by Lucian Bane
He regarded his niece. "So explain yourself in English, girl. Lay it out for your Uncle and don't come with no cocktail of cock-eyed-confusion." He looked at us now. "Younguns these days don't know whether to check their asses or scratch their watches half the gawdamn time."
His niece slapped him on the shoulder and he shot out that laughter and patted her hand.
"Well, if this large public corporation is buying up funeral homes to clean money and hide their sexual exploitations, then my guess is, they wouldn't want to be buying up a funeral home running a chain of adult toy products. That would be the exact kind of thing they're looking to get away from." She grinned with several eager nods, beaming.
Again the man turned those eager burning eyes on us. "What do you all think? She have a dad-gum-point or what? Does that sound legit?"
"Well…" Steve began, smoothing both hands over his midsection. "I have a degree in marketing and…as far as I can tell. Yes, it does sound legit. They'd not want to involve any type of sexual anything, I'd imagine."
He let out a round of that horrendous hacking laughter before erupting in "productive" coughing that ended with him spitting in the trash can on his right. He smacked his hand on his desk then and fished out his zippo in his pocket, not taking his crazy eye off of us. "This here'll have'em hightailing it back to NeYawk city where they come from." He lit his cigar and puffed several times, sucking long, hard, and fast until his head was obscured in smoke.
He suddenly stood up like a skeleton rising from the mist. "You got a catalog son?" He stuck his hand out to Steve and Steve quickly shook it.
"I do. I do have a catalog, yes, I do."
"Good, cause I want to open an entire line of this shit. The more disturbing, the better. Carrie," he turned to his niece. "Call our lawyer and have him get the required paperwork ready." He turned to Steve. "And I want a supply sent here immediately for when I get their inspection next week." He gave a wicked grin. "Gonna set up a 'special room' just for it. Call it… Pierson Funeral Home's Gates of Paradise. He let another one of those laughs rip. "I can't wait to see the looks on their egg suckin' faces!" He made his way around the desk and patted Steve on the shoulder. "I'm awfully glad I didn't have to shoot you." Another round of hacking.
"So am I sir."
We hurried out to the Hummer feeling like we'd just played Bingo and won the blackout jackpot. Steve half ran and threw open the door. "I did it!" he yelled. "I did it! He bought everything!"
Preacher came out of the vehicle and stood, looking at him, then us. "Everything?"
Tara and I nodded. "Everything. He's opening a store for all the products."
Preacher looked right and dug in his ear a bit then looked back at us, perplexed. "You fucking serious?"
I burst out laughing.
Tara stepped forward and punched Preacher in the arm lightly. "Musta been one hell of a prayer, sir."
Preacher suddenly howled, throwing his head back. "Motherfuck!" he gasped, leaning and putting his hands on his knees with Becca closing her eyes and smiling, hands clasped. "I did pray hard, I really did." He stood and wiped his hand over his mouth. "I'm not going to lie, this?" He pointed to the funeral home. "This was David and Goliath. This was…fucking impossible. And I told God, it would have to take a miracle," he couldn't finish for his guffaws of laughter. "You know what He told me?"
We all waited to hear.
"He said, who are you preaching to?" He let out another round of howling laughter until we were all overcome with the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Sheer ridiculousness!
****
Back at the campsite, we all worked to get everything packed up. The air was buzzing with the victory, and Steve broke camp in song after song like a happy young kid.
"Gather around guys," Preacher's thunderous tone got everybody's immediate attention.
I put my arm around Tara, then took it down when I got a whiff of how long it'd been since I'd bathed.
"We have one more discipline before we close this game."
"What? Who?"
"Calm down Bane, it's not you."
"Then who?" Steve asked.
The preacher grinned and spread his arms wide.
"You?" Tara's eyes widened with surprise.
Becca stood next to him with a strong gaze locked on all of us. "He broke a rule and must be punished at the hands of his team."
His team?
Becca went behind him and he raised his arms as she slowly worked his shirt off, folded it carefully and set it exactly on the log next to her. She went into the vehicle and returned with a flogger bearing six foot leather braided strands. She went in front of him and stared into his eyes for several seconds then took his face in her hands and kissed him while raising his arms out at his sides. Then she fucking bowed before him, like her…king.
Tara and I embraced each other as Becca stood the proper distance from him. She cocked back her arm and held it for only a second, and then she began to whip him. With no mercy. No hesitation. No holding back. It had my body locked up and my mind counting. She was at fucking twenty-five when Tara buried her face in my chest.
She finished at fifty. Fucking fifty. Were we supposed to all give him fifty lashes? That was ridiculous. What the fuck could he have done that was so bad? I didn't remember anything he'd ever done warranting a discipline. Had he gone overboard with my discipline maybe? Memories of those wolves nearly eating my ass alive made me shudder.
Steve was first up after and whipped with the strength of a two- year old. Hope we weren't being graded on that. Steve hissed with every strike until finally, Preacher growled, "Stop hitting like a girl, Steve, put some muscle into it."
I watched on, cringing at the whelps covering his back, beginning to bleed. Shit. "I can't do that," Tara whispered. "I can't. Oh God, I'm going to be sick, Lucian."
I thought she'd meant figuratively until she leaned and vomited right next to me. I held her hair back as she retched up her guts.
"Guys, it's a fucking flogging, I've had much worse," the preacher said.
Finally Steve was done. He threw the offending flogger down and wiped his hands on his pants while searching for a place to sit, looking light-headed.
I walked up to preacher and looked at him. "She shouldn't have to do this. Let me take hers?"
Preacher stared at me for many seconds. "Sure man."
I stared at him. "Why are they disciplining you?"
He let out a slow grin. "I wasn't supposed to stick around that night when the wolves almost ate your ass."
Confusion slowly morphed into shock. "Why…then what…" I shook my head.
"I heard the wolves, Bane. I'm not stupid." His breaths were labored from the pain and strain he was under. "And I'm not a fucking sadist. Fuck them. You hear me? Look me in the eyes Bane. I'm not like that. I'm the fucking Top Dom for so much more than that, my brother. And somebody in the grading system knows that." He winked. "Now get your ass back there and give me a hundred."
I was rooted to the spot though, unable to move. Here stood my father with all that military arrogance, and yet…a man that had used that very harshness…for me. "You knew you'd get this?"
"Bane, please. Let's not have a tea party right here about it, my arms are getting a little tired.
But I couldn't. I didn't understand. I had to understand. "So you…disobeyed to protect me? Is… that what you're fucking saying? And you knew you were going to get this?"
He lowered his head and shook it a little. "What do you want from me Bane? A fucking wedding ring?"
I gasped a laugh and lowered my head, trying to get a hold of my emotions. "It's just… I just…" Pain closed my throat, making my breaths come hard and fast. "My old man… you know?" My voice strangled. "He… he never… fuck." I gasped and swallowed down the wall of emotions.
"Bane, look at me,” he firmly mumbled. “You're a good man. God has big plans for you. That much I do know."
I looked at him, fear hitting me at the realizati
on he meant it. He'd said it before when I thought he was nuts. But now… now I knew he wasn't and I was fucking terrified. What the fuck did God want with me?
"Now can you please finish? I'd like to hit the river before we leave for a swim."
The idea of swimming after having his flesh torn from his back was fucking agonizing just to think about. Was he a… masochist? Like me?
Maybe so, after all that failure. That shit didn't just go away. Not for me. And my failures were transferred by another human onto me, so it'd make a lot of sense in his case. But I had to play a fucking sadist? I wasn't a fucking sadist. I went with the flogger and paced behind him then stopped when Becca intercepted me.
"Peace, peace." She grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes and again, emotion overcame me out of the blue. What the fuck was wrong with me? "He does this for the children. We both do. Their need is greater than any pain. True Dominance begins in here," she touched my chest, "not here." She touched my bicep. "This power is a gift. To be used to protect and nurture those you love. And submission is the mate of dominance. The two are destined for marriage."
She finished with a smile and I stood there not much better off than before. She'd just added to my dumbfounded state of mind with all that… truth. I didn't know what else to call it, I just knew it was true. What she said. Though I didn't understand it completely, I felt it was right and my mind had to catch up to that.
She turned me and placed me where I needed to stand.
"Becca, any time this year, baby. My arms are getting pissed."
I took a few breaths and began whipping him, fighting for the strength to do it. Anger, anything. But all I could think about was how he saved my life from the wolves. How he'd disobeyed to get this right here. The only thing that helped me go on was thinking he had to be a masochist. Nobody did that shit without being a fucking masochist. That had to play a part in it. So, in a way, even if it was a sick one, I was helping him if that were true.
Despite that, by the time I was done, I was really done. Undone. On my knees fighting back an avalanche of unexplainable emotion. I felt so… dirty for what I'd just done. It was wrong. Beating an innocent man. Because he'd saved my life. Fuck.
I heard Preacher let out several strained breaths as he headed into the woods with Becca after him. Tara knelt next to me and put her arms around my shoulders. I turned into her, not caring where I was and who saw. I turned into her, putting my face in the safety of her chest, next to her immaculate sweet heart.
"Shhh, you're okay."
Her words finished me off and I broke and wept like a fucking baby.
"I know, I know," she cooed.
I had no words. None. I had nothing but heartache. Bitter, burning, heartache. And I wasn't entirely sure why.
Chapter Sixteen
"We get to spend the last night in a hotel?" Steve stared out the window and watched the extravagant hotel through the window like a child.
"Yep. Luxury on the last night," Preacher said.
"And showers." Becca gave a light moan of joy that snagged the preacher's attention and he leaned in for a kiss.
I knew that need and that sound. Images of me having Tara in the shower, the bed, on the vanity, making her sweet noises, riddled my body. Jesus Christ I couldn't fucking wait.
Preacher stretched a leg out and looked at me. "By the way, I just found out we'll be meeting the final round of contestants tomorrow."
The low rumble in his voice held something I wasn't sure about. Like he had a reason for telling me but I wasn't sure why.
"How many teams are left?" Tara asked.
"Seven." Preacher's voice was grim. "Five go on out of the seven." "Can you believe we made it this far?" Tara said to me.
"You know there can be only one winner, right?" The preacher eyed us with a hint of sympathy.
"Hm, yes," Tara said. "A million dollars is a lot of money, Preacher. I don't mind sharing."
He let out a slow grin followed by a deep rumble of easy laughter. "Well, that's good to hear Miss Tara. But I mind."
She gave a solemn nod. "I can understand."
So could I. In fact, after hearing his story, I felt like we were playing against a village of starving kids. The picture he'd painted had marked my mind, it was like I was standing with him in that little room when he first met them. Did Tara feel the same? The fact she mentioned sharing told me she did and had already planned to share if we won. God, I wanted to fuck her for that. Sweet angel.
We checked into the hotel and all went into our respective rooms, with Steve grinning that wild grin the entire way. The second I shut our room door, I turned to find Tara's nude backside standing at the bathroom door and her looking over her shoulder with an inviting smile.
I ripped my shirt off and stumbled my way to the bathroom after her. Once in the shower, she giggled with both hands up in guard. "Shower first."
I devoured her curves with my gaze and moved her into the stream, kissing her while wetting her hair and blindly reaching for the little shampoo. The sound of needs being barely met filled the shower as I poured the shampoo on her head and began to lather, my mouth not leaving hers.
She finally smiled and pushed me away and I grinned at how she looked. "Let me hurry," she half croaked.
"I'll wash your body." I grabbed the soap bottle.
"Dear God…be nice."
"Oh sweetheart. Fuck no, I'm going to be cruel." I poured a handful of the liquid soap in my hands and lathered up, starting at the very tip of her hard nipples. She answered my cruelty with a gasp while quickly rinsing her hair. I cupped her breasts, groaning at how fucking good they felt in my hands then slid my palms slowly down her sides, then hips, roaming over her ass next, then lower to her thighs. "Way too fucking beautiful. How can you just be standing here so fucking beautiful?" I whispered.
She suddenly clung to my neck, allowing the hungry slide of my hands along every curve of her sweet body. "God, I need you." The throaty moan drove my desire to all mine, right fucking now.
"Fucking rinse before I die." Shit, what was I thinking, I smelled like a caveman. I soaped my own body while she did the rinse dance under the stream and by the time she was done, I switched places with her while Tara returned the torment with her own hands all over me, hungry and demanding at every hardened contour and ridge.
"Did I ever tell you how beautiful your cock is?" She gasped the words while stroking it and looking between us.
I bared my teeth and pumped my hips, the head of my cock hitting her lower tummy.
"I need to suck it, Lucian."
Fuck, so unfair what she did to me. Stole the power from me with her fucking sweet voice that was literally painful to refuse.
"Get on your knees." I used the uncompromising tone I'd chosen for come on command and she whimpered, doing as I said. "You're ready to do as I say, love?"
"Yes." The desperate gasp of consent speared my balls with heat as she stared eagerly at my cock while I rinsed.
Jesus, being in control was so fucking hard when the insane need to ram my cock deep into her soft pussy screamed in my blood and bones with a barbaric fervor. I placed one foot on the side of the tub. "Cup my balls with your right hand."
She did as I said, her fingers delicately feeling while cupping at the same time. I stroked the hair along her face, watching, fighting to think. "Wet the tip of your finger on my cock."
She bit her lip and swirled her finger slowly over the slit, making me gasp from the fire it produced. "Feels good?"
"No talking," I barely managed. "I want you to stroke my ass with that finger now." It was her turn to moan as she complied, sliding her wet finger over my ass, making the muscle contract. I held the base of my cock. 'Close your mouth. I want to kiss your lips with my dick."
She continued to rub her finger slowly on my ass, barely pushing on the opening for the perfect torment while I stroked the head of my cock along her lips, so fucking supple in surrender. Fire rippled in my groin now.
>
"Lick the slit, baby. Use the tip of your tongue and make me fucking out of my mind hot." She moaned as she obeyed, her torment getting more eager on my ass, her fingers on my balls moving in a milking motion. "Do it," I growled. "Fuck my ass now. Slowly." I held on to her head with my free hand. "Open your mouth now, I'm ready to have you suck the fuck out of me, are you ready for that? To have your pretty mouth fucked with my cock?" She opened wide and took me in. "You want the head of my dick here?" I pushed to the back of her throat and she gave a high pitched moan, moving her finger deep into my ass, stroking that spot behind my balls with her other hand.
My choked roar erupted followed by a long hiss. I pumped my cock in and out with long strokes. Desire reached that insane level, the one that stole my ability to focus and play little games with her. "I know your clit is so fucking hard right now, isn't it?"
She managed to give a frantic nod, her moans constant as I picked up speed. "Suck me good, and don't stop fucking my ass, just like that, nice and deep, ffffffuck yes." I pulled her hair now with my hand, making her suck the head of my cock rapidly before sliding in deep and hitting her throat. "You're so fucking bad, love, do you know that? Do you know it's fucking impossible to play with you? Fuck my ass faster, Tara, I'm going to fucking come in your mouth." The words were a strangled growl as I pumped my hips, making her teeth scrape along my cock. I bared my teeth, watching her lips encase my cock, the furrow in her brows telling the demand I was putting on her and yet knowing how much she fucking loved it. "God, Tara!" I barked the final words and threw back my head, letting the orgasm rock me, letting her do whatever the fuck she wanted because I no longer cared, just so I came all over, all over her.
I ended with my back against the shower and her kissing her way up my body while I fought to regain consciousness from the mind altering orgasm. Her hot mouth was finally on mine, eating up my gasps with a desperate hunger.
I grabbed a handful of her hair. "You need to be fucked so bad, don't you."