jaevia – last night

  I turn from the patio counter/bar as my two men come walking up from the beach, looking calmer than they have been in days. Perhaps they finally found a balance between them. I can only hope and pray for it to be true. The energy in the link is smooth and easy for once.

  Lucien told me they made love. I’d advised them both against it. I tried to warn them off. They wouldn’t listen… and now it’s done… and now my beautiful vampire dreams of ending his life. They didn’t tell me – but a wife knows these things.

  It would be childish of me to say ‘I told you so’ – especially when it wouldn’t help anything. Neither of them wanted to talk to me about it and I hate being shut out. I know if I make it an order, they’d tell me, but I want them to feel like they can come to me. That they know I trust them and support them in their relationship.

  For now, I just try to be happy to have them and be supportive of them both through this difficult time. Part of me feels guilty, I love the two of them together… did my desire for them to fall in love, to make love – push them into this when they weren’t ready? My power is that seductive, that alluring… that devious.

  They both come over to give me a gentle kiss, Lucien first, but Jack presses his body to me, and I wrap my arms around him tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Jae,” Jack whispers softly.

  “It’s okay,” I murmur into him, not really sure why he’s apologizing but sensing this is important to him.

 
Is he apologizing for being him? For having a difficult time?

  “Please, Lucien,” he whispers and Lucien steps up, pressing himself into Jack’s back and encircling us both in his arms, giving Jack the safety he needs in that moment.

  “I love you both so fucking much,” Jack whispers, “I’m sorry I worried you. I’m sorry I’m having a hard time… but I need you both to know – you’re the most important thing in my life. And my failings are mine alone.”

  “We know you love us,” I try to reassure him. “You are not a failure, you’re just damaged. We love the damaged things, we love you.”

  “Above all others and for all time,” Lucien pledges, and Jack nods.

  The link of energy between us begins to burn with the power of the eventide. We are always more powerful when we are together, when we are one. I think we all knew that our marriage would be work, I’m just not so sure we knew how much work it would take.

  I pull back from the hug, “Are you okay?”

  He nods, “Just don’t give up on me.”

  Lucien huffs, “Oh aye Bloodsucker, there’s no getting rid of us now.”

  Because when Lucien promises for forever, he damn well means it.

  Jack’s been crying and he rushes to wipe the evidence away. But there’s no shame, there is no secret, no pain, no memory stronger than us.

  “You’re okay,” I try to encourage Jack, “you are safe and in control.”

  He nods, “I’m okay.” He tries to give me a smile… his expression changes when he looks over at the counter bar.

  “What are you doing?”

  I turn to look, “I was trying to make the coconut drinks.”

  “It looks like a bloody massacre,” he whispers absolutely horrified staring at my handwork. The white marble counter is splashed with red… pieces of mauled coconuts sit in chunks, coconut juice flows off the counter… mixing with my blood.

  “Yes well, using the saw to cut open the coconuts was harder than I thought… you made it look so easy.”

  “There’s blood and coconut everywhere,” He grabs my hands… of course they’re already healed.

  “You can slice up a man blindfolded, but you can’t cut open a coconut?” He actually seems alarmed.

  “I’ve never used an electric saw on a man either,” I say exasperated and snatch my hand away to go clean it up.

  “I’m sorry Jae, you were trying to make them for us?”

  I nod curtly and begin using a rag to wipe the chunks of coconut into the trash bin. “I was just trying to do something nice…” my gut tightens with shame and feelings of inadequacy… as if I can do nothing right. “Fuck!”

  “You’re drinking his emotions, Jaevia… amplifying them.” Lucien whispers.

  I close my eyes and work on separating myself from the link we share… I feel Jack pull back as well to spare me from some of it. But I wish he didn’t have to do that; I wish it wasn’t there in the first place. But wishes are a futile thing and berating him for feelings of inadequacy will only make it worse… I would know – some part of me will never feel worthy of love either.

  My thoughts cling to the familiar when they mingle in the link… to the ways we are most alike. Those ways are often steeped in pain and covered in scars.

  Jack takes the rag from my hand, “I’ll clean it up, and make us some drinks… how about you pick out a book to read… unless you want to do something else?”

  “No… no, that would be nice.”

  He kisses my temple before I go back into the house.

  While I’m inside I decide to put on a flowy white sundress made of soft spun cotton. I was covered in coconut. I also take a moment to get to my knees and pray to the goddess to give Jack peace.

  I’ve prayed for myself, more times than I can count, I’ve pleaded with the goddess to help me save them, to keep them with me when death crept too close. But now I get to my knees and pray for their peace and their happiness. Marrying them made them more mine, more my responsibility than I ever thought possible. I didn’t really think getting married would make things different, I was wrong.

  We split our souls and intertwined them, weaving them together in a beautifully horrid tapestry stitched with virtue and sin until our very beings were one; like some Frankenstein monster – made both ghastly and wonderful.

  I’ve channeled her being – Neoma’s… I will never forget her aching cold and the bounty of her love and so I make my litany simple… “Help him… please Goddess, help him in whatever way you can.”

  After my short prayer is done, I go to find a book… not really sure if she heard me, or how she could help him – I just hope that she does.

  With the mood of the recent days I decide to try and find something funny… I peruse the bookshelf until I find something that seems it may have a bit of outlandish humor – The Unlikely Tales of Balderdash Brown… “well the title is amusing.”

  When I go outside; I find Lucien and Jack working together to make dinner… kabobs. And what do you know? Lucien is very apt at stabbing meat.

  “Here you are, my queen,” Jack `hands me a coconut drink with the little fruit and umbrellas and everything.

  “Thank you,” I smile a bit shyly at him. He always takes such good care of me and hell, the Baby Girl in me likes it – even if some part of the old Jaevia would have slit her own wrists with that little saw rather than been seen as inept.

  “It will always be my pleasure,” he winks at me and I give him a bashful smile as I head to the barstool on the other side of the counter.

  “What did you pick, Wench?”

  I grin, “The Unlikely Tales of Balderdash Brown.”

  He nods, “I could do with a laugh… you start.”

  I read to them as they cook, between bouts of laughter that sometimes forces me to stop reading so I don’t laugh myself to death. The jokes are fucking horrible, but the prose is written with art.

  It’s the story of a fifty-year-old man, Bartholomew Brown, whose wife has just left him for his podiatrist of all things... Jack has to explain to us what a podiatrist is.

  Bartholomew falls into a depression, loses his job, goes bankrupt – everything just goes fucking wrong for this guy. He’s about to off himself and searches for the best way to go about it… he decides a bullet to the brain is the only honorable way to go. Only problem? He doesn’t have a gun. While he’s looking in the newspaper classifieds for a gun to buy, he runs across an ad for a second chance at life… RV living. On a complete whim he basically takes what money he has and buys that old shitty camper – figuring one can always kill themselves later… and with a better view to boot.

  He doesn’t have a plan in the world, a few hundred bucks and nothing to look forward to – or regret leaving behind.

  “… and perhaps the simplest truth I learned that day was that a man could survive going over Niagara Falls in a barrel – later to only be killed by slipping on an orange peel; life and death was just funny like that.”

  I finish the first couple of chapters as Jack takes the kabobs off the grill. We settle down in the outside living room in front of the fireplace. Lucien sits in the middle of the extra-large sofa, me curled up on his left with a plate in my lap – and after some urging, Jack laying out, resting his head on Lucien’s thigh… book in his hand.

  “Read,” Lucien grumbles low – wanting to distract Jack from the intimacy.

  Jack sighs and lifts the book, “…. Sadly I would find that the crappy camper was even crappier than previously believed – and at least three of the tires had more patching than tire settling me with the notion, that not only had the gods of love, money, and happiness forsaken me – but also the god of rubber… how in all of the seven hells had I ended up on his shit-list, I may never know. I perish the thought that burning my orthopedic shoes with the extra thick rubbery soles in effigy could have somehow angered the mighty Rubber God. Yet on the other hand I could not dissuade from the complete possibility that my dastardly podiatrist was not i
n fact in league with this cruel and powerful Rubber God. My podiatrist was after all the minion who prescribed the horrid shoes in the first place – and he obviously turned out to be a special breed of cunt... much like the Rubber God.”

  We lie around, we eat, we drink we read… we laugh… everything is as it should be, and I wonder again if perhaps we’ll be making a mistake by going back.

  I know Lucien bought that land for us… but maybe we don’t belong there. He hasn’t broken ground on the castle, maybe we could sell the land and the warehouse and just settle somewhere else. I know, not here, it’s too small for everyone… but somewhere like it… where the rest of the world simply ceases to exist, and the only monsters we have to battle are the ones in our own hearts.

  59

  Jaevia

  The Unlikely Tales of Balderdash Brown, isn’t a long book – we end up finishing it in only a couple of hours… the tale ends with Bartholomew learning that happiness wasn’t a place or a thing, but a willingness to experience life. In his travels the crappy camper often crapped out and he’d have to find an odd job to cover the costs of the repair, or he’d have to stay at a little bed-and-breakfast. The crappy camper forced him to get out and live again.

  Of course he ends up finding a lady love and decides to settle down and sell the camper with the same advertisement he’d seen – ‘A second chance at living,’ hoping the crappy camper would give another person their own second chance.

  Lucien urges us both inside to get a shower and settle down for the night… neither Jack nor I protest, although, it always feels like he’s coddling us. Perhaps it’s just his way… amplified by matrimony.

  No point in reminding him that Jack and I are more vampire than not, and we are night creatures. Sometimes you just have to let Lucien have his way.

  At least he stops short of tucking us into bed. He sits on the side of the bed and seems to be reflecting on something. Jack is spooning me tightly, needing flesh. None of us are wearing clothes – perhaps subconsciously Lucien and I are picking up on Jack’s need to have skin to skin contact tonight.