by L M Adams
Purple lightning lights up in her eyes, ready to strike me down.
“I have no wish to burden you…”
“It isn’t a burden. I’m married to you both. If something isn’t working, it affects me.”
I nod.
“So do not say it is not my concern.”
“Yes, Wench,” I whisper curtailed. I do not like it when the Wench is cross with me, it turns my insides to knots of anxiety.
“I told you not to have sex with him, I told you to wait until he worked out his issues with his father. You chose not to listen to me. So if you have to deal with him having a bad attitude it’s your own damn fault.”
“Yes, Jaevia.” Please stop being angry with me.
Her features soften, “But if you aren’t comfortable having sex with him you don’t have to. You were right, your body, your limits.”
“I wish him, I wish him much. I do not wish for the pain.”
“I’m not sure there’s a way to have one without the other when it comes to Jack.”
“There must be some way,” because my heart wishes what my heart wishes.
“I hope you find it,” she steps closer and wraps her small arms around me, letting me know she is not cross with me anymore.
I feel myself relax. It hurts when the Wench is cross with me. I spent most of my growing years hurting because she hated me so much… I was starved for her love and it made me so angry inside.
Everyone else would get her smiles and laughter and her pets… Tabari and Peterus, mostly. Yet I would get nothing when I have always loved her most.
She pulls back and I cannot help it, I bend to taste her lips, needing her too much to resist her vixen call. She opens her mouth like a good wench and lets me taste her lemon honey. I feel her fingers digging into my hair, her passions rising to meet my own.
I growl low reaching down to my britches to unlace them and free my rod so I can sink it into her. I will be getting my loins tended to today.
She tries to pull back, I lift her dress and pick her wicked ass up. Not going to make me want her, play her games and then not get a kitten full of cock. She wraps her arms around my neck, and her thighs around my waist as I walk her back to a tree to fuck her up against.
She moans into my mouth when give her the tip, I break the kiss growling, “I need you, Wench.”
“You have me, yes, Luey…. You have me.”
“Say please! Tell me you want me!”
“Please, Luey, I want you. Yes baby, I want you.”
I give her a little more, “You don’t mean it,” I pull a little out.
“Please!” She screams and I surge into her, burying myself to the hilt inside of warm, wet, tight little pussy.
I grip her thigh tightly, trying to reign in my passions, she must come first… she is my Queen, she must always come first… she loves me, she cares for me, she kisses me and gives me pets and lets me love her without hurting her first…
My heart is open, and I feel the sadness of the Bloodsucker, it crawls along my skin like a poison hellbent on destroying me.
“Make him love me,” I beg her.
“Shh,” she pets me gently, trying to settle my heart.
I need to feel good; I am tired of hurting for their love and I need to feel good. My body is not my own as I sink myself into her warmth again and again.
“Yes, Luey,” she moans.
I nuzzle her neck; she turns her head so that I can get to my mark. It smells of me, it tastes of me. She is mine… mine… mine… mine, fucking mine!
She screams as I fuck her harder and faster. Hurt! You evil bitch! Hurt like you hurt me! Always hurting me!
Her wicked little pussy spasms around me, coming without a bit of permission.
“You will pay for that,” I growl low.
“Yes, Luey,” she whimpers, and I release my passions into her with a groan filling her womb with my seed, leaving my scent for any that would think she is not owned from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet and every evil inch between.
90
Lucien – Jabari
Servants of Isis bring us a midday meal. We sit outside on the patio at the large stone table under the white canopy.
The Wench squirms in her seat trying to find a comfortable position. I took a switch to her for coming without permission, she’s also still filled with my seed. I like knowing she’s sitting with a kitten full of my love and a sore bottom. I like it much.
The Bloodsucker is in a sour mood ruining what would otherwise be a nice afternoon. I want him to be filled with me and a sore bottom as well. But I’d have to rape him to have that, and I shall not.
“Fix your attitude or you’ll get a beating next.” I grumble low and pour myself a glass of Zobo juice.
“And how would you like me to behave, Master?” He asks it very disrespectfully.
“For one, stop pushing around your food, you are not eating, do we need another lesson about taking care of yourself?”
He turns his head away, bowing it, “No, Master.”
I huff, “Eat… more meat.”
He takes the other half of the flaky dark bread and a few cuts of meat. I feel his sadness, his anger, I feel it all… and I wish it was not so.
“We will find out more about your people, Capaneus. Perhaps things are not what you believe.”
“I don’t really care anymore.”
I stand, “Fine. Do whatever you wish you ill-tempered man-child.”
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck me? You don’t deserve it,” I smile mockingly, thinking of my dick in his rose while he cries… I think about it hard enough to project the image into our link.
He picks up the knife used for cutting the meat and throws it. His mark is good and true, and it sinks into my chest just to the right of my heart.
“Jack!”
I like the burn of it.
My lips pull back from my teeth as I growl low and pull the blade from my flesh… the wound healing between one thought and the next. I slam the bloody blade down and march around to his side of the table, I don’t need a weapon to take him in hand. The Wench jumps up, getting between us.
“No, Luey!”
“He just stabbed me!” I roar.
The Bloodsucker gets up, not seeming concerned about my anger at all, “Don’t stop him, fuck him.”
“He wants this, Lucien,” the Wench whispers and I realize I was falling right into his trap.
“Forked tongue devil!”
“And it still remembers the honeyed taste of your asshole while you begged me to stop.”
“I will end you!” I push forward and Jaevia puts a hand on my chest, pushing me back.
“I will take you with me,” the Bloodsucker promises darkly.
“Stop!” the Wench roars and her power floods the patio, “I promise I will punish you both if you fight. I promise you; no one will enjoy it.”
Her power is thick on the air, clawing at my insides, raising the heat of my curse. I cannot block her magic as well as I once could. Before I received my Stigmata, I was in control… I could decide if I wished to let her in…. now that control is gone, and I have no choice if the Wench wishes to drive me crazy with her lusts.
My chest rises and falls faster and faster, wanting nothing but to bend them both over this table and make them submit!
Make them love me as I love their wretched souls.
“Lucien, go cool off,” but she is Queen.
“Fine,” I growl and turn away.
I wish to hurt something… murder something. I need to release this energy. I have been holding on to my temper for long enough!
The beast inside of me wishes blood, I grab my sword from the table in the receiving room and go to find something to kill… something always needs killing.
It is easy enough for me to find out where the soldiers train. As I make my way through the halls of my father’s palace; I notice the way people stare at me. I have no wish to be looked upon
. I’m hurting and angry, I have no wish for the attention of strangers.
The first floor of the Atums is full of the stories of all the children of Ra, not just Atum. There are stories of Horus, of Apedemak, Amun – the women scion like Sekhmet and Bastet… of even the dwarf god Bes. The protector of the mommas and the babies. The power of Ra takes many forms, but the only form my Capaneus wishes is the one that hurts him.
“Hari!”
I stop and turn at the sound of Nassor’s voice.
“Brother,” he smiles and catches up with me, the closer he gets to me, and senses my mood, the more his smile slips. “What is wrong?”
I huff, “My mates… the Bloodsucker more than the Wench.”
“Ah, married life.”
I huff if you can call this sickness I’m trapped in, marriage. “I have anger I need to rid myself of before I can return, orders from the Queen.”
“Looking for a fight?” He smiles.
I nod curtly.
“Then you have come to the right place.” He clasps my shoulder and walks with me the rest of the way to one of the training areas.
The door bears the sigil of the lion. Nassor pushes open the door and leads me to the enclosed square, an outside sandpit, the blue sky above us. All the walls are covered in a choice of weapons, swords, spears, lion claws. To the left is a set of benches where the men of Atum sit.
In the center is an older soldier giving a lesson… “Balance! Yes!” He widens his stance and slaps his thighs. He’s wearing only a black loincloth. His body, although scarred and old, is still strong. His long graying locs are braided back.
“Again!” He orders and the soldiers get up from the bench, pairing off, getting in a stance for grappling.
I know that voice…
“Jabari?” I whisper.
The strongest of my mother’s soldiers, the man who began my training as a young warrior… turns to me, his eyes wide… the right side of his face covered in the scars of being burned, not just his face, the entire right side of his body.
His dark skin no longer smooth, it seems to pull oddly as he moves, as if it didn’t heal right. Down the side of his face, neck… his chest and stomach, it ends at his thighs. The burns are old… yet not old enough at all.
“Jabari,” I feel lost as I look into his weathered eyes.
He walks over to me quickly, “Hari.”
I am too shocked by his appearance to react properly to his embrace.
He pulls back and grabs my shoulders, “Oh aye, you have grown – yes you have grown, young lion.” He seems proud, “If your mother could only see you now,” he nods.
I’m sure I look as confused as I feel… “Jabari?”
I look at his body, his flesh was not burned… it was melted.
“Me?” I ask in a voice that feels lost.
“No, my young lion, not you.”
“Who?”
“It is of no matter,” he squeezes my shoulders and lets them go, “what has happened has happened.”
“My father,” I whisper, knowing his rage must have been unimaginable when Jabari came to him and told him that his Zahra was dead, and their son was lost in time.
“No less than what I deserved, for failing the two of you.”
“No, Jabari… no…”
“Yes,” he nods, “we must live with our failures just as our triumphs.”
The rage I felt at Capaneus leaves me in the sight of this, because this is my power when I have no control. This is what I am capable of and I have no wish to be this… I have no wish for the majic of fire. By Ra, I have no wish for it to burn in my heart.
No good ever came from anger.
Nassor steps up beside me, “Hari has come to train.”
“Oh aye?” Jabari’s eyes brighten up.
“You still train the young sons?”
“My heart song is my heart song,” he smiles, seeming at peace with all that has happened. But, how could he? How could a man find peace after such things?
91
Lucien – The young son
Perhaps in my heart I will always be a young son. I have no wish to fight now, but Jabari seems so happy for the chance to see how I have progressed and if I have remembered his lessons.
I can no more deny his wish than I can keep the sun from burning in my heart. I get undressed, down to my britches. I even take off my boots, but I do not change into a loincloth like the others, the pants have enough give, to let me move well enough. My feet feel right as they touch the warm bare earth.
“You need to tie your hair back,” Nassor advises.
I huff, but he is right, it is getting overly long, if not for the Wench I would have cut it long ago.
“Do we have a challenger?!” Jabari asks as the other soldiers of Atum move out of the way.
“Looks like it’s me again,” Nassor grins and stands to take off his shirt.
“I will fight the lost lion.”
One of the soldiers says and steps forward. He’s a large beast, even larger than I.
I look into his face, it takes a moment, but I see another familiar face, “Ojore?”
“Lost lion,” he says with a snide towards me, disrespectfully.
“Can’t say his attitude has gotten any better over the years,” Nassor mutters to me. “But he is one of the strongest, if not for the fall of the beasts – he would have been made a high warrior.”
“What mantle? The pig?” I ask as I stand to face him, no fear in my heart.
“Kitty wants to scratch?” His lips curl back from his teeth. He’s shaved bald, his dark skin sweating and glistening. Large arms packed with muscle; all of his body is large.
Ojore has always been bigger than me… and always hated me. When we were children, he called me a cheat, said I only won because of my father’s power… he was right, but today he shall be wrong.
“First pin called for the winner,” Jabari says and steps back, letting Ojore and I face off in the center of the sandpit.
I hold out my arms, bending my elbows, spreading my legs and centering myself. I stoop low, one foot forward, the other behind. I relax my muscles, tensing before you are ready to attack tires your body, forces acids to build up into your muscles.
Wait Hari, wait – you have all the time in the world.
I remember Jabari tutoring me, I remember all of his lessons as Ojore and I circle one another, waiting for an opening, a misstep, waiting for the moment one of us rushes it… I’m smaller, I’m still smaller, I have to get him on his back, if he gets on top of me, I will be hard pressed to push him off.
“Here, kitty kitty,” he tries to anger me.
When I first arrived, it may have worked, but seeing Jabari reminded me of what my anger costs. It is a loss of control and I never wish to be that way. I have never wished to be like the men who killed my mother. I have never wished to be the kind of man that would burn a world down… but I am; I must be careful, always careful.
Ojore turns his head to look at the other soldiers, “The lion has lost his cla…”
I launch myself forward. I grab him behind his knees and lift him up. He falls back and I fall on top of him. The cheers erupt as I move quickly, turning him to his side and wrapping my arm around his neck. I grab his wrist and bring up his right arm, twisting his wrist in a painful combination joint lock and rolling both of us to our backs, wrapping my legs around his waist.
I flex my muscle, cutting off his air supply. The power, it feels good. The power to end a thing, to snuff out a life or allow it to live. My heart pounds in my chest, being lured by the sweet taste of my darkest sin – I liked burning the world to the ground.
“Now tap and say you’re sorry,” I growl as I bear down on him.
He tries to shake me loose, thrashing, trying to reach up with his free hand to grab hold of something. I press down on his windpipe harder. I am master here… I am King.
“Say you’re sorry!” I roar at him.
He taps the ground.
>
“Say it,” I whisper darkly.
“I’m sorry,” he squeals out like the pig he is.
“Master…”
“I’m sorry… Master.”
“Good boy.”
“Hari!” The crack of Henenu’s voice rings out, making my let go of Ojore.
I push the deadweight from me, he rolls to his front coughing, trying to catch the breath I took from him like the bitch he is. I stand up as Jabari comes over to check on Ojore, “You almost crushed his windpipe, Hari.” He looks up at me.
The others come to help Ojore to his feet. I glance at Nassor, he’s trying to hide his smile. I look to Henenu, he’s frowning with disappointment.
“I did not mean to truly damage him,” now feeling badly.
“You were always unaware of your strength, young lion,” Jabari says simply standing to face me.
“He is bigger than me, as he was when we were young sons.”
“Have you learned nothing of what you are? All strength is not naked to the eye.”
I frown because Jabari is right. Even if I do not use the majic of fire, I am still Apedemak’s son. I will always be stronger, faster, tougher than others. I am born of a god… I can never have a fair contest with humans, even if they are of the first people, “He will be okay?”
Jabari nods, “We shall tend to him.” He nods to Henenu, “your tutor has come to collect you.”
I sigh, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
He chuckles remembering how often I’d run to him to hide from Henenu and my majic lessons. “Do not fear, my Raja. I am here if ever you wish to train again, although… I do not believe there is much I can teach you still.”
I smile, “I do not believe that at all, honored Jabari,” I bow my head before going to grab my shirt, boots, and sword and joining Henenu.
92
Lucien – Son of Ra
Master Henenu waits patiently as I put on my boots and shirt before we leave the training area.
“Walk with me, Hari.”
I nod and follow Henenu. The old tutor is quiet as he walks, hands behind his back, his black thobe dusting the stone laid floors.
